Blaze (Deceit and Desire Book 6)

by Cassie Wild

  He leaned forward, bracing an elbow on the table. “You remember that sweet piece of ass you brought in here a few weeks back? What was her name?”

  “I’ve been in here with a lot of women, TU. You think I can remember all of them?” I gave him a bored look.

  “Oh, you’d remember this one. She wasn’t one of the bar bunnies who hang around. You brought her in. Took her to the back room…remember her now?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “Turns out Croft ran into her earlier. He might have a chance to find out just how sweet that ass of hers is.”

  I almost came out of the chair and went after him.

  Zeb’s hand on my shoulder stopped me.

  Shrugging it off, I rose and bent over the table, shoving my face into TU’s. He looked…surprised. “Where is she?”

  Eyes still wary, the bastard’s mouth turned up into a small grin that pissed me off further. “Beats the hell out of me.”

  It was an enticing offer, but I didn’t have time for it.

  If I wasted time on him, that was time I couldn’t spend looking for Trice.

  And she was what mattered now. I straightened, pulling away from TU. As I did so, I gave him a long, steady look.

  “You and me, we’re about ready to settle things once and for all,” I told him. “You better be ready because you won’t like how things end. And if he hurts her? There won’t be a hole deep enough where either one of you can hide from me.”

  Something that might have been wariness flickered in TU’s eyes.

  But he just laughed.

  I turned my back on him. Zeb and Sully were right at my heels.

  “You’re wasting your time, Lane!” TU shouted at my back. “That hot little piece already belongs to somebody.”

  Fury lit inside me at those words.

  But at the same time…hope.

  Because he’d just given me some idea where Croft might have taken Trice.

  Eight

  Trice

  I was a fool.

  I’d been so close…so close to getting away and being done with this life, and what had I done? I’d let stupid, childish dreams of having a mother who cared for me blind me.

  That was all this was.

  Sitting on the luxurious leather couch in Ephraim Farrar’s living room, I sat in silence as they all talked over my head.

  Croft, it seemed, knew Farrar and the clan leaders quite well.

  Apparently, they worked together transporting drugs and alcohol. Right now, they were promising Croft a bonus from the next shipment since he’d helped bring back Ephraim’s wayward fiancée.

  I wanted to puke.

  Everything I’d done, and where was I?

  Right back here.

  I had no idea how I’d get away this time, but I’d do it somehow. It would take a lot more work, and probably a lot more time–

  “…the wedding?”

  That jerked me to attention, and I looked up, my gaze moving from Ephraim to Croft.

  Ephraim caught sight of the look on my face, and he chuckled. “My bride is speechless.”

  “I’m not marrying you,” I said, my voice shaking.

  “You will,” he said simply.

  “No. I won’t,” I told him, resisting the urge to cower back into the leather seat cushions.

  “Give me five minutes alone with her,” Croft said. “She’ll change her tune.”

  Ephraim’s eyes gleamed. “Don’t leave any marks, Croft. I want that beautiful face untouched for my wedding night.”

  A brutal hand closed around my wrist. I fought back, but he was so much stronger, and he ended up half dragging me across the living room and down the hall. On my way out of the room, I caught sight of my mother, who was sitting in a chair and sipping from a glass of wine.

  She looked completely unaffected. It was like this…whatever it was didn’t matter.

  Like I didn’t matter.

  And I was in this mess because I’d cared about what might happen to her.

  I wanted to scream, kick, hit something. As Croft flung me into a room, I decided that was exactly what I’d do, and I flung myself at him, kicking and smacking at him.

  He laughed and shoved a hand into my hair, pulling so tight, my scalp felt like it was on fire. “You want to get a little rough, Trice? We can do that.”

  He grabbed my right breast, found the nipple and twisted painfully. “How’s that, sweet thing? You like that?”

  Tears filled my eyes. I tried not to let them fall, but even as I shuddered and fought them back, he squeezed harder, tighter, like he wanted to separate flesh from flesh.

  Abruptly, he let go.

  I sagged against the door, my disheveled ponytail half-askew and hanging in my face.

  “You ready to go out there and tell Ephraim you’re ready to be a good little bride?”

  “I’m not marrying him,” I said, my voice rasping out of my throat.

  “Wrong answer.” He hauled me away from the door and threw me down on the bed, using his knees to pin me down.

  I sucked in a breath just as he brought the pillow down on my face.

  My lungs screamed for air.

  I wasted precious bits of it as I fought against him, the oxygen in my lungs dwindling down to nothing.

  The pillow was pulled away, and Croft leered down at me. “I can do this all day, baby,” he said.

  I sucked in another breath. He clamped his hand over my mouth and squeezed my nose, cutting off my oxygen manually instead of using the pillow. He kept holding, holding, holding…

  Abruptly, he let go, and I gasped.

  The pillow returned.

  I was only vaguely aware of the buzzing on my chest. It was the lack of air. It had to be.

  But Croft pulled the pillow away, and I breathed in, and the buzzing continued.

  “Well, well, well. I didn’t think to check you for a phone…” He went still as he pulled the phone wallet from inside my bra, then flipped it open. I knew he realized right away it wasn’t mine.

  As it rang again, he answered it.

  Please don’t be Lane, I thought pathetically.

  “Lane, boy…is that you calling…” He frowned, and his voice changed. “No, lady, she’s not…who is this?”

  A queer look settled over Croft’s features, and he said, “You just hold on one second. She’s right here as a matter of fact.”

  I flinched as Croft lowered the phone. “It’s a clinic,” he said calmly, showing me the screen. It didn’t tell me much, just revealed a number that I didn’t know.

  He hit the speaker button and mouthed at me. Answer them.

  “l…hello?” I said, my voice shaking.

  “Ms. Dollard?” a woman asked.

  “Yes, this is she.”

  “Can you confirm your birthdate for me?” she said, her tone distant, cool. Polite.

  I said nothing and watched Croft click the mute button before yanking my head back by my hair. “You better answer, and don’t try anything cute.”

  “Hello…” the voice came from the speaker. “Hello, Ms. Dollard?”

  “Do it,” he growled and clicked the mute button again.

  “I’m here,” I said, my voice shaky as I rattled off my birthdate, staring up at Croft with terrified eyes.

  Why had they called now?

  Why hadn’t I just turned the phone off?

  “Very good, thank you. We have the results of your pregnancy test in. It’s positive. You’re pregnant.”

  Before I could say another word, Croft disconnected the call and bent down over me, his face only an inch from mine. “Well, well, well…” he mused, pressing his nose to my cheek. “How about that?”

  Shaking, feeling sick inside, I averted my face.

  It did no good. He surrounded me, stinking of stale beer and cruelty.

  “You know what’s going to happen now, Trice?” Croft asked, pulling away from me.

  He even offered a hand and helped me sit up. I didn’t want to accept, but I didn�
��t trust the look on his face so I decided not to piss him off.

  “What’s going to happen now?” I asked woodenly.

  “You’re going to go out there and tell Ephraim you’re ready to get married,” he said in a genial tone. “Because if you don’t…” he reached out and gently, almost tenderly cupped my belly.

  Nine

  Lane

  I avoided cops whenever possible.

  But today wasn’t a day when it was possible.

  The cop I was looking for wasn’t on duty, but that didn’t matter. I knew where to find him.

  The shooting range was farther away than I liked, and it took more time getting there than I wanted to waste, but he wouldn’t talk to me on the phone.

  Detective Larry Weiss was slowly working his way up the food chain in the LAPD, specializing in gang crimes.

  When he saw me, he scowled, then removed the protective headgear and came out from the secure area where he’d been practicing with a couple of handguns.

  “Nice aim,” I told him.

  “Yeah, I’ve been told,” Weiss said. He looked me up and down before shaking his head. “You look like you’ve been sleeping in your clothes a week straight.”

  He wasn’t too far off. “Can we talk?” I glanced around the crowded area and added, “Privately.”

  We ended up out by his car, and he put several cases in the trunk before turning to look at me. “You think any more on the offer I made you?”

  That was why I was here.

  “I’m ready to take you up on it, but I need a favor in return,” I said.

  Weiss scowled. “I’m giving you a favor. I told you that you and those who testify with you will get immunity. The DA’s already promised that. He wants those helping run drugs off the street and doesn’t give a shit about the rest of your boy’s biker gang.”

  Giving him a withering stare, I held my peace. Weiss had approached me several months back about this offer, but I hadn’t taken him up on it. Some misguided sense of loyalty, maybe. I didn’t know. But now he was my best chance of protecting those who mattered – he had to have a way of getting me the information I needed about Trice.

  Our stare down continued. After almost thirty seconds, he held up his hands. “Okay, okay…what’s this favor?”

  “I need to know whatever you can tell me about Gabriel Marks.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Gabriel Marks. He’s a local con artist, going to trial soon–”

  “Yeah, yeah. I know who he is. He’s been on our radar for a while,” Weiss said, shaking his head. “Why do you need info on him?”

  “I just do.” I wasn’t about to tell him that I was grabbing at straws, that I thought maybe somebody Gabriel knew was holding Trice hostage and would force her into marriage. It sounded crazy even to my ears.

  For a long moment, Weiss just studied me, then he grunted and reached into a leather bag, pulling out a folder. “I’ve been following the Marks case. He’s Roma…I guess you know that?”

  I frowned at him.

  He rolled his eyes. “Gypsy clan. You know anything about some of them working with TU and a few others out of your gang?”

  I set my jaw, disgusted to think that somebody who could force a girl into marriage was the kind of people that TU kept company with. But then again, he didn’t have any problem running drugs or telling Croft to ‘take care of’ innocent women over suspicions either.

  “Things weren’t like this before my dad went to prison,” I said, shame tightening my throat.

  “Well, things are like that now.” He turned the folder over to me. “I’ve been making copies where I can. The number for the cop assigned to it here in LA is in there. Don’t know if he’ll talk to you. There’s another cop out of Monterey who helped bring him down in the first place…she’s hooked up with one of Marks’ kids, I think. Don’t know what you’re looking for on him but maybe one of those two cops or the connection to the kids can help.”

  The kids.

  Those would be Trice’s cousins.

  I tightened my hand on the folder and wondered why in the hell I hadn’t already thought of that.

  And I had Trice’s phone – the phone numbers for those cousins might already be at my fingertips.

  Ten

  Trice

  The look on Croft’s face was absolutely terrifying, an expression that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.

  The unholy glee that lit his eyes was indescribable, and the way his hand felt on my belly was so unbelievably wrong.

  I just wanted to get him away from me, but at the same time, I was afraid to move.

  Afraid to react.

  “A bun in the oven, huh, Trice? And you just found out.” He winked at me. “You know what I think?”

  Mutely, I shook my head.

  “I think you’re going to go right out there and tell Ephraim that you can’t wait to marry him.” He rubbed a slow circle around my belly. “Want to know why?”

  Swallowing back the bile rising up in my throat, I asked softly, “Why?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to beat this baby right out of you.”

  He patted my belly then and pulled back, smiled down at me as if he’d just told me we were going to have tea and cookies.

  My stomach heaved, and a cold line of sweat broke out upon my brow and at the base of my neck. I could tell by looking at him that he was deadly serious.

  I gave him a small nod.

  I still didn’t know how I felt about being pregnant, but I knew how I felt about what he’d just said – completely sick.

  Protectively, I covered my belly – and the baby. Lane’s baby.

  Why hadn’t I listened to him?

  “I’ll do it,” I said woodenly.

  “Good girl.” He chucked me on the chin like I was still some school kid and I’d just gotten a good grade on my spelling test. I wanted to bite him. Kick him.

  But the violence in Croft was easy to read, and I didn’t dare push him.

  “You wait right here,” he said, pointing at me.

  Despondently, I looked around. It wasn’t like I had any place I could go, now did I?

  A few minutes after he left, Croft returned.

  He carried a dress with him.

  The sight of it only added to the nausea I was dealing with, and as he thrust it into my arms, I looked around. “Is there a bathroom?”

  “You need to get ready for the wedding, sweetheart,” he told me sardonically.

  “I feel like I’m going to get sick,” I said in a monotone. “Do you think it’ll look good if I walk out of here with puke all over me?”

  His eyes narrowed. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t do that.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I fired back at him. “It’s kind of hard to control. I also need to pee. Am I supposed to control that bodily function too?”

  His eyes thinned until they were mere slits in his face, but after a few seconds, he moved over to a door and jerked it open. He ducked his head inside then looked back at me. “Don’t even think of trying for that window. I’ll kill your mama, then come after you,” he warned me.

  Something told me he wasn’t bluffing.

  But I was done trying to fight this.

  I tried.

  I’d even succeeded.

  Then my own good intentions tripped me up.

  It was over.

  “I won’t run,” I told him, ducking into the bathroom. Bile burned higher and higher up my throat, and I dropped the dress carelessly on the floor as I rushed to the toilet. Bending over, I gasped and stopped trying to fight it. It seemed like a lifetime passed before a thin stream finally emitted from my throat. It didn’t help the burning in my gut one bit.

  I rinsed my mouth out and put some toothpaste on my finger, hoping to wash away the nasty, acidic taste in my mouth.

  Nausea still churned.

  It was fear as much as anything else.

  Slowly, I starte
d to disrobe. I used the toilet, then unable to put it off any longer, I picked up the dress.

  The pale blue bra I wore was going to show.

  I needed some sort of support garment on under this, but I didn’t care.

  I pulled it on and stared at my reflection.

  My ponytail was a mess, and I almost left it as it was but decided not to provoke either Croft or Ephraim any further, so I pulled the band from my hair and finger-combed the long strands until it was smooth.

  There was makeup on the counter, but I ignored it.

  If they wanted me to go that far, they were out of their minds.

  Opening the door, I stepped out. Croft was standing by the bed, and he frowned at the sight of me.

  “You look like shit.”

  “I feel even worse.”

  Scowling, he waved a hand at his face. “Do something about your face,” he snapped.

  “I just puked. I’m pregnant. I’m scared. I can’t do anything about my face,” I said, lying through my teeth.

  His scowl only deepened, but apparently, he was done trying to convince me. “Fine. Let’s go meet the proud fiancé.”

  Ephraim and my mother stood in the living room where we’d left them. Several other clan leaders were there as well.

  As gazes shifted my way, I focused only on my mother.

  She wouldn’t so much as look at me.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  My skin felt too hot, but at the same time, I was chilled. Chilled to the very bone.

  Ephraim came toward me. I tensed, every instinct I had telling me to get away from him, very far away.

  Croft stood just off to my other side, and I knew if I so much as moved an inch, he’d be there. My breast still ached from the abuse he’d heaped on it, and his words echoed in my head.

  “My dear,” Ephraim said. “You look…” His eyes lifted from my chest to my face and he paused, frowning.

  I swallowed and looked away.

  “There’s makeup,” he said. “Didn’t you see it?”

  “I’m allergic,” I lied.