Blackout: A Romance Anthology

by Stephanie St. Klaire

  I wasn’t going to let him distract from the bigger issue at hand. Reeling in my anger, I stubbed out my cigarette and lit another, taking my seat on the couch once again. “Underground fighting? Are you fucking kidding me, Sawyer? You tried to fix an illegal fight and lost your ass and now what, you owe some bookie fifty grand?”

  “Yeah, but it’s all good. I’ve got a plan,” he said.

  Waving my hand, I gestured for him to continue. I didn’t have the mental fortitude in the moment to string together the right words to express how fucked the whole situation was.

  “I know a dealer in Boulder City, his security is shit. I’ve already got a buyer, that’s what I was doing tonight.”

  I just stared at him, unable to believe the shit that was coming out of his mouth. If there was an award for stupidest fucking idea it would go to my idiot little brother. “So your big plan to pay back your bookie is to rob a drug dealer? How the fuck does that make any sense?”

  “What else are we going to do, rob a bank? We’ve got limited options and even less time.”

  “We? This doesn’t have anything to do with Ellis, does it? You just used her to get my ass here so I could clean up your fucking mess, didn’t you?” I growled, anger creeping up my spine.

  Sawyer had done some shady shit in the past, but using Ellis to manipulate me was a new low.

  His jaw ticked in frustration and he sent an aggravated glare my way. “Give me some credit, Nix. I wouldn’t do that. Besides, I already told you I’ve got a plan to pay my debt.”

  “Right, the whole robbing the drug dealer thing. We’re gonna circle back to that, but I want to know how you got Ellis mixed up in this shit.”

  “I didn’t get her mixed up in anything,” Sawyer shot back, rubbing his palms on his jean covered thighs.

  “So she’s got nothing to do with this whole bookie business?”

  “Not exactly…” he said, trailing off. His voice losing the conviction it had before.

  My fingers curled into a fist and I suddenly wanted to add to the pattern of holes decorating the walls of the shitty rental. “You’ve got five seconds to start making sense.”

  “Okay, just chill. I’ll tell you everything. So, the guy that runs the underground, Tony, he’s a bad fuckin’ dude, man. He’s got his hands in shit all over the damn city and he’s got the money and the muscle to back it up. Anyway, word on the street was that he had a new girl, I didn’t think anything of it until last night. I didn’t even consider…”

  That knot that had been twisting in my gut tightened and I could see where Sawyer’s story was going before he even finished.

  “I was at the club last night, working out a deal with a friend and Tony showed up, but he wasn’t alone,” Sawyer said, his voice suddenly somber. For the first time since he’d shown up, he looked me dead in the eye. He didn’t need to elaborate, his expression said it all.

  “He was with Ellis,” I finished.

  Sawyer nodded, lighting a cigarette of his own. “Was wondering why I hadn’t heard from her in a few months.”

  “How’d she look?” I asked, trying to age her up in my head. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since I had her removed from my visitor list after my first year in prison. It was too hard to see the pain in her face, to know she was putting her entire life on hold while I was stuck in a six by eight cell for the foreseeable future. We were just kids, too young for her to hit pause in order to wait for my derelict ass. I let her go, but I never stopped caring.

  “Scared,” Sawyer said, his voice flat.

  Every cell in my body stood at attention at his admission. Ellis wasn’t some damsel in distress type, she could be just as hard and vicious as any man I’d ever met. She might not be able to physically take down a man twice her size, but she was clever, she always had a plan. If she looked scared, shit was serious. “Explain,” I barked out.

  “You know Ellis, she’s a beast. I mean, I was surprised to see her there, but she walked in like she fucking owned the place. When she saw me though, that’s when I got worried. The way she looked at me, I could practically feel her fear, man.”

  “Did you talk to her?”

  Sawyer shook his head sharply. “Nah, couldn’t get close enough. But you remember Callie?”

  I groaned, letting my head fall into my hands. Callie Miller was Ellis’s trainwreck of a best friend. Where Ellis was street smart and savvy, Callie was the exact opposite. The girl could find trouble at church camp given the opportunity. “The fuck does Callie have to do with this?”

  “She was there. We didn’t talk, but she slipped me a note as I was leaving.”

  “And? What did it say?”

  He pulled out his wallet, retrieving a folded piece of paper and handed it over.

  Find Nix. Ellis needs him.

  The ink was a bit smeared, but the hastily scrawled message was clear. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage to get Ellis clear of whatever she was caught up in, but I needed to see her for myself.

  “When’s the next fight?” I asked, the beginnings of a plan starting to form.

  Sawyer eyed me carefully before he spoke. “Tomorrow, but—”

  “Can you get me in?” I asked, cutting him off.

  He was shaking his head before I’d even finished my question. “No way, man. Not a good idea.”

  His protests weren’t going to stop me. The anticipation of a fight was already spreading through my veins. It’d been a while, but the muscle memory was there. “Didn’t ask if you thought it was a good idea, I asked if you could do it.”

  “There’s no guarantee she’ll be there, and this isn’t some boxing match, there’s no ref, no fucking rules. Just two dudes thrown into a cage to battle it out until someone doesn’t get back up. It’s legit bare knuckle brawl—people fucking die in the pit.”

  It was my turn to shake my head. “I’m not worried about that. I can hold my own. Can you get me in or not?”

  Sawyer cursed under his breath and stood. “I don’t know, probably.”

  “Good,” I said, settling back into the couch. “I’ve got some cash. We’ll get the money you owe without buying another fuckin’ problem with some dealer from Boulder City.”

  Admittedly, I wasn’t exactly in ideal fighting form, but if I was certain about one thing, it was my ability to inflict pain.

  CHAPTER 2

  Ellis

  I studied my reflection in the gilded floor length mirror as I secured the back of my earring in place. The massive diamond studs that had been a two-month anniversary gift from Tony weighed uncomfortably heavy on my ears. When I’d first unwrapped them, I was floored by his generosity, but as time went on, it became apparent the clothes and jewelry he constantly showered me with were just shackles. I was a prisoner painted in gold leaf and dotted with diamonds.

  The woman in the reflection wasn’t me, she was a pawn, a plaything for a monster. In all my life, I never thought I’d long for the days of wearing second hand clothes and running scams to afford dinner. It wasn’t always bad, he was charming and sweet, and he offered me a life of ease and luxury I never imagined I would get to experience—I should’ve know it would come at a cost.

  Our whirlwind romance devolved into a hurricane of terror almost as quickly as it started. Within three months of meeting, Tony had moved me into his penthouse overlooking the strip. It didn’t take much to convince me to give up my shitty apartment in Savannah Heights, but I regretted the decision almost instantly. What I’d considered attentive and dotting behavior turned into obsession and control overnight. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late.

  Even when he wasn’t around, his guards tracked my every move making it impossible to escape. The only place I had any privacy was the bathroom, and even then, someone was usually waiting outside the door. Tony claimed it was for my protection, but I knew the truth—I was trapped in a cage of luxury and excess with a madman. I had to break free before I ended up dead.

  Callie, my
best friend, was the only one who had any idea how bad things had gotten. I hadn’t told her in so many words, but she wasn’t stupid and after last night, I doubted she’d be sitting on the sidelines waiting for what happened next. If looks could kill, Tony would’ve been dead after the glare Callie had shot his way when he manhandled me at the club. Tony was smart, he isolated me, cut me off from everyone until he was all that was left, but he hadn’t taken into account Callie’s ability to sweet talk her way into just about anything.

  Tony took my phone away when I first moved in, feeding me a line of bullshit about security. He promised to replace it, but never did, and he made sure I remembered not to ask about it again.

  Reaching up, I let my fingertips slide over the concealed bruise on my cheek, wincing slightly at the tenderness. I wasn’t going to be one of those women that sat back and took it. I wasn’t under any delusions that Tony was a good guy—no, he’d shown his true colors and I knew enough not to trust his apologies.

  I had a good poker face, but even I couldn’t feign interest when he climbed into bed at dawn smelling like scotch and cigars. I wanted out, but Tony made it clear he had no intentions of letting me go.

  I fell for his charm, missed every red flag, and put myself in a situation I always promised I’d never be in. I’d watched the revolving door of boyfriends my mother had when I was growing up. The users and abusers that she so openly welcomed into our lives, blinded by the promise of love.

  It was bullshit. Love was bullshit. Love didn’t last, it just opened you up for heartbreak.

  “Elle, let’s go!” Tony’s booming voice called from the bedroom.

  I hated the way I flinched, the flash of fear that swelled in my eyes as I stared at myself in the mirror. I was better, stronger. I’d find a way out, I had to.

  Smoothing down the skirt of my black body-con dress, I put on my game face, and checked my reflection one last time. I wanted to smash my fist into the glass, shattering the image of the woman staring back at me. Everything about her sends a curl of rage up my spine. She’s weak, complacent, a painted doll. I am none of those things, I am not her, and I’ll teach Tony that lesson if it’s the last thing I do.

  Letting the resolve settle deep within me, I open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom before he feels the need to come look for me. Tony showed his cards, laid it all out on the table, but he made one crucial error. He’d underestimated his target.

  “Ah, there she is,” Tony said with a smile, holding out his arm.

  My skin crawled at the thought of touching him, but I smiled sweetly anyway and slipped my arm through his. “Sorry, I was just fixing my hair,” I said, cuddling close to his side. The cloying scent of his cologne made me want to gag, but I stifled the urge.

  Tony’s palm trailed over my shoulder, his fingers reaching out to wrap around the back of my neck as his thumb grazed my jaw tenderly. “You’re my Queen. You’re always beautiful,” he whispered, tilting his forehead to meet mine.

  I played along, leaning in, letting my eyes flutter open, and staring up into the flat pools of evil where his pupils should be. Love was the last thing in my mind, but still I forced myself to exude adoration, even worship, anything to appease him.

  “I love that you want to look good for me,” he breathed, thumb slipping under my chin to glide down my throat. Before my brain registered what was happening, his grip tightened and his free hand tangled painfully in my hair as he hauled me roughly against his chest. “But make me wait again, and I’ll teach you a lesson that will take more than makeup to conceal,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

  The sound of my heartbeat thundered in my ears, panic seized my lungs and I fought to stay calm as his grip began to cut off my airflow. If I fought him, gave him any reason to think I wasn’t one hundred percent compliant, he’d lock me up until he broke me. “You know how much I hate waiting, Elle?”

  I nodded, my hand flying to his wrist, my brain no longer able to keep the instinct to survive at bay. His hold tightened even more and I struggled not to panic as my airway constricted even further.

  Using his grip as leverage, he lifted me until my toes barely touched the ground, his scarred cheek coming to rest against my bruised one. I used to think it made him look kind of dangerous, now I knew how much truth that held. “Do you, though? Because if you know how much I hate it, then why are you still doing it?” he growled into my ear, his anger sending chills across my skin.

  Do something, he’s going to kill you!

  A darkness started creeping into the edges of my vision and I knew I only had seconds to stop him before I passed out. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to focus through the chaos. We were in the middle of the room, so there was nothing to grab onto, nothing within reach to use as a weapon. Tony shook me and I peeled open my eyes, his mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the ringing in my ears. He shook me again and my foot slipped, but his grip held firm keeping me suspended. I scrambled to find my footing, my heel catching on the rug as I struggled.

  My heel.

  With enough force, my stilettos could cause some damage, or at least get him to let go. What happened after was a problem for later. I was tired and weak, the few small gulps of air I got when Tony adjusted his grip didn’t bring nearly enough relief. Pushing through the fatigue, I tried to balance my weight on one foot while I lifted the other, stretching to reach my only hope. I’d just wrapped my fingers around the heel when the bedroom door swung open.

  Tony released me so suddenly, I collapsed to the floor, struggling to draw in air. Tears poured from my eyes as I coughed and choked. The ringing in my ears started to subside and the world that had faded away began to seep back in.

  “Car’s waiting downstairs.”

  “It’ll wait as long as I tell it to wait,” Tony growled.

  Looking up, I see Marco standing in the doorway, his suit just as expensive and crisp as Tony’s. No matter how much time passed, it was still jarring to see Marco in anything but jeans. He’d done well for himself, moving from low level street supplier to the inner circle of a wide spanning criminal underground in less than a decade.

  Marco’s gaze didn’t stray from Tony, and he acted like the two men were alone in the room, but the tick in his jaw and the way his fists were clenched at his sides gave away his disapproval. Despite the fact that I’d known Marco for years and he was the one who introduced me to Tony in the first place, he wouldn’t stand up for me, I could see that now. I hadn’t totally understood Marco’s relationship with Tony until that moment. They acted like partners most of the time, but if the stare down I’d witnessed was any indication, Tony maintained the control in the relationship.

  Tony broke the tension, waving a hand in my direction. “You’ve got five minutes to clean up and make yourself presentable, don’t make me wait again.”

  I was sure he’d said it more for Marco than anything, a subtle reminder that I’d brought the attack upon myself, that I was his and there was nothing my old friend could do about it.

  Not trusting my voice, I just nodded and hurried into the bathroom. Another wave of tears breached, running down my cheeks in wide rivers as I closed the heavy door behind me and flipped the lock. He could easily get through the door if he wanted, but I relished in the small victory of putting some sort of barrier between us. Shoulders shaking with silent sobs, I slumped to the cool marble floor.

  How did I get here?

  I’d asked myself the question a thousand times in the past few weeks. The answer was simple, I’d gotten cocky. Tony was never some great love of mine. No, I had one of those, and he certainly didn’t wear Armani. Tony was just a decent lay that turned into an opportunity. I thought I was going to move in, live a few months’ rent free in the penthouse and when the relationship fizzled out—like they always did—I’d split with some pretty sweet consolation prizes. The joke was on me though, because while I was enjoying the good life he was laying the groundwork for a con of his ow
n, one that might end with me dead.

  Realizing I’d probably squandered most of my five-minute bathroom allotment on my pity party, I took a deep breath and stood up to inspect the damage. Eyeliner and mascara were messily smeared around my eyes and cheeks, my skin red and splotchy, but otherwise unmarked. Snatching up a few tissues, I gently cleaned up the mess as best I could. I managed to get the raccoon look tamed into a halfway decent smoky eye and brush through my tangled waves, but there was no time to cover up the red welts forming around my neck.

  I figured my time was almost up and since I didn’t want a repeat of what had just gone down, I grabbed my clutch and headed back into the bedroom. Marco was gone, but Tony still stood in the middle of the room, suit perfectly smooth, not the slightest wrinkle from our previous altercation.

  “Look at that, twelve seconds to spare, even. So, you can learn to listen,” Tony smirked, looking up from his watch. It was almost as if he wanted me to fail his twisted test just so he’d have an excuse to punish me. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late,” he said, offering me the same arm as before.

  I smiled through the fear once again and let him lead me out into the foyer where we joined Marco and several bodyguards. I kept my head high, refusing to cower under the weight of Tony’s disapproving glare. Marco caught my eye as we moved into the elevator, there was concern there and I wondered if it went deep enough for him to help me when the time came. He wouldn’t speak up for me when I had no voice, but would he go as far as to stand in my way if I tried to run?

  The four guards from the penthouse, all armed beneath their suit jackets, guided us to the basement parking lot where we were ushered into two idling black SUVs without a word. The drive to the underground was quieter than it was the day before. Marco was leading the convoy in the front SUV while Tony and I followed in the second vehicle, further limiting my options for distraction. I didn’t think I was capable of conjuring up any conversation, no matter how trivial, with the man who’d nearly killed me. Tony didn’t seem entirely unaffected by what had happened either. Frustration rolled off him like smoke and he spent the ride silently staring out the window as the city passed by.