The Bad Ass Brigade: Bad Guys Beware. The Good Guys Are on the Prowl (A Taylor Lee Sizzling Romantic Suspense Collection)

by Taylor Lee

  He glanced over at Dominic and nodded up at the stage. “Who’s she, Dominic?”

  Red jumped in as Gabe knew he would. “Why, Mr. McKenna, I thought you knew. We’re havin’ ourselves a little celebration. Sort of an auction. It’s what we call in my gang ‘Virgin Night.’”

  Ana’s gasp was audible across the room.

  Gabe covered for her, wanting to give her a chance to recover. “Hell, Red, I don’t know how to tell you this, but it’s been a long time since you were a virgin.”

  A roar of laughter filled the room. Even Red chuckled a little.

  “C’mon, Gabriel, you gotta remember way back, how much fun it was to break through those tight little gals.”

  “Red, really. You know where I grew up. I don’t think there was a virgin among those little Irish lasses over the age of twelve. Including your daughters, if I remember right.”

  Red rose up, his face verging on purple. “You fucking son of a bitch. I’m gonna kill you for that, McKenna.”

  Gabe took a drag off his cigarette. “Why don’t you see if you can beat me at poker first, Red. Which bring me back to my question. What’s she doing up there?”

  Mike broke in, “Let me fill the little fucker in, Red. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just tryin’ to rile you. Throw you off your game. In case you don’t know, McKenna, we’re playin’ for that little gal up there. But the guy who set it up made it a little more interesting. There ain’t gonna be no losers. Excepting maybe her.” A hearty round of guffaws greeted that remark.

  Pat jumped in. “Here’s the deal, Gabriel. Every man who wants a piece of her puts twenty-five thousand dollars in the ante pot. For that small piece of change he gets a number. That number is the order we fuck her in.”

  Gabe stared at him and took another drag off his cigarette. He didn’t look at Ana. He knew if he did he would be at her side in a moment and probably get them both killed.

  Pat continued to drone on as if he was organizing a lottery at a church social. “So you got, that, Gabriel, the person with the highest card gets her second and so on down.”

  Gabe flicked the ash off his cigarette. “Who gets her first?”

  Mike said with a grin, “The guy who is the big winner tonight.”

  There was a growl from across the table. “In case you don’t understand, asshole. That would be me.”

  Gabe grinned. “Who’s the cocky son of a bitch now, Red?”

  Red eyed him. “Just so you know, kid. In twenty years of playin’ poker with my gang, I ain’t lost yet.”

  Gabe chuckled. “Did you ever think, Red, it’s not that you’re a good poker player but that the rest of them are horseshit.”

  A loud rumble of angry retorts greeted that remark.

  Gabe decided it was time to push the point. It was important that he get them all to commit or get the hell out. He needed to hear from every man at the table that they planned to gang rape Ana.

  “One more question, fellows. Who gets the pot of money in the middle?”

  Red’s voice was smooth. The ignorant immigrant Irish was gone. In its place was the man who was the scourge of the east coast gangs. “Why, Gabriel, you really are a neophyte. As in any poker game, the man who ends up with the most chips wins. In this case, the chips, the pot, the bitch and the bragging rights, Angel.” His emphasis on the last word was a clear signal. Red knew exactly who he was and had come to take him down.

  Mike reached in his jacket pocket and tossed a pouch on the table. “I’m in.” Nodding to the dealer, he added, “Give me a card.” The frown that crossed his face said it all. “I don’t care. I just don’t wanna come after Erick. By the time he finishes they’re bleedin’ out of every hole so bad, it ain’t sanitary.”

  Gabe refused to look at Ana. He couldn’t bear to see the pain on her face. He took his time lighting a cigar and filling his glass. He watched through narrowed eyes as one by one the men around the table threw in their money and took a card. And, not incidentally, dug their grave.

  When it came round to Gabe, he shook his head and smiled at the dealer. “Good evening, Charlie. Good to know we have an honest dealer tonight. And no, Charlie, I won’t need a card.”

  Mike frowned. “You don’t want a piece of that ass up there, Angel?”

  The fact that they were all using his moniker underscored that this was as big a set up on their end as it was on his.

  “It’s not that, Mike. It’s just that I plan on winning that pot. No need to put in money when I’m just going to be taking it out again.”

  All the men at the table looked to Red to see how he was taking the insult. To Gabe’s surprise, Red just nodded at Charlie and said, “Let the little fucker strut around, fellows. We’ll see who’s the big man at the end.”

  The game took its usual route. By the end of the first round, Gabe knew every player’s tells. It wasn’t that these men were bad poker players, it was that Gabe was that good. Three times in a row, he bluffed and took a huge pot, blowing out hands he knew were much better than his. He watched Red and knew he was getting to him. When Gabe took that third hand on a bluff he saw the big man signal Pat. Gabe understood that Pat was to be a fall guy on the next hand if Red didn’t get cards. But Red did. Unfortunately for Red, so did Gabe.

  When Red reached for the pot without showing his hand and before Gabe showed his hand, Gabe said, pleasantly, “Sorry, Red, Where I come from, my three kings will always take those three ladies of yours.” Red pulled back his hand and stared in disbelief at Gabe’s three kings.

  And then the verbal attack that Gabe had been expecting all night began.

  “Saw your father the other night, Gabriel. He’s not lookin’ good, son.”

  When Gabe nodded but didn’t respond, Red pressed on. “No, hard to believe Rory McKenna was once a good–lookin’ man. Not like you, of course. You look just like your Ma. Can say what you want, but you damn Black Irish got us reds comin’ and goin’.”

  Again Gabe nodded with a polite smile and focused on the cards.

  By this time all but Gabe, Red and Mike were out of the game. When Gabe took yet another huge pot, he suspected Red would soon be coming in for the kill. The asshole didn’t disappoint.

  “Chances are your dad ain’t gonna be around much longer, Gabriel. He’s gettin’ careless. It’s one thing to screw every society bitch in town, but it ain’t smart to take up with the gang molls.” Red chuckled. “You know what them gang leaders are like, Gabriel. They don’t like has-beens like your old man stickin’ their dicks in someone else’s property. Hell, if he ain’t careful, he’s gonna end up like your grandfather. Christ, boy, that’s some heritage you got. Rory McKenna’s son, and Brendon Doyle’s grandson. Fuckin’ Christ, kid, you don’t have a chance, do you?”

  Gabe smiled but his eyes were hard. “So, I’ve been told, Red. All of my life.”

  He reached out to scoop up the last pot and gave Mike a pleasant smile as he picked up the flustered man’s chips.

  “That takes the last of Mike’s chips, Red. And your pile is getting mighty small. Are you about to concede or do you want to play one more hand so that I can tell the world that the mighty Red Regan is full of shit. The only people he wins against are his chickinshit gang who’s too scared to tell their over the hill boss that he’s no better at poker than he is with women. That is why you only do virgins right, Red? I hear experienced women laugh in your face, but you’re too drunk to notice.”

  Dead silence hung over the table.

  A panoply of expressions ranged across Red’s face, from shock to fury, and finally to anger as cold and hard as Gabe’s.

  When Red spoke, his voice was soft but there wasn’t a person in the room who missed the threat. “I heard you got one of them photographic memories, Gabriel. Is that right? That somehow you know every card before it’s been played. Is that right, boy? I don’t know what other people call it, but I call it cheatin’. Yeah, Mr. Ace Angel, I’m calling you a cheater. Here’s what we’re gonna d
o, kid. Charlie here is gonna bring out a new deck. I like the look of that green one, Charlie. We’re gonna play one hand, Angel. Stud, seven cards. First two and the last one down. Oh, and Angel, just in case you really do have a photographic memory, we’re makin’ Jokers wild. Any objections, boy?”

  “How much are we playing for?”

  “How much you got, kid?”

  “A hundred thousand dollars, the pot in the middle and the only one who takes the girl.”

  A light dawned in Red’s eyes. He let out a soft whistle. “It’s about her, ain’t it, kid?”

  “Yeah, Red. It’s all about her.”

  “Christ, boy, you really are just like your father.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Red. I’m not anything like my father.”

  ~~~

  Gabe shrugged off Charlie’s worried frown. There was no question the deck was marked. Hell, so was the one they’d been playing with all night. The summer after they started working together, he and Eagle spent a month thinking up card codes until they thought they’d mastered every one known to man. Gabe was relieved to see the deck Red chose had a fairly simple code. He was more pleased that the cards weren’t just talking to him — they were shouting.

  By the fifth card, there wasn’t a sound in the room as the cards hit the table. When Red’s sixth card was an Ace, giving him a remarkable three Aces showing, his gang cheered. The excitement around the table was palpable. Red looked over at Gabe’s cards and laughed out loud.

  “Hell, kid, how does it feel? We both know that even if you had a joker, which you don’t, the other joker is buried too deep for you to get it. I’m reading you for a four flush or maybe an inside straight.”

  When Charlie dealt them each their last down card, Red jumped up in excitement.

  “Here you go, kid. Read ‘em and weep.”

  He pushed his three aces in the middle of the table then with a huge smile he turned over his first card, a joker, giving him four Aces. Cheers erupted across the table.

  Gabe held up his hand. “Not so fast, Red.”

  He turned over the three and the five of clubs and laid them beside the four and the six on the table. He took a long drag off his cigarette.

  “Strange as it seems, Red, given that they call me the Ace Angel, aces have never been my favorites. I prefer the less assuming deuce.”

  With a flip of the cards, he turned over the two of clubs, giving him the lowest straight flush in the deck… which was just enough to beat the best four of a kind.

  In the second of stunned silence that followed, Gabe’s knife flew from his hand landing in Pat’s neck.

  Meeting Red’s shocked gaze, then looking around the table, Gabe’s voice was cold.

  “You might want to look behind you fellows, or you’ll meet Pat’s fate.

  “But, then again, given what we have in store for you, you might prefer Pat’s fate.”

  Ana was as astounded as Red and his gang. At the same time that she saw Gabe’s knife leave his hand, strong arms grabbed her and pulled her from the stage. She looked up to see Dominic’s supposed butler smiling at her. He wrapped his arms around her, forming a protective shield. Even more surprising, each of the other Chinese “servants” was now brandishing a gun or a knife and strategically spaced behind the men at the table. She saw Mike’s hand go for his gun but in the next instant the Chinese man behind him whipped out a garrote and strangled him.

  The next five minutes were a blur. Gunnar and Eagle came out of nowhere, as did seven more of Gabe’s men. Within moments the gang members were all bound, gagged and tied to their chairs.

  Gabe stood to the side, smoking a cigarette. He had yet to look at her.

  When Red and his gang were immobilized, Gabe stepped forward.

  “We are waiting for one additional guest. When he arrives we will complete our mission. I suggest that being the good Catholics I’m sure you are, you spend these last moments of your life on Earth atoning for your past. You might start by praying for every virgin you raped and the first five or six men you killed. If you’re anything like me, they start running together after that.”

  Eagle’s voice was ice. “He’s here, Gabe.”

  At Gabe’s nod all of his men flattened against the wall.

  When Peter walked in, his usual supercilious smirk changed to puzzlement at the sight of the bound men at the table. Seconds later he let out a fearful cry.

  When Gabe stepped forward, Peter jumped back… only to land in the waiting grip of Eagle and Gunnar.

  In moments he was gagged and bound and tied to one of the chairs at the table.

  Gabe stood next to him and looked in his terrified eyes.

  All of the men at the table were making frantic, agonized sounds muffled by their gags as Gabe’s men walked among them, sprinkling them with gasoline.

  Gabe ignored the others and focused on Peter.

  “I know you like to be as far away from your dirty work as possible, Peter. You think that not seeing the men you ordered killed or tortured lessens your responsibility. As though Davy’s murder is not on your head. Or that you can’t be blamed for Chao’s or Kai’s near deaths. You think by not participating in the gang rape of Ana or others that you instigated mitigates your responsibility, makes it less your crime. No, Peter, it just means that like most murderers, torturers, and rapists you’re not only responsible, you’re also a coward. Tonight you don’t have the option for distance. Tonight you and the others will die a painful death. A message to any men who choose to provoke the wrath of Angel’s Avengers that eventually they too will pay for their crimes.”

  For the first time Gabe allowed himself to meet Ana’s gaze.

  He held out his arms. “Come here, Princess.” When she stumbled toward him, he scooped her up in his arms and followed his men down the hallway. As the last of his men left the room, Gabe said over his shoulder, “Light it.”

  Chapter 36

  Gabe glanced around the garish room and winced at the familiar trappings of red velvet and gold braid. He should have objected when they all accepted Dominic’s invitation and headed back to the Lucky Lady. Now listening to the sounds of Ana bathing in the next room, he acknowledged his bigger mistake. There’s no way in hell that he should have brought her here, or dammit, stayed in the same room with her. He looked over at the large opulent bed and shuddered. Taking a long drag off his cigarette, he prepared to explain to Ana why he couldn’t stay with her.

  When she came out of the bathroom, he almost swallowed his tongue. She’d insisted on bathing. Said she wanted to get rid of the smells of the gasoline, the burning building and the stench of the men. She also wanted to wash her face and her body. Scrub off the paints and polishes Maude’s women applied. Gabe was glad. He wouldn’t have said anything, but the sight of her whore’s getup, that only emphasized her frightened innocence, nearly broke his heart. But now, she looked like her own self, beautiful and even more enticing.

  Her skin was damp and flushed from her bath. Her long shiny hair hung in steamy waves. Her borrowed silk robe clung to the moist curves of her body emphasizing every hill and valley. Knowing that she was naked beneath the thin silk didn’t help. As if to strengthen his resolve, the image of her standing on the stage dignified, proud but unable to hide her fear and humiliation kicked his rage into high gear. He poured himself another glass of whisky and tossed it back.

  ~~~

  Ana saw the anger in his eyes. It frightened her. She didn’t know if he was angry with her or with the terrible things that had happened. But she knew if he didn’t hold her soon she might collapse, give in to the horror of the last two days. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her voice from trembling.

  “Gabe, are you okay? You… you look angry.”

  His voice was harsh. “Angry, Princess? Fuck angry. Try furious, enraged, murderous. I dunno, you think up the adjectives. The stronger the better. And, no, Princess, I am far from ‘okay.’”

  “But, are you… are you
upset with me? Something I did?”

  Gabe jumped up and began pacing across the room, then stopped and glared at her.

  “Jesus, Ana. How could you think that? What do you think I am? That I blame you for being kidnapped at gunpoint, drugged and whored up and put on auction for the pleasure of a bunch of despicable animals? Is that what you think of me?”

  Ana took a deep breath and said as calmly as she could, “I need you to hold me, Gabe.”

  She winced when she saw the pain flood his face. He stepped back and held up his hands. He made a visible effort to control his voice, the emotion she saw vibrating off of him.

  “I… I can’t, Ana. I can’t hold you.”

  Ana gasped, and put her hand over her mouth to cover her shock. “Why? Why not, Gabe? Why can’t you hold me?”

  He sighed long and hard. She felt his anguish from across the room. He turned to what she knew was his crutch. With his back toward her, he found his cigarette case and lit a cigarette. When he faced her, his expression was calm. Only the tension in the corded muscles of his neck betrayed his emotion.

  “Ana, you don’t understand. There’s no way I can just ‘hold’ you. Honey, killin’ and sex are damn well woven together. They get all tangled up in a way that isn’t pretty.” He held up his hand when she tried to interrupt.

  “No, Princess, you don’t want to be around a guy like me under most circumstances and sure as hell not after what happened tonight.”

  Ana took a step toward him.

  “I want you, Gabe.”

  He stepped back putting distance between them. “Ana, honey, you don’t understand.”

  She swallowed and willed her legs to stop shaking. Keeping her voice as firm as her pounding heart would allow, she said, “I want you to do what you did in the dojo. Make me feel like I did. Make what happened… make it happen again.”

  Gabe’s expression hardened. He held her gaze for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was cold, flat. “You need to know something, Ana. I am a hard lover. A demanding lover.”

  She shivered, surprised that his words excited her. Made her cheeks heat.