Bennick turned a melting look of sympathy on her. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known earlier, I wouldn’t have sent you to the club.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. Bennick was too driven not to take any advantage that fell into his hands. Which made her wonder. How many people knew about this discovery? And if he kept it to himself, to what purpose?
“Mick O’Donnell heads a gang in Liverpool, England. Five years ago he was one of the biggest bosses in the country. Then he died in a house fire, one of the drug houses. He’s officially dead.” He glanced at Nick, who stood, seemingly relaxed, by her side, but she felt his tension as if it were her own. “His main business was prostitution and drugs. He had a network, from streetwalkers to high-class courtesans, thousand-dollar-a-night whores.”
Nick’s mouth quirked, but very slightly. Then it was gone again.
“Nobody knows exactly how much he made.” Bennick glanced up at Nick, and his expression hardened. “Do you know?”
Nick shrugged. “His assets will be seized in a couple of years, won’t they?”
“But in true gangster fashion, he owned very little.”
“Where did you get all this stuff?”
“You made one slip, Mick O’Donnell. You gave your girlfriend a card with your cell number on it. All I had to do was fingerprint it.”
Nick shook his head. “You’re mistaken.”
Her hands tightened on the arms of the chair, like they were working on their own. This beat any betrayal she might have done. He hadn’t told her. What, after a few days? her more practical self mocked. A legacy. Some legacy.
She wouldn’t have it out with him here, in the presence of her boss. He should have people waiting outside to arrest Nick/Mick, and she’d seen no evidence of that. Of course, they could be there now, but somehow she doubted it, because in here, she was the only witness.
Oh, fuck. He’d said he wanted to keep the club to themselves for now. Did he want to keep the information about the man standing by her side?
“So what do you want from Mick O’Donnell?” Nick said. He sounded calm, in control. Surely, if he was Mick, he’d be threatening violence or cursing. But he kept absolute control. Gang leaders didn’t do poetry; they didn’t make love like they meant it. Bennick had to be bluffing.
“Money, of course, but more than that. I want Odell Prejean on a plate.”
“Mick is most likely dead,” Nick said. “I don’t know if I can help you.”
“And you need to keep Genevieve safe, don’t you? Who knows what will happen to her in this wicked world?”
He was crooked; her boss was crooked. He’d crossed the line. How many other times had he done that?
“Odell Prejean is importing girls and employing them for a few weeks to give them some ID, then passing them on. Selling them, probably.”
Gen listened, but with the cynicism she should have employed when he’d told her before. She remembered the girls at the strip club. None of them showed signs of oppression, starvation, or fear. At the end of their working shift, they went home through that back door. On their own, with nobody following.
“He’s also importing men. I want some of him, and I want you to help me. I also want, shall we say, operating funds.”
“How will you explain the money?” Nick asked. He sounded more subdued now, as if he’d given in. Surely if he was the fearsome warrior Bennick had described, he wouldn’t give in so easily?
“I inherited it. That’s easy enough to arrange. I have a large family, and the next time one of my aunts passes on, I get her money. Don’t worry about that. I can handle it. Half a million for starters, in a secure box at a bank, and you can add more to it as you get it. I’ll tell you when it’s enough.”
“Will you now? And why should I do all these things?” Nick sounded so in control that she doubted he understood. She was shaking, her grip now a voluntary one to control her actions.
“Because I say so. You’ll do it because otherwise, life could get dangerous. I can stop your application like that.”
The finger snap sounded like a gun going off to Gen’s nervous ears.
“Then you won’t be able to stay.”
Nick glanced at Gen, then at Bennick. Hard-eyed, he turned on his heel and headed for the door. As he touched the doorknob, he said, “I’ll be in touch. Anything happens to Gen, I’ll come after you. If you believe anything about me, believe that.”
The door closed quietly behind him.
Bennick glanced at Gen. Again, she received the expression of melting sympathy. “I’m sorry, Gen. I didn’t know until recently. Otherwise I’d never have involved you.”
She’d had enough. She got to her feet, and although she was still shaking, and both men must have seen it, she wouldn’t let that stop her. She wanted to yell at him, tell him she’d go to the authorities. He’d used her, and he hadn’t ever intended to use his information for fast promotion. Just for money.
Stupid! If she did that, he’d kill her, or more likely, send someone else to do it. She couldn’t tell him that until she’d let other people into the secret. Until it wasn’t a secret anymore.
She took a moment to smooth back her hair, which had fallen out of its clip. She probably looked like a wild woman with her hair straggling around her face, but she didn’t care. “You used me.”
But Nick hadn’t. He never asked her to do him any favors, had never done anything but fuck her, let her fuck him, and try to take care of her.
Bennick’s lip turned in a sneer. “You can’t be that naive, Genevieve. Besides, you brought him in. You’re an asset.”
She shook her head. “It’s a shock.”
“Take the rest of the day off. A few days.” He leaned back, his chair creaking under the strain. She wished for it to break and deposit him on the floor, but of course it didn’t. “If you tell anyone, I’ll tell them you were in it all along. You went to Bared, got involved there to help recruit. You slept with Taylor, probably knew who he was all along. See?”
Yes, she saw. But she didn’t care. With her career shattered, she’d do what she could to ease her conscience and move on. She’d rather work in a supermarket for the rest of her days than fall in with Bennick’s plans. The bastard trafficked in human misery. She’d never have a part of it, so whether the authorities believed her or not, she’d tell them what she knew.
But to tell him that now would be suicide, so she nodded. “Sure. I’ll call you.”
Satisfaction settled on Bennick’s handsome features. “No, I’ll call you. Don’t go anywhere near Taylor. Let me handle him now.”
She didn’t trust herself to say any more.
She picked up her bag, walked out, and didn’t look back, making her way directly to the elevators.
Before the elevator arrived, a hand came over her shoulder and settled on the wall behind her. “I have to do it,” he said.
“No,” she said.
“Those attempts on your life, they were him.”
She turned to face him. “How do I know it wasn’t you? It’s your modus operandi, isn’t it?” Bracing herself, she stared into his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t let her get away until he’d finished with her. She felt prickly, uncomfortable in her own skin, ready to give somebody else a hard time.
“You only have my word. I didn’t do it. And for people like me, my word is my bond.” His lip turned up in a sneer. “Which is more than I can say for your slimy boss.”
They entered the elevator when it arrived. Even now, she wasn’t afraid to be alone with him, and she didn’t know why, now when she knew the truth about him. Would he confess it to her? “Were you who Bennick said?”
He didn’t reply but stared at her, thin-lipped. “Later. I promise.” He didn’t make promises lightly, she knew that.
Outside he hailed a taxi, and they got in.
They drove to her place in silence. He got out with her but told the cabbie to wait. He stood, legs apart, arms by his sides, already untouchable, a
s if he’d erected a force field around himself. “Stay away from me.”
“What?” She stared at him, bewildered.
“If he calls you, tell him you’ve finished with me, that you’re on his side.”
“I already did. Let him think he’s trapped me into joining him.”
He nodded. Relief filled his gaze. “That means you can’t stay with me because he might be having me watched. I don’t know how many accomplices he has, how much he knows, and if he’s targeted me. I need to discover more. I’m fully aware I can’t prove anything to you. You can’t be sure, can you? So keep away. Ring into work sick. Understand? You’ll hear from me once more, to tell you it’s safe. We’re done.”
His eyes gleamed, and his face was set in hard lines.
“What if I go to Bennick’s boss and tell her everything?” she demanded.
“That might be your best course of action,” he said. “But if you do, call me and I’ll make sure you get there safe. After that, ask for protection and let them put you in a safe house. Do what you need to stay safe and to keep your conscience clear.” His mouth twisted. “Mine died years ago. I throttled it when I was eleven years old. Good-bye, sweetheart.”
Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her. Just kissed her, but he took her as comprehensively as if they were both naked and he was about to fuck her senseless. She wanted him to. She slid her hands around his waist, held on while he devastated her with his mouth.
Addiction came in many forms.
When he pulled away from her, they were both panting, breath coming in ragged gasps. “Now slap me and go indoors.”
“What?”
“You heard me. He might be having you watched.”
He was right. Tears filled her eyes, and the slap was little more than a tap, but he made the most of it, swung his head to one side as her hand made the connection, as well as any Hollywood stuntman.
He turned away and got in the cab, but they didn’t drive away until she’d gone in and closed the front door behind her.
She went inside and gave way to the shocked torrent of tears she’d been holding back since she’d first heard the words Mick O’Donnell.
In the shower, she started to think again. The revelation had destroyed her capacity for analytical thought. So Nick was trying to build a new life. She knew from his file that he’d done nothing wrong since he’d arrived in the States five years ago. And she knew the man. He was essentially honorable, caring, and protective. He hadn’t lied to her, even if he’d left a few things out. But they hadn’t known each other long enough for something as important as that to come out. He may have planned to tell her himself.
On the other hand, Bennick had sent her into a club he suspected of being part of an illegal-immigrant racket without warning her first. As far as she’d known, she was going to a club to observe a single applicant for a green card, something she was used to doing. Not putting herself in danger. He was running an extortion racket, or he’d have called the authorities in to arrest Nick. He had enough evidence to put Nick away for life.
Bennick had sent her into unnecessary danger as if he didn’t care what happened to her. She didn’t trust him one little bit.
She reached for the shampoo, bumping her elbow on the edge of the stall as she usually did. However many times she did this, she never remembered to avoid it.
She scrubbed her hair without finesse, still wondering what to do, who to trust. Everything in her screamed at her that, despite his background, Nick was the man to put her faith in. He’d ensure she came to no harm. Shit, he’d even followed her to work when she’d told him they were finished, to make sure she got there safely. She knew it, from everything in his stance, from the meeting between the two men, when she saw them face-to-face and came to the realization that she’d been putting her trust in the wrong person.
If she went back to Nick now, told him, he’d turn her away. As far as he was concerned, he was toxic. Not to her, he wasn’t. She had to do something that showed him how much she cared, and what she was willing to do to prove it. She wouldn’t allow him to sideline her. As she considered the possibilities, she knew she’d have to do it in public so he had no chance to repudiate her, and she had to give him the decision—would he accept her or leave her to the predators? Force his protective instincts to the fore. Make him look.
Oh, fuck. Something occurred to her that made her legs go weak and her pussy dampen. She dropped her hands, let the shower rinse away the shampoo, suds cascading down her body as the visual image forced its way to the forefront of her mind.
Oh yes. She could do that.
Chapter Nine
Trust Odell to choose today to visit his mother. Denied his prey, Nick went home, his mind whirling, taking a detour to stop at his mailbox. He needed to get this under control, his fucking emotions. He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of feeling, except that grief and fury hammered through him without cease. He wanted to kill something, someone, anyone. A fucking house of cards, that was what he’d been building, but before he made any decisions about himself, he had to make things right here, make sure the woman he…respected and liked was safe.
He should have guessed. Poorly paid officials had comprised a big part of his past. They often had access to as much as the big bosses, and they were cheaper. Bennick was just another of the same. Nick didn’t know if someone was paying Bennick or if the man was working on his own, as he claimed. Nick could only pray for the latter. Easier to contain if only one man was involved.
So tempting to wait for Bennick to come out of work and take care of the problem quietly and neatly. He’d make a better job of it than that idiot in the car, and nobody would even know he’d been there.
But he wouldn’t give in. The bastard wasn’t worth giving up everything Nick had fought for over the last five years. His mind went to Gen. On the other hand, she was worth it. Would he give his life to help her? Probably, he concluded with a shrug. His life wasn’t worth a great deal anyway.
Once in his apartment, he opened the package from the mailbox. About time that phone arrived. He checked it over, slid in the battery, and watched it come to life. He had no fucking idea what Jim had put inside, but the man was one of the few people in the world he trusted. As soon as he’d activated it, it rang.
“About time,” said the voice at the other end. Jim. From the cultivated English accent, for a split second he thought he was speaking to his brother, and a bottomless pit opened in his stomach. He fought to close it.
“I’ve been busy,” he said, trying to keep the irritated growl out of his voice.
“Tell me about it. We’re in New York now, staying where I told you.”
“We?”
“Lawrence, his wife, and me. They’re out shopping. Otherwise I’d put him on the line.”
“No!” Shit, he should have stopped himself. Or perhaps not. He was so used to being on guard all the time he forgot he could trust his emotions with someone else. “I’m not ready.”
“You’ll never be ready. You just have to jump in.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t know how to counter that except with business. “Not yet, the time really isn’t right. Listen.” Briefly, he outlined the situation. “I don’t know which one is the greater danger, Odell or Bennick. Bennick could be telling the truth about Odell Prejean, bastard though he is. I need to neutralize him.”
“Going back to your old ways?”
“No.” He was sure about that now. “If Gen is in danger, then sure, I can do it, but I don’t want to. That’ll chase me for the rest of my life. I’ll never get any peace, and for what? A slimy bastard who wants to climb the slippery pole. Let him. He’s probably no worse than the people he’s joining.”
Jim made a sound of disbelief. “Ah! So what are you planning?”
“Nothing much. I’m going to talk to Odell, see how far that gets me.”
“Is that likely to tell you anything?”
He snorted. “I know when someone
’s lying, Jim.” Propping the phone between his chin and shoulder, he crossed the room to his kitchen area and reached for the kettle. “But I don’t base all my decisions on instinct. Do me a favor. Keep Larry out of this. Don’t tell him anything, not yet. It could go bad, in which case I’m disappearing.”
“And it would gut him to come so close and miss you.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“No.”
Shit, the guy sounded far more decisive than he remembered. The only thing Jim had been sure of was computers. Running his own life had proved a challenge. Still, five years could make a difference to a man. Nick knew that only too well. “Don’t. Not yet.”
“I got that. So can I help?”
“Only if you don’t take risks.”
Jim laughed derisively. “Like you don’t. Don’t worry. I won’t get caught, and I won’t leave tracks. A little research in the black and gray parts of the Net, and I can get what you want. So what is it?”
“Homeland Security. I need to know if Bennick has made tracks, and how he knew about me, my name, and where I’ve been.”
“I hear you. I’ll get back to you.”
They ended the call, and the kettle snapped as it boiled and turned off. He’d scoured New York for the kind of electric kettle he preferred. At home he’d have gone into the nearest supermarket and found six versions. But he still preferred New York. Something in the air drew him, and it would be a wrench to go. But he’d left places before, and if it meant Gen was safe, he’d do it. Take himself out of the equation, give Bennick nothing to blackmail her with.
More and more these days he was wondering if all this running and hiding was worth it. If Odell revealed him as Mick O’Donnell, he’d be deported, then imprisoned for one of the many crimes he’d done, or perhaps one he hadn’t, cleanup rates being what they were and the police keen to clear up as many as they could. Then he’d die, because he left more enemies than just the law behind, and they wouldn’t believe he’d come out of hiding for his health. Easier to quietly do away with him, sneak a medic into the prison, and give Nick a heart attack, or maybe make it look like a prison attack and leave him bleeding on a filthy floor somewhere. After all, it was only what he deserved.
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