by Abby Niles
The sudden ding-dong of the doorbell exploded in the quiet house. She jumped, her heart crashing against her ribs.
She slowly rose and inched toward the door, cursing the tightness constricting her throat. The fear angered her. She hadn’t felt like this over a doorbell in years. She wrapped her fingers around the baseball bat she had leaned against the wall.
“Who is it?” she called.
She peeked out the peephole. A man with a bandage on his forehead stood before two other men. Icy fear washed over her as it sank in that two of the men on the other side of the door were the Soprano wannabes who’d ganged up on Lance. Their ringleader—Ralph, if she recalled correctly—was missing, most likely because he was still recovering, as it’d only been a few days since the accident. That obviously hadn’t stopped the second in command from stepping forward to take his place.
Leaning against the door, she hugged the bat to her chest, mind racing with so many questions she could barely keep up. How did they know where she lived?
“What do you want?” she yelled through the door, glad to hear that her voice remained steady, even though everything else was shaking.
“We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“I think you will…Ella.”
At his use of her real name, her lungs ceased to function, and a cold sweat broke out over her body. The bat fell from her grasp, clattering to the floor. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, then slowly released her breath and opened the door to an arrogant smile, belonging to an equally arrogant man.
“We thought that would make you a little more willing to talk,” he said.
“How?”
One word was all she could manage. All her careful planning, her need to disappear for a while, destroyed. Someone knew who she was.
“Did you think we haven’t been watching you…investigating you? You involved yourself in McNealy business.” His gaze went to the bat lying on the ground then back up to her. “As long as you cooperate, we won’t hurt you. All we’re here to do today is give you a job.”
“A-a job?”
He stepped closer, into her personal bubble, and even though every cell of her being screamed for her to put distance between them, she stood stock-still.
Never show weakness. Never allow intimidation. Always exude dominance. She repeated her mantra, using the words to anchor the fear quickly rising up.
“We need a doctor.”
The mention of her occupation was so unexpected, all she could do was blink at them while her mind tried to make sense of what was happening. They needed a doctor. She was a doctor. Somehow they’d found out her name and what she did for a living, and now wanted to involve her in whatever illegal shit they operated. That final thought clicked her into focus.
Not happening. She didn’t care who they were or why they needed a doctor; she wasn’t getting pulled into some dark underground world.
“I believe there are plenty of doctors within a fifty mile radius who’d be thrilled to help you. I’m not one of them. Go find someone else.”
The man crossed the threshold and charged at her so quickly, her mantra flew out of her mind, and she stumbled backward until the wall prevented her from going any farther. The feeling of being trapped caused white spots to form before her eyes, and she sucked air into her lungs as he pressed his face into hers.
“You’re under the mistaken impression you get to refuse. You don’t.”
He was too close. Too intimidating. She wanted to crumble. Cry. Run. Hide.
Tears blurred her vision and enraged her. If this man could make her feel like this, then she’d never get to return home, because she would all but crumble the moment Randy came at her. Between clenched teeth, she forced out, “You need to back up.”
“Or what?”
Before she thought about that question too long, she shot her hand out and karate whacked him in the front of the throat. He fell to his knees, gagging as he clutched his neck. Her victory was short lived, as the two other guys raced across the threshold. One closed the front door, while the other pulled a gun on her. The barrel inches from her face. She froze.
“That was fucking uncool, bitch,” the one with the gun said.
She raised her hands in surrender, heart pounding so hard and fast she worried she’d pass out.
“Put…the goddamn gun down,” the guy on his knees rasped out, waving his hand at the one with the weapon. He struggled to his feet and pinned her with a deadly stare. “I underestimated you. I won’t make that mistake again,” he said in a much deeper, huskier voice than before.
“Get out, or I’m calling the cops,” she said.
He scoffed. “Go right ahead. While you’re at it, tell Chief Smith that Mark wants a chance to win his money back.”
So these people had the law on their side.
“I’m only in town temporarily,” she said, grasping for any way to get out of this.
“We know exactly why you’re here, Ella. That nasty ex of yours was released from prison today, wasn’t he? I bet he’d be interested to learn your whereabouts.”
Stunned, she opened her mouth to deny his accusation, but no words would come out. There was no point. They knew everything about her, had quickly put together why she was using an alias, who she was terrified of, and why she’d run—and had no issues using it against her.
“You wouldn’t,” she finally managed to say.
“The hell we wouldn’t. You have a choice, Ella. You can make this easy on yourself and take the job, or we’re going to make your life a living hell.” A menacing look encased his face, one that said clearly that he’d make good on his promise. “Just so we’re clear. Don’t disappear on us. We wouldn’t want to be forced to switch our focus to Brooke or your mother. All we want is your cooperation. No one else has to be involved…unless, of course, you decide to involve them.”
The veiled threat to her mother and best friend chilled her more than anything else he’d said. She wasn’t tied to Cheney, Kansas. If she wanted, she could up and leave without notice. Go anywhere. But her loved ones were a different story.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said between clenched teeth, knowing she wouldn’t pack and leave. She’d never put anyone else in danger.
“That’s a good girl.”
“What exactly do you need a doctor for?”
“You’ll be told when you arrive.”
“You do understand that I have limited resources, right? I’m not even practicing right now.”
“It’s all been taken care of. You just show up.” He handed her a folded piece of paper, which she hesitantly took. “Don’t be late.” Then he made a flicking motion with his hand and the two guys behind him did an about-face and walked out of the house onto the porch.
Ella closed the door, leaned her forehead against the wood, and stared at the piece of paper in her hand. All of this trouble because she’d stepped in to help—twice. What a reward for being a Good Samaritan. Had she minded her business that day, she wouldn’t be on anyone’s radar.
She unfolded the paper and stared at the typed note. Nothing but an address and a time. She crushed the paper in her fist as anger flared hot through her. She’d barely escaped one dangerous man. Now she was the focus of a whole group of them, who didn’t just use their fists. They used guns, and threatened her family and friends, to get what they wanted.
And Lance had some sort of association with them. This was exactly the reminder she needed to stifle her attraction to him. While the man she trained with came across as patient and endearing, he was hiding a darker side. A man’s darker side had been hidden from her before and hadn’t surfaced until it was too late to protect herself. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Chapter Four
What the hell am I doing?
As Ella drove down the deserted road somewhere between Cheney and Wichita, she gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried not to think about the unknown that lay before
her. If she did, she was liable to have an outright panic attack.
The flatness of the land around her made everything feel more isolated. The fact that it was nine at night and darker than black because of the moonless sky didn’t help either. She had no idea what the hell she was walking into—or who she was really dealing with.
As soon as the thugs had left earlier, she’d hopped into the car and gone to the library to use their computers. She had done a search for “McNealy, Kansas” which had produced a long list of results. None of them bad. If she was dealing with the same McNealys, who were two cousins that had built a fortune on a line of successful convenience stores, they had a very favorable reputation around the area and regularly donated huge amounts of money to the city.
Dirty money she’d bet. Those convenience stores had to be a front for some kind of illegal business. Either the local government didn’t know about it or didn’t care, if all the ribbon cutting pictures were any indication.
What the hell could they need her help with?
Crazy mob-related scenarios like them needing her to make a death look natural, or tell them how to get rid of a body flew through her head. God, she’d watched too much Sopranos and Breaking Bad. But the elusive McNealys freaked her out. All she could think about was how much they knew about her and how fast they’d found it out.
It’d taken her a while to figure out where they’d gotten their lead. She had a fake ID, fake name, and she’d left all identifying material back in Maine—except her car. She had to assume they’d followed her at some point over the last few days and taken down her tag number. A huge oversight on her part. It’d been so long since she’d been pulled over or even had a fender bender, her tag being traceable had never crossed her mind. It should have though, because that presented a slew of new problems she hadn’t figured in—like what would she do if she were pulled over?
She couldn’t worry about that. One thing at a time. Right now, whatever the hell mess she was in required her entire focus.
Taking a left onto a dirt road, she swallowed. Off in the far distance was an aura of light, brightening the horizon. She could only assume that was her destination. As she drove closer, a large square structure took shape—a warehouse maybe?
Nerves twisted her stomach hard, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm the tingles that were spreading from her gut to the tips of her fingers.
Though no one was in front of her, she silently repeated her mantra. Never show weakness. Never allow intimidation. Always exude confidence. Unlike when she was face-to-face with someone who set her panic off, her chant didn’t help because this time her enemy was bodiless.
Once she reached the warehouse, she noticed at least fifty cars parked outside the building. Lights from inside poured out of open bay doors. The bass from the music slightly vibrated her car. People milled about outside—both men and women. Ordinary looking people in ordinary, everyday clothes. Some of her tension eased. There was no way some insane mob murder plot would take place with this many witnesses.
After she parked her car, she walked across the gravel lot toward a bay door. The pulsating music pounded through her skull. Why would the McNealys need a doctor for a dance party?
As she entered the bay doors, everything made sense. This wasn’t a dance party. It was way worse. Violent and dangerous. People lining up willingly to allow another person to abuse them.
She stared at the large, octagon-shaped cage set up in the middle of the room and swallowed hard. This may be her undoing.
While she’d trained her ass off learning everything these fighters knew, she stayed clear of the actual sport. And her issue really wasn’t with the sport, or even the injuries. It was the fists slamming into faces. The sound of the impact from a powerful punch. The domination of one over the other until a referee intervened. The sight of a man knocked out on his feet then thudding to the canvas unconscious. It didn’t matter that it was two willing people. It was too close to home. Too much of a reminder. Too fucking hard to watch.
In this large building, she was alone in her thinking. At least a hundred people were in attendance. Some were sitting on bleachers that had been erected against the walls. Others sat on the metal chairs positioned around the cage. Excited chatter buzzed beneath the thumping music.
Every fiber of her being rebelled against this, encouraged her to race back to her car and damn the consequences. She was so close to caving, but she refused the impulse. This was her fear taking hold again. The mind fuck that Randy had beat into her. Here was her chance to get past another hurdle she’d been forced to live with since that night.
A huge fuck-you to Randy. She would face this, and she would persevere.
Feeling more confident, she stood a little straighter and walked farther into the building. She wasn’t sure who she was looking for, or even where she was supposed to go. As she weaved through the crowd, someone blew smoke right in her face. A pungent, earthy odor assaulted her nose, and she waved her hand in front of her to clear the air. She hoped pot was the only drug under this roof.
A lanky man dressed in designer jeans and a T-shirt leaned against the wall and watched her curiously, and she returned his gaze, knowing instantly that this was one of the cousins from the pictures she’d seen on the internet. There was something about the commanding way he held himself that seemed to contradict the shagginess of his brown hair and his droopy, blood-shot eyes. There was no question he took part in the recreational substances being passed around. He smiled and gave her a lazy wave, then he pushed off the wall and headed straight for her.
While his strides were loose and carefree, he acted as if he owned the place. She guessed he did. As he passed people, he patted them on the back, giving high-fives and hearty handshakes. “Kelsey. What’s up?” He lifted his hand high in the air as if he expected her to slap hands with him like everyone else had. So not happening.
“Okay,” he drawled out, wiping his palm down his chest. “Still a little upset. I can dig.”
What in the hell? How was someone like this the leader of a dangerous organization? He barely seemed able to focus on the here-and-now, much less capable of handling dirty business.
“I’m Gabe McNealy. Welcome to the new McNealy vision.” He swept his arm around the room. “Isn’t it magnificent?”
What other drugs was this man on? Magnificent would not be the word she’d use to describe this place. Filthy, maybe.
“We’re thrilled to have you join our team,” he continued.
“Like you gave me a choice.” Maybe being mouthy was the wrong thing to do, but she now knew why he had three goons do all his dirty work. He was too high to do it himself.
“Oh, someone’s still a little put out by our visit.”
“Your thugs pointed a gun at me and threatened my family.”
“So what you’re saying is, you didn’t cooperate. We have no control over our boys when they leave our office. Their job is to secure what we want. How they do it is no concern to us, just as long as it gets done.” Those blood-shot green eyes sharpened with an intelligence that far surpassed a normal stoner. “Simply put—we wanted you. We went to any length to get you, and we will go to any length to keep you. Are we clear?”
She gave a shaky nod, disturbed by his change in demeanor.
Then he gave her a dopey smile and two thumbs up. “Awesome. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, where is that cousin of mine?”
At his ability to go from happy-go-lucky pothead to shrewd businessman within seconds, Ella gulped. Yeah, he was not a man to underestimate. She had no doubt Gabe had smoked up, but his dazed and confused performance was just that—a performance. Underneath was a cold, calculating man.
He scanned the room then lifted his arm and motioned to someone behind her. Ella chanced a glance over her shoulder, knowing she was about to meet the other part of the “we” he’d mentioned. A few feet away, another thin man stood talking to a balding man who looked familiar. Where had she…? A
soft gasp of realization shot out of her mouth.
The Chief of Police, Andrew Smith. She’d come across a photo of him shaking Gabe’s hand in front of a brand new police cruiser. The McNealys had made a huge donation to the station, which had helped them buy a fleet of new vehicles. She glanced around the room and spotted the mayor a few feet away. Jesus. She was in over her head.
The other cousin slapped the chief on the shoulder then made his way over to them. The family resemblance was there. While he was dressed in the same casual manner as his cousin, his green eyes were clear and his brown hair was cut in a close-cropped style. He had a baby face that hid his true age and made him seem innocent and approachable. The smile he offered her was full of charm and warmth.
“Kel-Kel…” Gabe said, starting an offhand introduction. “You don’t mind if I call you that do you?”
Yeah, she did, but it wasn’t like she was going to object right now.
“This is Mitch, the evil genius behind this venture.” He cupped his hand over his mouth as if he was about to tell a secret. “He’s straight-edge and can be such a downer.”
Mitch frowned at Gabe, then told Ella, “Don’t mind him. He’s been enjoying the festivities tonight.” He offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Kelsey.”
She ignored the outstretched hand.
Gabe patted Mitch on the back. “Don’t mind her. She’s still a bit pissy about earlier.”
“Understandable,” Mitch said, lowering his arm.
Ella shuffled, completely off-kilter with these two, which was most likely their agenda. She hated the feeling of being unbalanced—not in control. At this point, there was nothing she could do about it but be vigilant.
“We’re really excited about tonight’s event,” Gabe said.
“There’ll be five fights tonight,” Mitch added. “If they’re good fights, you’ll be busy.”
The excitement in both men’s voices turned her stomach.
“Come on. We’ve got a freakin’ rockin’ surprise for you,” Gabe said.
