He smirked as he lifted his beer high. “A toast to Kat,” he slurred. “Bes’ pussy in town. Or so I hear.” He laughed like a hyena at his wit and his obvious business acumen. Things were going well but he was itching to start the next phase of his master plan.
Harley. She was going to be his secret weapon to fund his tropical retirement, and all she had to do was show up. He’d take care of the details. Getting her here, though, that was the conundrum. Luis was killed by King, who was in love with Harley, who knew all about how Luis was killed by King. But the police didn’t know Luis was killed by King. And Stan was sure they’d be interested to hear all about it from an anonymous source if the cartel didn’t go along with his demands for money. The cartel would pay dearly to avoid that sort of drama.
Sure, everyone feared the cartel and with good reason. But he’d be long gone before they ever realized who had hoodwinked them, and Harley would be rotting in the ground by then. Sure, he and Harley would enjoy each other for a time but, sadly, their affair would have to be brief. He knew her routine by now, so he just needed to pick his moment to distract her on her way to her car, subdue her, and bring her home to play. And if she didn’t want to play with him? If she had the fucking audacity to reject him? Well, he had a lovely basement that had plenty of room. The cartel would pay him to keep quiet and return Harley to their fucking zookeeper, and he’d gladly take their money. Then he’d leave; if Harley didn’t want to come with him, she could just rot in the basement with Kat.
“The more, the merrier,” he muttered as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set his beer on the side table. “Motherfucker!” he bellowed when it tipped over and spilled. “Fuck,” he hissed as he stood on wobbly legs and attempted to mop up the spill with a t-shirt he found on the floor. “Good enough.” Luckily, his customers weren’t fussy and wouldn’t mind the smell of stale beer. He tossed the t-shirt in the corner and aimed his stumbling feet toward the basement door. He needed to check on the merchandise.
He found the girl exactly where he had left her, still in the stocks with her body draped over the sawhorse. Later, he planned on letting her out briefly so she could clean herself up and pee before he opened for business that night. But for now, she’d keep.
“Sucks to be you, doesn’t it,” he said as he sat on the bottom basement step. She barely turned her head now whenever he deigned to come downstairs to check on her. What was the point? She knew better than to ask for a hit; she only got that after the men had left for the night. That was their reward system and so far Stan thought it had worked fine. It kept her compliant for his clientele and it shut her up during the day.
He wasn’t sure how long she could keep up this pace, but he had never envisioned this as a long-term operation. As soon as he got his payoff from extorting the cartel about the murder of Luis, he wouldn’t need her anymore. That’s why he didn’t bother providing clothes or makeup. His customers didn’t care about any of that. It was a no-frills operation and he liked it that way.
“Fucking cartel won’t know what hit ‘em,” he muttered to himself. “They think they can do what they want and no one will ever find out. Well, I found out. I figured it out all by myself.”
Kat frowned. What was he talking about? No way would the cartel be doing business with him. She was already jonesing for another hit but knew better than to ask; knew better than to hope. There had been a time when her life was good and full of hope. She couldn’t remember much about it today, but she could see friendly faces in her mind’s eye. A man and a woman. They were her friends. Thank God they couldn’t see her like this.
Stan rolled his eyes as Kat whimpered nonsensically from her perch on the sawhorse. He fingered Harley’s business card and pulled out his cell phone. She didn’t have his number, but he sure had hers. He planned on maintaining the element of surprise before taking her and contacting the cartel, but what was the harm in calling her just to hear her voice?
Harley’s phone went straight to voicemail, which had him seething. Did she not know who she was dealing with? No, of course she didn’t. But she would. She should. Later he’d wish he hadn’t had that last beer.
“Harleeeey…I know what yer fuckin’ zookeeper did to poor old Luis.” He started snort-laughing and nearly forgot who he was calling, then cleared his throat. “Luis was an asshole. He fucked Valentina over when he tried to trick her into making one of those dirty movies. He tried to turn her into a whore! But now she’s with that Ramirez boy and he’s made her his whore.
“But Luis? He had it coming, but we both know tha’ was no accident or natural causes as you high n’ mighty medical professionals like to call it,” he said, his slurred speech dripping with sarcasm. “It was a cartel hit. Ha! I know it, you know it, and I’ll make sure the whole world knows it soon enough. You wan’ your boyfriend to stay outta pris’n? Then I guess that puts me in charge. You won’t know when--”
“Help me!” Kat screamed the two words as loud as she could, and Stan nearly dropped the phone as he struggled to his feet. Kat was half out of her mind but knew this would be her only chance to let anyone know she was in trouble. “Please, somebody help me! I’m in his basem”—it was all she got out before Stan backhanded her.
She had no idea who he had called, but maybe someone had heard her scream for help. As the blackness closed in, she wept, knowing all was lost. Her mind conjured an image of the man and woman from her past. They would have protected her if only she had let them. “Diego…I’m so sorry. So sorry…”
“See what you made me do?” he slurred, leaning down to look at her face as he dropped the phone to the floor. “Fuck. Tha’s gonna leave a mark. But what do I care? What does anyone care? You’re already a fuckin’ mess.”
He staggered across the room, holding onto the railing of the rickety stairs for support. After several false starts, he made it to the top of the steps. He would fall asleep in a drunken stupor, which gave Kat a brief but welcome reprieve.
Chapter Twenty Nine
“That’ll be all,” Tony said to the crisply uniformed maid who nodded deferentially and murmured a response in Spanish. When the door had closed behind her, Tony turned his attention to King and his woman, gesturing for them to partake of the coffee and pastries the maid had left.
“Must be nice living the high life,” King teased.
“She’s part of the family, man. You know how we roll around here. Can’t work for us unless you’re willing to be blood loyal.”
“Then maybe I’ll get a job here,” King chuckled.
“You’ve already got one -- and a good one, at that,” a deep voice drawled. Antonio Wayne was standing in the doorway, his assessing gaze locked on King and Harley.
He strode into the room, nodding at Tony as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Harley, this is Tony’s uncle, Antonio Wayne Ramirez,” King said, never taking his eyes off him. He’d known this confrontation was going to happen eventually, but he wasn’t expecting it to happen today. This could go either way.
Harley stuck her hand out in greeting. Antonio Wayne merely looked at it as if she had leprosy and pointedly took a sip from his coffee cup.
“I’m Harley…Davidson,” she said as she awkwardly let her arm drop to her side.
“I know who you are. And I know who your parents are. What I don’t know is what your intentions are.”
“Antonio Wayne...” King’s voice held a sharp edge of warning to it.
Harley placed her hand on King’s forearm. “It’s alright. I’m a big girl.” When she turned her head back in Antonio Wayne’s direction she could have sworn a flicker of amusement lit those dark eyes. “I don’t have any intentions. I’m simply spending time with a man who works for you.”
At her casual characterization of what, to him, was a life-altering love affair, King scowled and turned sharply toward her. “The fuck?!”
After another soothing look in his direction, she continued. “With all due respect, sir, I g
rew up around bikers so I learned how to keep my mouth shut at an early age.”
“So I hear. I’m here to remind you of the cartel’s expectations. Keep your mouth shut and you’ll live…a happy life with our King, here.” He gave her a small smile that stopped far short of his eyes. And with that, he set his coffee cup down and left without saying another word.
“Relax, my man. You know my uncle’s never going to pass up an opportunity to bust balls.”
King’s voice came out low between clenched teeth. “Well, now that we have his macho bullshit out of the way, let’s get down to business.” He looked down at Harley’s hand where it stroked his forearm soothingly. He slowly raised his head, meeting her gaze with fire in his eyes that belied his All-American surfer boy looks. It was one of the things the Ramirez brothers valued most about him: he was often underestimated so the element of surprise was always on his side.
Tony got right to the point. “I want you in on this job Blue is doing for us. She may need help. She’s been checking with her street contacts and word is there’s a new pimp causing trouble. Operates a solo operation away from town, heavily into bondage – brutal, nasty stuff. Looks like he’s using just one girl.”
“Who the hell would sign up for that?” King asked.
“Nobody would. That’s the thing: we think he’s taken one of our own. Kat’s a friend of Diego and Brook’s. She used to work at The Club; got mixed up with drugs and Diego had to let her go. But we’ve kept an eye on her from a distance, so we know she went missing right around the time this guy showed up. Blue just got a tip from one of the working girls who heard there’s a steady stream of men coming and going all night at an old, ramshackle house on River Road. If he’s got a stable of one with that kind of traffic, she won’t last long. I haven’t shared this beyond the two of you yet because I was hoping for confirmation before I start stirring shit up around here. But either way, we can’t wait.”
King held out his hand for Harley’s phone and she handed to him. “A lot of things are starting to make sense now. I think we’ve got your confirmation. Here, listen to this.”
He played the voicemail Harley had picked up on her phone that morning. A drunken voice threatened Harley and ranted about Valentina and the cartel’s role in the hit on Luis Jimenez. Then a woman screamed for help in the background. Just before the caller hung up, the woman could be heard weeping. Tony’s head jerked up in alarm when she sobbed a name and started saying she was sorry.
“Yeah, I know. It’s pretty intense,” King said as he handed the phone back to Harley.
“Shit, that’s Kat’s voice, alright,” Tony said in dismay. “She’s calling out for Diego. He and Brook haven’t spoken to her since she got kicked out of The Club. Tough love that didn’t turn out the way he’d hoped, I guess. Fuck…I’ve got to let him know what’s going on.” He leaned his head back and scrubbed his hands over his face. When he straightened, his face was flushed. “This is gonna kill him.”
“Well, I guess he’d rather hear it from you. I don’t envy you, man.”
“Yeah, me either,” Tony agreed. “You know, there are a couple of things going on here, and they seem to be intersecting in odd ways. Blue’s sources have been working overtime since she checked in with them last night. Word is this asshole works at the hospital.”
“What?!” Harley blurted as she perched on the edge of her seat. “Shit. I know who it is. I thought he sounded familiar, but I didn’t want to believe it.” She turned to King. “It’s our new janitor, Stan. Creepy guy. He started out really shy around me, not able to even look at me. Now he just stares at me whenever he thinks I’m not looking.”
“Well, it gets better, folks,” Tony chimed in. “He’s a namedropper and has bragged about working on the Telenovela set with Valentina before she and Victor got together. With the way the guy’s going on about Valentina in that recording, it looks like Luis wasn’t her only problem after all. The cartel may have some unfinished business with this guy. Somehow the guy flew under the radar until now, but he seems to be growing more confident. Here’s my theory: when he found out he couldn’t have Valentina, he moved on and abducted Kat. Stalkers stalk; it’s what they’re born to do. But sometimes, when they’re convinced they can’t have a particular woman, they’ll move on and find another victim, either because they’ve truly given up or they want to make an example of the new victim to get the previous victim’s attention. Crazy shit, either way.”
“It sure the fuck is; but that’s not all,” King said grimly. “There’s something else. Harley’s also got the husband of a domestic abuse victim threatening her.” King scrolled through her texts and showed him the threatening message she had received from the unknown number. “What are the fucking chances of her having two maniacs pissed at her at the same time?”
Tony leaned back in his office chair, his eyes on Harley. “Looks to me like your woman is going to fit right in, King. She’s getting a crash course in cartel life and seems to be holding up fine, which is more than I would say about most civilians.”
They all laughed, and the previous tension was soon all but forgotten. King, however, was determined to get to the bottom of things by doing what he did best. “Tony, I appreciate you reaching out to Diego since you’re close to him. But I need your help with Harley’s situation; I need to know what makes this wife beater tick. The best approach is psychological, I think.”
“Usually is,” Tony agreed.
“What’s he afraid of? I’d rather not kill him, if possible. I’ve had enough of that for a while. I do, however, want to ensure he stops beating his wife, and leaves my woman alone.”
Harley looked over at King and shook her head skeptically. “I don’t know if you can ever stop an abuser from abusing. But what if we could set the stage for her to kill him in self-defense and get away with it? It would be in her best interests if we could do that without her realizing it. She already knows me; I’ll befriend her and find a way to give her the gun. Problem solved.”
“I don’t like it.” King’s answer was immediate and just as adamant as hers had been moments before.
“The way I see it, you want to help karma along; I want to keep him from killing his wife. We both get what we want.”
“There’s no way I’m putting you in the line of fire. I feel sorry for the lady, yeah, but she’s not my responsibility. You are.” King’s forbidding demeanor made it clear: she would have to think of another way to save her patient. At her expression of dismay, his eyes softened. “You can’t save everyone, Harley. You’re a nurse; it’s in your nature to help, to heal. I get it. But some people can’t be saved, no matter what you do.”
Chapter Thirty
“Tony, how’s it going?” Diego Dias held his cell to his ear as he leaned back in his leather club chair and crossed an ankle over a knee. The brief pulse of silence over the line had the hair on the back of his neck bristling. His body stilled as the premonition of some unspeakable darkness settled over him. Somehow, he knew this wasn’t a social call. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips into a flat, forbidding line. Fuck.
“Well, I’ve been better. Thanks for taking my call, man. Got a minute?”
“For you? Sure. But why do I think you’re not calling to invite me over for dinner?”
“Wish I was.”
Diego Dias was a valued part of the Ramirez inner circle as well as being the proprietor of The Club, an exclusive gentlemen’s club that offered the best strippers, music, food, and behind-the-scenes carnal indulgences of any club…anywhere. At least, he thought so and his profits didn’t lie. He and Tony Ramirez went way back so it wasn’t unusual for Tony to call from time to time to check in. But his voice had never sounded so stiff and uncertain before.
“Listen, it’s about Kat.” Tony exhaled harshly before continuing. “You know the cartel has been keeping an eye on her ever since she left…”
“You mean, ever since I kicked her out.”
“Man, you did the
only thing you could do, given the situation. But she’s gone missing, so I’m calling to tell you--”
“I’m on my way,” he said, standing up and reaching for his keys, his jaw ticking furiously.
“What? Why?”
“If she’s missing and you’re calling me, that tells me she’s dead. Where is she? I’ll handle the arrangements--”
“No, no, fuck no, she’s not dead. At least, we don’t think so. Not yet.”
Diego exhaled impatiently and settled his hand on his hip. “Then would you get to the fucking point, Tony?”
“We’re still piecing it all together, but we think she’s being held by one of her johns. Weirdly enough, it’s some guy who used to work on that Telenovela with Valentina. Maintenance guy. He works at a local hospital now.”
“What the fuck’s he doing here?” Diego fumed.
“An obsessed fan who’s moved on to bigger and nastier things, sounds like. We think he’s keeping her imprisoned in a basement or shed as some sort of sex slave for hire.”
“Fucking hell.”
“Yeah.” Tony was silent. He felt bad for his friend. Diego had looked out for Kat like a brother. He wished he had better news for him. “The guy drunk dialed Harley and started spouting off about the cartel so we’ll be dealing with that, but we’re pretty sure we heard Kat in the background.”
“What do you mean, you could hear her? What the fuck could you hear?”
More silence. “She was crying, man. Telling you she was sorry. Sounded really strung out.”
“Motherfucker!” Diego bit out the epithet between clenched teeth. Hold on, Kat.
“We think we’ve got a line on her location.”
“Where the fuck is she?”
“I’m not going to tell you that. You’re going to have to trust me on this, okay? I’m just letting you know that we think we know where she is and we’re handling it. We’ve got Blue taking the lead on this and she’s a badass. She’ll get her out of there and maybe rip that guy a new asshole while she’s at it. I’ll be back in touch when I have an update for you.”
Daring Summer (Colombian Cartel Book 5) Page 15
