Dirty For Me (Motor City Royals)

by Jackie Ashenden

  Are you willing to take that chance though? What if she’s wrong?

  If she was wrong, fuck, everyone would pay. And it would be his fault.

  Christ, she was so near, the distance between them was so small. All he’d have to do is take one more step and he could pull her into his arms. Yet it may as well have been the Grand Canyon for all the good that did him.

  He’d believed in a woman before and made the wrong call, and he’d lost everything. He wasn’t going to do that again. There was only one path before him now and he had to walk it to the end. It was the only way any of them could ever be free.

  Tell yourself it’s about Madison. Tell yourself it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you can’t ever give Tamara what she needs.

  Zee ignored the thought, went to the calm, quiet space in his head that he went to before a fight. Where he was cold and focused and his goddamn emotions didn’t screw with him. “No,” he said, his voice coming out sounding flat.

  She blinked. “No what?”

  “No to everything. I’m not fucking risking it, and neither are you.”

  “Zee—”

  “I said no. There’s only one way to keep you safe and that’s for you to walk away. So that’s what you’re gonna do, understand me?” Something in his head raged and shouted, but he tuned it out. Hardened his heart against the needle that tried to pierce it. “Go back to your safe little life, pretty girl. Marry your boyfriend. Give him kids, whatever. Just don’t, whatever you do, come anywhere near me ever again.”

  She flinched as if he’d slapped her, that burning emotion in her face slowly dying. Making him feel as if he’d just dropped weed killer all over a beautiful flower. “Okay,” she said in a brittle voice. “I get it. But don’t pretend you’re doing this for me, Zee, let’s be honest. The only person you’re protecting is yourself.”

  The coiling anger tightened. “Like you’d know the first fucking thing about it.”

  All the hope had died out of her face, her expression shuttered. She looked small and cold and alone, and no matter how hard he tried not to feel it, his chest ached like someone had smashed him straight in the center of it. “Of course I know,” she said quietly. “You think you don’t deserve it, do you? You think you don’t deserve anything better, anything more.”

  He couldn’t speak all of a sudden, every part of him wanting to deny it. Tell her she was wrong, that it wasn’t about him and what he did and didn’t deserve, but the people he was trying to save.

  “No,” he forced out. “It’s got nothing to do with that.”

  The look in her eyes was bleak. “Really? But maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t deserve to have anything either.”

  “What the fuck do you mean by that?” The cold calm around him felt almost as brittle as the sound of her voice. As if it was going to shatter at any moment. “You deserve everything.”

  “But apparently not the chance of something real with you.”

  “Jesus Christ. How many times do I have to say it? I can’t—”

  “I know, believe me, I get it.” She gave a little shiver and looked away. “I did want to run away. I did want to escape. And you’re right about that, too, we can’t escape the past. We don’t deserve to. We don’t get to have anything more than the debts we have to pay.” She sounded like she was talking to herself. “Maybe we never stop paying. I guess that’s justice after all.”

  “Tamara—”

  “It’s okay, Zee.” She glanced back at him and there was something in her eyes that cracked his cold calm like a beer bottle dropped on a concrete floor. “I killed my own brother. I don’t deserve a thing.”

  Every cell in his body screamed at him to go to her, touch her. Tell her she was wrong, that she deserved everything good this world could give her. But how could he?

  She’s right. Everyone has a debt to pay and nothing ends until we pay it.

  Going after his father, ending him, that was his debt. He’d tried to make amends for Madison’s death with the paltry life he’d built for himself, giving back the way she’d told him he could, making a difference to people, improving things. But in the end, it wasn’t enough. Life demanded more.

  So he said nothing as Tamara looked at him for one long, endless moment.

  Then abruptly she turned away and walked past him, moving back toward the gates of her parents’ driveway, her steps crunching in the gravel. Walking back to her life sentence.

  Zee bit down hard on the urge to call her back and go after her. Throw her into the back of the Trans Am and take her away with him where no one would ever find them.

  But no. He had his sentence too.

  So he didn’t move. Just watched as she disappeared into the darkness.

  * * *

  She swore to herself she wouldn’t cry and she didn’t up until the moment Robert gave her the box and she opened it. There was a single diamond solitaire sitting inside, sparkling in the light from the chandelier in the drawing room. A tension set stone, the two halves of the ring clutching on tight to the jewel, squeezing it, holding it firmly in place.

  She couldn’t hold back the tears then, her chest so sore it felt like someone had stabbed her repeatedly with a blunt knife. She couldn’t speak either, so all she did was nod her head, watching as Robert took the ring out of the box and put it on her finger.

  Everyone was cheering and smiling, thinking her tears were from the surprise of it, the sheer happiness of the moment.

  No one knew that they were tears of pain.

  Because as Tamara looked at the ring glittering on her finger, she knew one thing.

  She was the diamond locked into her setting and nothing was going to set her free.

  It was what she deserved after all.

  Chapter 15

  Zee leaned forward and reached into the glove compartment of the Trans Am, his fingers curling around the handgun he kept in there and drawing it out. Checking the safety was on, he stuck it down the back of his jeans, then he got out of the car and did another quick check around.

  He’d come straight from Tamara’s to the meeting Joshua had demanded. His father had wanted him to come look at the abandoned warehouse he’d just bought out east of the city center, fuck knows why. Maybe it was going to be the site of some new drug operation or something.

  Whatever, Zee could not have cared less. That motherfucker wouldn’t have it long enough to do anything with it because as soon as Zee got in there, he was going to put him in the ground.

  The warehouse parking lot was surrounded by a chain-link fence, the concrete cracked and broken, weeds everywhere. The warehouse itself was a huge brick monolith, the windows as cracked as the ground he stood on and the ones that weren’t cracked were boarded up.

  Fucking place reminded him of Royal.

  Starting toward a pair of big double doors, Zee kept an eye out for any trouble. But the area remained deserted. Clearly his father hadn’t brought his usual entourage with him, which was a good thing. Zee had spent the past week trying to be the good, obedient son to allay his father’s suspicions, make it look like he’d do anything Joshua wanted him to for the sake of his friends.

  Looked like he’d succeeded.

  As Zee pulled open the door and stepped inside, he checked his gun again for reassurance.

  He only had one shot at this and fucking up was not an option.

  In the back of his head the desolate expression on Tamara’s face kept replaying, the sound of her voice saying she didn’t deserve anything. But he tried not to think of that. Had spent the whole goddamn drive from Grosse Pointe trying not to think about it.

  He couldn’t afford to, not now.

  She’d be okay anyway. She was safe where she was and shit, even though she might have to marry some dick for the sake of her own demons that was better than being dead. Wasn’t it?

  Yet the pain in his chest wouldn’t go away, the nagging ache of that needle stuck deep in his heart.

  Jesus Christ, he had to
get it together. Getting emotional would only screw things up and he couldn’t afford to do that if he was going to go through with this.

  It was a suicide mission, of that he was clear. He’d die in all probability, be gunned down by whoever else was protecting his father and if not now, if he managed to take them out too, then sooner or later they’d get to him and take revenge. He was under no illusions about that.

  That’s justice, though, isn’t it? Justice for Madison. You don’t deserve more, just like Tamara said....

  Zee shoved the voice away, shoved everything away, keeping his focus centered on the moment and his surroundings.

  The warehouse was a massive, empty, echoing space lit by harsh white fluorescents. Chains hung from the ceiling here and there, but apart from that, there was nothing else but the bare, pitted concrete floor and the brick walls.

  And his father standing in the center of it, his hands in the pockets of his black business pants.

  Not far off stood Krupin, his Russian henchman, because of course it would be too much to hope for that Joshua would be by himself. Then again, if Zee played this right, Krupin wouldn’t be a problem. He’d be Zee’s executioner, no doubt about that, but with any luck he wouldn’t be able to stop Zee getting off the first shot. The guy had always been slow on the draw after all.

  “Whaddya think?” Joshua didn’t look at Zee as he approached, staring around at the walls of his newest acquisition instead. “Got big plans for this place. Gonna turn it into apartments, yet keep the industrial feel. People lap that shit up by the bucketful.” Finally he turned and looked at Zee, his blue eyes glinting. “How did it go?”

  Zee folded his arms. “How did what go?”

  “Your visit with that rich bitch you’ve been fucking.”

  It took everything he had to keep his face completely still, to not let the shock that coursed through him show.

  Why are you surprised? Wasn’t this exactly what you were expecting?

  Behind his father, Krupin was staring at him, an evil smile twisting the guy’s mouth.

  Fuck. Okay, so somehow, someway, even though he’d thought he’d managed to throw off whoever was tailing him, he’d been seen with Tamara.

  His heart slammed against his chest and it was only through sheer force of will that he managed not to go for the gun sitting warmly at his back.

  But no, it was okay. If everything went according to plan, his father wouldn’t leave this warehouse alive and then it wouldn’t matter.

  “Oh, her?” He managed to keep his tone casual. “Bitch keeps calling me. I had to go talk to her to tell her to back off.”

  His father eyed him. “Pity. Because I’ve been thinking a lot about how we might use that to our advantage. Her daddy’s got a lot of influence that might be beneficial to us, know what I’m saying?”

  Holy shit. The prick was seriously considering using Tamara?

  Zee struggled to keep everything locked down. “Huh. I thought that shit wasn’t what you wanted?”

  Joshua lifted a shoulder. “It wasn’t. But times change, boy. Thinking the underground influence might not be all I want. I mean, come on. This city could use some street smarts and who’s the guy to give it if not me?” He smiled. “I got ambitions. More than pimping whores and running drugs. I want power. Real power. Power the fucking Lennoxes might just hand me on a plate if I’m lucky.”

  Something trickled down Zee’s spine, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Shock or anger or pain, he didn’t know. He tried not to think about it as he stared into his father’s face, watching greed gleam in Joshua’s pale blue eyes.

  This was the man who fathered him. He was cut from the very same cloth. And perhaps in the end, this was the way it should always have been. Poetic justice. He would kill the prick and then he too would die just as his mother had, and that would be the end of the Chase family. The end of the death and destruction that always came in their wake.

  The one who sins is the one who will die.

  He almost laughed. He’d been thinking of his father when he’d had that inked into his skin, but shit, it could be applied to himself, too.

  “I think I saw some junkies fucking around with the one of the windows out back,” he said flatly, looking past his father to Krupin. “Whatever, you might wanna go deal with them.”

  Krupin snorted. “Deal with it yourself, boy.”

  “Hey,” Joshua said, turning around unexpectedly. “Keep some respect in your tone when you’re talking to my son. Now go do what he fucking says. I could use some father-son time.”

  “But, sir—”

  “Now.”

  The man shot Zee a look that promised retribution, then stalked past him, heading for the door without another word.

  But Zee didn’t bother looking at him, more shock cascading through him. He hadn’t expected his father to back him up like that, not at all. Was this a test of loyalty for him? Because Joshua did love a good test, that was certain. Or was it that his father was so blind he simply couldn’t see how much Zee hated him? Maybe he didn’t even remember what he’d done, because not once, not in the whole week Zee had been around, had the man ever mentioned Madison to him.

  Joshua hadn’t moved, standing facing Zee with his hands in his pockets. Smiling.

  “There,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. “Now we can have a chat.”

  “Sure we can,” Zee replied smoothly. And pulled out his gun, unlocking the safety. “Chat away.”

  The smile on Joshua’s face didn’t budge. He looked at the gun pointed at him, then back to his son. “You waited a whole week. Congratulations. I’ve been expecting this for days.”

  “You’ve had it coming for years, you fucker.” The gun felt heavy and sure in Zee’s grip, like the certainty that this was the right thing to do. Shit, it was the only thing to do, the only thing that made sense.

  Joshua’s smile turned wolfish. “Oh probably. But you know you’re gonna go down with me if you pull that trigger, right?”

  “Yeah. I know.” He cocked the gun, the sound echoing around the warehouse.

  Still, Joshua didn’t move and didn’t stop smiling. “This is all because of that little bitch I had taken out years ago, right? The whiny rich girl? Please don’t tell me you’re still mad about it.”

  Christ, it would be so good to pull that trigger right now. Wipe that stupid smile off the sonofabitch’s face. “You should have had me killed along with her,” Zee said coldly. “Letting me go was a mistake.”

  “You got that right. You were such a whiny bitch yourself back then. Seems like nothing has changed.” Joshua swept him a contemptuous look. “I was doing you a favor getting her out of your life. You weren’t meant to play house in the suburbs or Robin Hood in Royal. You’re better than that shit. You’re like me, you’re in it for more, for the adrenaline rush. ’Cause that’s what the money is and that’s what the power does.”

  “You’re wrong. I’m nothing like you.” The metal felt cool against his finger. All he had to do was pull it and all this would end.

  “Sure you are. Why the hell else have you got a gun pointed at me? You think killing me will give you the higher ground?” The expression on Joshua’s face was almost feral. “It won’t. All it’ll mean is that we’re just the same.” He laughed. “So go on, boy. Do it.”

  Yeah. So do it.

  His palms were completely dry and he felt no fear. Killing his father would mean absolutely nothing to him. Which made it kind of strange to discover, right at the end, that the old man was right. He was like him after all.

  So pull the trigger already.

  He was going to. In fact, he should have done it seconds ago. “Maybe I am,” he said harshly. “We all get what we deserve old man, especially you.”

  Does Tamara?

  Zee blinked. Where the fuck had that thought come from? She had nothing to do with this.

  “I killed my own brother. I don’t deserve a thing.”

  The ache in his
chest was back, a heavy dragging sensation. And suddenly all he could see was her face and the hope that had burned there as she’d looked at him. As she’d told him what she wanted was to get in his car and go with him, wherever that was. A hope he’d killed stone dead, leaving her with nothing but bleakness in her eyes.

  It was for her protection. For her safety. And you couldn’t run from the past anyway.

  “Maybe we don’t get to have anything more than the debts we have to pay.”

  Well, he sure as hell didn’t.

  But does that mean she has to?

  Tamara, who was passionate and loyal. Who’d seen in him something more. A man whom she’d thought worthy of her deepest secrets. Who’d listened when he’d told her his and hadn’t flinched away. Who accepted him for who he was in a way no one else ever had.

  Was it really that she’d been trying to escape her past? Or was it that she’d dared to want something more, to reach beyond the prison sentence she’d given herself? And he’d thrown it back in her face because he was in the same hell she was in, paying for a death he’d caused, and hadn’t been able to see a way out of it.

  Except maybe . . . Maybe he was starting to see now. Not for himself and his guilt, but because he cared about her. Because if he killed this man here and now, who would be there for her? Who knew her like he did? No one. And if he wasn’t there, then she would be stuck in her prison cell for something that wasn’t even her fault.

  That mattered to him. That hurt worse than anything else he could imagine.

  “You gonna shoot me, boy?” Joshua made a show of looking at his watch. “’Cause I ain’t got time for this bullshit.”

  Fuck, he should just shoot this prick and be done with it. Because no matter how much that might hurt him, Tamara being at risk was far more painful than anything else.

  Yeah, because you’re a selfish dick. It’s not her pain you’re thinking of, it’s your own.

  The realization was cold as a mountain stream sliding over his skin. Of course this wasn’t about her. This was about his own fear. Of making the wrong choice. Of being responsible for someone else’s death. Of never being able to wipe away the stain of the death he’d caused.