BOUND TO A KILLER

by Evelyn Glass

  “Yeah, she’s passed out upstairs,” I flashed him a grin. “Guess I wore her out.”

  “Impressive,” he cocked his eyebrow. “I heard there was some trouble over at your place last night.”

  “There was a break–in,” I replied, hackles raised. Both of us were dancing around the point, and I didn’t want to be the one to call him out on it.

  “Shame,” he shot back calmly. “Bad neighborhood, though. I guess that’s what you can expect.”

  “I guess so,” I nodded glancing down at my cards where I’d laid them on them table.

  “Both of you were alright, though?” He confirmed, running a hand over his cropped hair.

  “Yeah, both of us were fine,” I nodded, daring him to push me any further on the subject. Instead, he asked something that took me by surprise.

  “Angel’s her name, right?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Why?”

  “I was doing a bit of research into her,” he shrugged. “Thought the name sounded familiar. It’s not the first dealings her family have had with us, you know.”

  “What do you mean?” I wrinkled up my nose. I would have heard about it if Angel had been tied to this lot before, because I would have used it to try and ruin her career, of course. This was news to me.

  “Her father was a cop too,” Thad went on, and he eyed me interestedly as he recounted the story. I stayed quiet, letting him continue. “He worked with the undercover unit so he was away from home a lot, but everyone loved his daughter. You can find that out from anyone he worked with. They’ll tell you.”

  “What happened to him?” I noticed that he was referring to Angel’s father in the past tense.

  “He’s dead. Died on the way to her ballet rehearsal.” The son of a bitch was grinning as he said the cold words. My teeth were on edge.

  “How?”

  “Car accident.” A small smile played at the corner of his lips, as though he was amused by the story his was recounting. There was a small glint in his eye, and I knew that he wasn’t telling me this just because.

  I swallowed heavily, trying to figure out what his game plan was here.

  “Richard Greer, taken too soon,” he shook his head. “They say that’s why she became a cop, you know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she sure as shit wasn’t going to be a ballet dancer after that!” He laughed, as if delivering the punchline to a fantastic joke. I clasped my hands in front of me, around my drink, and took a sip. I needed to get my head on straight, need to figure out what he was playing at by telling me all of this. I had no idea what the end–game was here, but it had to be something. Thaddeus Bane hadn’t done something just for the fun of it without a twenty–something girl in his bed for at least a decade, that was for certain.

  He paused for a moment, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he waited for me to follow up with another question. I had no idea what to say next. I was still trying to get my head around this situation in the first place.

  “I know who killed him,” Thad spread his hands wide as he spoke, shuffling some of the cards that had been abandoned on the table.

  “What the fuck? I thought you said he died in a car accident?” I furrowed my brow at once.

  “He did,” Thad confirmed, his voice soothing. “But I know why.”

  “Why?” I leaned forward at once, my heart beating out of my chest. I didn’t know why he was telling me this, but I had to know more. Had to know now. Maybe that was why Angel didn’t run when I told her about Thaddeus, and that I wanted to bring him down–maybe she saw a chance to do something her father hadn’t, a way to make him proud despite his absence.

  Thaddeus leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. He looked as if he was in his element, taking total control of the situation and not giving much of a damn about my reaction or my feelings on the matter.

  “How much are you willing to gamble for it?” His voice was cool and smooth. I stared at him for a moment, blinking.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I snapped. The words came out harsher that I intended them to, and Thad’s face flashed with annoyance briefly at my insolence before returning to its previous state of cat–like satisfaction.

  “You heard me,” Thad replied. “And I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”

  “For the truth about who killed her father?” I raised my eyebrows. “I’m afraid I’m not that invested in her.”

  “Think about the cash you could get from the cops if you delivered the truth about one of their own, though,” he pointed out. I would let him talk himself into this corner, and then I could find out what he was he wanted from me.

  “I suppose…” I trailed off, as though I was considering the offer. “You did give me Angel, and I’ve had, uh, a lot of fun with her since she arrived.”

  “Good,” he grinned widely. “Then you agree.”

  “Tell me what you want,” I shrugged. Maybe he wanted me to work at the club, a full–time card shark? Maybe it was just cash he wanted, or the opportunity to get rid of me for good. Whatever I was expecting out of his mouth, it wasn’t what actually came out next. He sat back in his seat and stared at me, his eyes blazing with satisfaction, and finally delivered the killer blow.

  “I want a night with Angel. No questions asked, no holds barred. And then you’ll get what you want.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I woke up, Breaker was gone. I sat up in bed, rubbed my eyes, and looked around. Yep, he was nowhere to be seen. I got up and wandered around a little, but found nothing to indicate that he was anywhere nearby. He had left me alone in this place. Completely and utterly alone.

  Jeez, he could have at least left a note or some shit. It wasn’t like I was some one night stand he could slip out on while I was still out for the count. He owed me at the very least some kind of explanation before he dumped me here without a soul to talk to. I wandered around the apartment, giving it a half–hour in case he’d gone out to get us some coffee or something, but he didn’t arrive back. His coat and shoes were gone, and so were his keys. I had no idea where he might have gone, but he was even more of an idiot than I thought if he imagined that I was just going to sit here, all docile and obedient, until he graced me with his presence once again.

  I couldn’t help but feel kind of put out that he’d apparently dumped me without a word that morning, especially after what had happened the night before. I climbed into the shower after a few minutes, letting the hot water cascade over me and wash the scent of him off my skin. Had he even come to bed? His side of the covers were untouched, and I assumed that he’d ducked out as soon as I started snoring. Jack–off.

  As my hands moved over my body, I couldn’t help but remember our encounter the night before. I mean, how could I not? I had never been fucked like that in my entire life. No matter what happened from here on out, I would never forget the moments we shared there. There were still faint red marks on my wrists from where he had restrained me, and I loved feeling them, a reminder of what he would do to me given half a chance. I had hoped we might be able to pull off a repeat performance this morning, but he had obviously had better ideas.

  Well, watch me. I wasn’t going to stick around and wait for him to come entertain me again, stuck up in this apartment like a princess in a tower. I ran my hands through my hair, glad it was short enough to dry quickly. I ran a towel over it and went to the bathroom mirror, peering at myself.

  I looked different. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but something had changed about me. It wasn’t the way I looked, because I didn’t normally spend much time on my appearance anyway. No, this was something less explicit. I ran my fingers through my hair and spiked it up and away from my face, and returned to the bedroom so I could go through Breaker’s wardrobe.

  I managed to dig up a pair of jeans and a belt that I could just about get secured around my waist. I was at least four or five full inches smaller than Breaker, and I had tr
ouble keeping them up initially, but I eventually got them to stick. I found a shirt that looked okay tucked into the waistband, and grabbed for the heels that he had brought me a couple of days ago. They weren’t ideal, but at least they actually fit me. And besides, I wasn’t going for looks here. I was going to get into that club and see what I could find out without Breaker on my arm the whole time. I knew his presence scared some of the guys off, and I had a feeling they’d be much more willing to spill shit to me if they didn’t have to go through Breaker to do it.

  I made my way downstairs, grabbing a set of keys off the table absentmindedly as I went. I wasn’t even sure if they were for the apartment, but part of me just felt too weird leaving this place without at least some pretense that I could get back in if I wanted to.

  Maybe I didn’t want to? The thought crossed my mind as I made my way downstairs and to the door of the club. I came to a standstill there for a moment, staring at the nondescript entrance to this place. He had left me here, as though I wasn’t worth anything to him. After what we did last night…my brain blurred that bit out. It was just too distracting to consider. But all I knew was that after everything we had done, he’d still left me to wake up alone while he sauntered off to do God knows what. This wasn’t exactly my world, and he’d still dumped me in it with him—I could have broken free of any other guy who’d tried to take me home that first night, fought my way out and reminded them all just who I was and who my father had been. But instead, I was hanging around Breaker for the promise that he was going to actually do something. He told me he wanted to bring this place down, but what if it was nothing more than a lie meant to make me look like an idiot? Maybe he was in there already, delighted recounting the details of how he’d got me to hang around of my own free will like a sucker. I clenched my fists at the thought. It was one thing for all of this to happen—the kidnapping, the auction, the sex—it was another to be made a fool of. A rush of anger rolled over me, and I pushed the door open before I could stop myself. We would see who looked more the idiot once I had him by the balls and got him to tell me the truth.

  The place was busy, considering how early it was. I peered around, squinting against the dank, smoky half–light, but I couldn’t see anyone I recognized, let alone Breaker. Making my way over to the bar, I leaned up on it and hoped that I could convince the bartender to give me something on credit. I needed a fucking drink, after all.

  “Rum and coke, please,” I spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth and he raised his eyebrows. “Put it on Breaker’s account.”

  “You sure about that?” He asked, and I could tell from his tone of voice that he was half–warning me off my little scheme. I nodded, making eye contact, and giving him a look that told him I would ask for his opinion when I wanted it and not a moment before. He rolled his eyes slightly, and poured me a drink. I took it gratefully and took a deep sip. Yeah, that would do it. I closed my eyes and let the alcohol slip down my throat, warming me lightly and letting me relax a little for the first time since I’d woken up in that cell. I shuddered at the thought. The memory of that was going to take a long time to shake, I could tell. I would need to pick this whole place apart at the seams before I could move on from that, needed to see those cells in ashes. Suddenly, I sensed a presence next to me, and turned around to find myself face–to–face with the auctioneer.

  “You look different,” he remarked, his eyes trailing up and down my body with interest. “Is this how Breaker likes you, then?”

  “These were the only clothes I could find,” I protested, trying to keep my voice light and playful. The last thing I needed now was for my cover to get blown. “I wanted a drink so I had to wear something to come down here.”

  “I don’t think many of the guys would have minded if you came down without anything,” he cocked an eyebrow, and I fought the urge to recoil away from him in disgust. What the hell gave these people the right to speak to me like this? Then I remembered where I was. As far as he was concerned, he was probably treating me with the utmost respect. I didn’t even want to think what he came out with to women who weren’t owned by someone he was friendly towards. I tossed my hair back out of my eyes, wishing for a moment that I had longer hair so that I could hide behind it. But now, this pixie cut of mine would have to do.

  “Well, they didn’t pay for me,” I pointed out, unable to believe that those words hard really just left my lips. And that they’d sounded so reasonable! This place was twisting me already, I could feel it.

  “I can’t imagine what the bidding would have gone up to if you’d been in on a bigger night,” he remarked, waving the barman over and holding one finger up. A few seconds later, the barman deposited a beer in front of him.

  “Yeah, me neither,” I replied through gritted teeth. I still hadn’t given up on the plan completely, so I didn’t want to alienate him, but it was a real and genuine struggle not to just break his nose where he stood to teach him a lesson about the way he spoke to him. And the way he treated them, too.

  “They told me you were a cop,” he leaned closer, closing the distance between us. His sticky, boozy breath filled my nostrils and I jerked back without thinking.

  “I am,” I nodded. As far as I was concerned the present tense was still applicable here.

  “You ever come across this place before?” He waved his hand around, and I caught a flash of nervousness in his eyes. That was all I needed to see, and without further ado, I went in for the kill.

  “Oh, yeah,” I shrugged, as though it should have been obvious. “I’ve seen a lot of faces before, you know, but on a most–wanted list. I don’t think they’re far from busting this place for good.”

  “You think?” The nervousness turned to full–blown panic, and I twisted the knife.

  “I don’t want to think what kind of jailtime everyone here would be looking at,” I shook my head. “Two decades, maybe more…”

  “For everyone?”

  “Everyone,” I confirmed, meeting his gaze steadily. “They take this kind of shit very seriously.”

  The auctioneer took a sip of his beer, and I could see that his was contemplating his options. I held my breath. Had I pushed it too far? I didn’t think so. I needed him scared, because I knew for sure that criminals had a habit of selling each other down the river when they were afraid for their own safety.

  “What…if someone cut a deal, what would happen then?” I had to stifle a laugh at how unsubtle he was being. Okay, play along, make this work to your advantage.

  “They might get some years shaved off their sentence,” I shrugged. “Maybe even the whole thing commuted down to probation, if they give up enough information.”

  I could see his brain ticking over, and I casually took another sip of my drink, as though I had no idea where he was going with this train of thought. I wanted him to think he had come to the idea all by himself. Guys like this had serious egos, and the last thing they wanted was for a woman to influence any of their life choices. By the time I put my glass back down and met his gaze once again, I could see that he had made his mind up. I had to suppress a smile as he spoke again.

  “I want a deal,” he leaned in close, glancing around the place as though he expected someone to be listening in to our conversation. “Can you do that for me?”

  “If you help me out of here,” I promised, trying to act surprised and probably failing. “You just have to stick on my side, right?”

  “Anything,” he nodded, running his finger around the rim of his drink. “Uh, how long do you think we have? Before the cops get here?”

  He shot a look towards the door, as if he could imagine a bunch of cops smashing it in and arresting everyone in the next ten seconds. God, he was making this too easy for me—all I had to do was let him fill in all the blanks in his head and I could get him terrified for his freedom in not time.

  “I don’t know exactly,” I admitted. “But it could be within the next few days. I would be on your guard.”


  “But you’ll get me a deal, won’t you?” He checked, a little hint of desperation in his voice. I nodded.

  “I promise,” I agreed, downing my drink and waving the barman over so I could get another. It seemed like the alcohol was making me that much smarter. Although, a stupid idea passed across my mind—but one I couldn’t resist taking myself up on. “On one condition,” I turned to him, and he furrowed his brow.

  “And what exactly—“

  Before he could get the sentence out, I had driven a closed fist into his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath, and gripped the bar for support. He looked back up at me, brow furrowed in horror.