Strike (Gentry Generations)

by Cora Brent

  “FUCK OFF!” I screamed when he only tightened his grip on Cassie as she tried to twist and flail away. Even though mere seconds had elapsed the struggle felt endless. I knew help could be found just around the corner but no way was I was going to leave my sister to the mercy of this animal for even a heartbeat. Since I wasn’t doing much damage with my imaginary martial arts skills I was about to resort to sinking my teeth into whatever hairy exposed flesh I could find. But before I had a chance the hallway was suddenly full of people.

  Men were shouting, strong arms pulled me away and I looked up in time to see a fist land square on the man’s jaw. The shock was enough for him to let go of Cassie, who stumbled against the wall. Another hearty punch sent our attacker on his ass with a mighty thud and the look on his face would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the gravity of the situation.

  “You son of a bitch,” growled a voice and I recognized Dalton as the one who’d belted the fat man into surrender. “Get the fuck up.”

  Cassie was in my arms now and I could feel her shaking, which infuriated me to the core. Dalton glanced over at us and then glared down at the big man who’d been reduced to a cowering blob. I thought Dalton was getting ready to top off the punches with a hearty kick but Griffin Sullivan got in front of him and eased him back. Dalton shook his friend off off but didn’t charge again.

  The fat man took the opportunity to climb to his feet while muttering something in another language. He was helped up by a man I remembered seeing in the club earlier, one of the suited associates who were guests of Griffin Sullivan. This man turned to us apologetically.

  “Ivan is very sorry,” he said in the same accent as his friend. “He thought you were someone else.”

  “Was he expecting someone who enjoys being assaulted?” I shouted as I held my sister.

  “Ivan is very sorry,” he repeated.

  Actually Ivan didn’t look remotely sorry. He was breathing hard as a bull and giving Dalton the evil eye. He glared in our direction once and then lumbered back to the room he’d come from.

  Dalton moved protectively in front of us. “You and your asshole friend better stay fucking put while I call the police.”

  The man looked unimpressed and didn’t budge while Griffin quickly got in the middle.

  “Everyone calm down a minute,” he said. “Nobody’s running off and calling the authorities.”

  A small crowd had gathered at the end of the hallway but Granite Face, the bouncer from the front door, was blocking their way. Griffin motioned for him to clear the crowd from the area and he starting herding people back to the club.

  “Don’t you think that’s up the them?” Dalton challenged, pointing to us.

  Griffin nodded, looking ashamed. “Of course.” He stepped over and placed a calm hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  Cassie was rubbing her wrist where Ivan had grabbed her. It was red and would probably show a bruise by tomorrow.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You’re not fine,” I argued.

  “Cami.” My sister looked at me with pleading eyes. “I just want to go.”

  “Of course,” Griffin said with kindness in his voice that didn’t fool me. He just wanted us out of here so he could smooth things over with his horrid buddies. “I can have a car take you home,” he offered while I looked at him incredulously.

  I wasn’t the only one. I noticed Dalton was staring at his friend with shock.

  “We can’t have this, Griff,” he said softly. “This isn’t okay under our watch. Not anywhere and certainly not in the club.”

  “Ah, but it isn’t really your club,” pointed out the man who’d come to Ivan’s defense. He was grinning but his words were poison. Dalton ignored him and kept his eyes on Griffin.

  “I’ll handle it, Dalton,” Griffin said confidently and I saw Dalton’s expression deepen with anger. I suddenly didn’t give a damn about any of these people though, not even Dalton. Their fucking club and their shady activities were on their conscience. I just wanted to get my sister out of here.

  “We’re leaving,” I said with ice in my voice. “You guys do whatever the hell you want.”

  Dalton caught up to us when we were outside waiting for the valet to bring my car around. He touched my arm. “Cami. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

  I didn’t want to be touched by him just now. “What for?” I said angrily. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He looked miserable as he raked a hand through his short black hair. “I still think we should call the police.”

  “Oh, I doubt it would do any good. From the looks of things your pal seems intent on protecting his business interests.”

  The valet arrived with the car and Cassie turned to Dalton. “Thanks for your help back there. It just happened so fast I couldn’t even react.”

  Dalton winced. “Don’t thank me for that. I’m just so sorry. And I’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again.”

  Cassie gave him a small smile and climbed into the passenger seat. I was less forgiving. I suspected I was being unfair, that Dalton really was grieved about what had happened, but I wasn’t in the mood to be generous.

  “How are you going to make sure of that?” I asked sarcastically. “After all, it’s not really your club, is it?”

  He shook his head. “Cami, I’ll do whatever I can to make it right.”

  I looked him straight in the eye and remembered what Cassie had said about seeing Debra getting cozy with some dude in a suit before they disappeared somewhere together. Then there was Ivan’s claim that he was expecting someone else.

  “I wonder,” I said, “just who that bastard thought we were.”

  Dalton’s face darkened but he didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t know the answer.

  Before I left him standing there at the curb and climbed into the driver’s side, I noticed that there was another party standing nearby. The man in the center was staring at me with frank curiosity and I wondered how much of the conversation he’d heard. As before, I recognized him immediately. He was Congressman Anders.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dalton

  “Fuck,” I swore as I watched the Gentry girls drive away.

  “Is there a problem?” asked Annabella, the hostess. She never missed an opportunity to touch me in some way and she didn’t miss one now.

  “No problem,” I told her and recoiled when her skinny fingers stroked my upper arm.

  “You sure, Boss?” she asked.

  I was going to snap at her to quit calling me ‘Boss’ and then decided not to bother. In the three months she’d been working for me I’d figured out that Annabella harbored a head full of boss-fucking fantasies. She was wasting her time. Someone around here was bound to be into those perky tits but I needed a personality to go with those virtues and Annabella was as personable as a spider.

  “You should get back to the door,” I said tersely and brushed off her grip as I stalked back into the club. No, this girl didn’t do a thing for me. The only girl in a long time who’d managed to spark my interest had just peeled out in her crappy Toyota.

  I couldn’t help but feel responsible for Cami and Cassie getting attacked by one of Griffin’s thuggish associates. I thanked the stars that I’d gotten a call about a kitchen emergency otherwise I wouldn’t have been anywhere near that hallway. I would have been back at the table sipping a fucking drink while awaiting a view of Cami Gentry waltzing back into the room in her sexy silver dress. When I thought about what might have happened if Griffin and I hadn’t been there I nearly vomited all over the bar.

  “You look like you need this,” said Clive, one of the bartenders, as a shot of whiskey landed in front of me. I didn’t often do shots but I swallowed it without hesitation.

  I felt someone land on the stool next to me and I sensed it was Griffin before he spoke.

  “Can I get one of those?” he asked Clive. When the shot arrived, his fingers touched the rim of the glas
s but he didn’t drink it.

  Griffin sighed. “They get out of here okay?”

  My anger was rising. “You mean quietly? Without causing you any headaches? Yeah, they did.”

  “Dalton.”

  “Are those fuckers still around? Did you send them a couple of the best bottles from the wine cellar to make up for the fact that assaulting women isn’t tolerated here?”

  His jaw hardened and he stood up. “Let’s go talk.”

  “Fuck you, buddy.”

  “I’m still the boss,” he growled in my ear.

  We were attracting some attention now. I noticed Clive pretending not to listen as he polished shot glasses and a couple at a nearby table glanced at us curiously.

  I stood up and let Griffin follow me to the back, past the rest rooms, beyond the kitchen and down the hallway called the VIP Mile where a half dozen well appointed rooms were available for the private use of important members and guests.

  I barged into the one Ivan the Asshole had scampered into after I flattened him earlier. It was empty now.

  Griffin closed the door behind him and regarded me soberly. “How about giving me a little fucking benefit of the doubt, Dalton?”

  “We should have called the police.”

  He shrugged. “The girl didn’t want to.”

  “Then you should have let me cripple the son of a bitch.”

  He looked amused. “I’ve known you for years, my friend. You haven’t got that kind of violence in you.”

  I thought of the terror-stricken face of Cassie Gentry. I thought of the way Cami screamed in rage and tried to beat Ivan off with every scrap of her strength. Griffin didn’t know me at all if he believed I wasn’t capable of doing permanent damage to that motherfucker.

  “Who are they?” I asked him.

  He didn’t flinch. “Investors. Like I already explained.”

  “Since when does Sullivan Enterprises require foreign investors to stay afloat?”

  Griffin sank on to the leather couch. “Your world is the club, Dalton. The pieces you’re responsible for fit together neatly. The big picture is a little harder to explain.”

  “I see. And your big picture includes some Russian mafia thugs.”

  Annoyance flashed across his face. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe not. But I do know that there are rumors. You’ve heard them. I know you have. So far I’ve opted to ignore them but if you’re asking me to ignore situations like tonight…well, old friend, you’re asking too fucking much.”

  There’d never been an honest conversation between us about some of the gossip that circulated about the club. I was sure it couldn’t be true, that there was nothing going on in my midst that was worse than the usual crooked politicians and business deals that might be under the table and unethical but certainly not illegal. There were no prostitution rings, no drug dealing, no political bribery.

  “I’m not asking that,” Griffin said. “Honest to god I feel like crap about what happened. My associates brought some shitty companions along but that was never part of any plan approved by me. You have my word that there’s nothing to worry about. Come on, don’t allow some drunk fucker to shake your faith.”

  I chewed on that. “I need to ask you now, not just as an employee, but as a friend. Is there anything going on around here that I need to know about?”

  He didn’t hesitate, didn’t even blink. “No.”

  Griffin’s answer didn’t make me relax much but I had no choice at the moment but to take him at his word.

  “I better get back out there,” I said. “Got a club to manage and the night’s not nearly over.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll slip the doorman a Benjamin as a thanks for dealing with crowd control.”

  “His name’s Fabio.”

  Griffin cracked up. “No shit?”

  I wasn’t in the mood to laugh with him. “Nope.”

  I was about to walk through the door when Griffin casually said, “I’ll talk to the Gentry girl tomorrow. Smooth things over.”

  My fist closed around the door handle. Griffin and I had been good friends for years. Mostly I thought he was a good guy. Yet there were sporadic moments when I wondered how well I knew him. This was one of those moments. I didn’t know if I was just being paranoid. But I did know that I didn’t want him near Cami.

  “Don’t,” I snapped. “I’ll talk to her.”

  He grinned. “She really turned your head, didn’t she? Can’t blame you. She looks like she’d be fun to play with.”

  I left the room without saying another word.

  Back in the club, the small stage was about to be occupied by the eleven o’clock show. The singer who was stepping up to the mic had been hired recently to work two nights a week, a local girl who toiled away in an insurance office all day and nursed dreams of being discovered by a major record label. She had a fantastic voice and crooned a selection of mournful ballads. I stood in the back and listened for a few minutes before Clive pulled me aside to talk about some supply issues behind the bar. My mind wasn’t really on liquor inventory so I told him to see the assistant manager, Luis, about placing an order.

  For the rest of the night I kept to myself, avoided Griffin and was unintentionally short with the staff whenever they approached me with a problem. When I turned the lights out for the night I felt a little bad about brushing off some of my employees. I prided myself on being a good boss who enjoyed an easy rapport with his staff.

  On the walk back to my suite I took the long way around the manmade lake and wished I didn’t live at this damn place. The arrangement that had always seemed convenient now struck me as fucking depressing. I’d moved here at a low point in my life and at the time I was content to shove my personal life aside. The end of my baseball career and the implosion of a struggling relationship had left me grateful for the club because I knew it would occupy most of my time. It was a lonely existence but that was what I wanted. Tonight it was no longer enough. Tonight I couldn’t stop thinking about Cami and how I’d been a conceited jackass when I invited her here tonight. I’d started believing in the legendary elite status of Aqua Room and I jumped at the chance to show it all off to her.

  “That’s right, baby, I run the hottest club in town. Does that blow your smartass mind enough to push that sexy dress up over your hips and let me fuck you like a beast?”

  I groaned out loud, partly because I was disgusted with myself and partly because I had an instant tent pole in my pants over the mind-fucking fantasy of Cami shedding her clothes and spreading her legs. The way I was feeling right now I could easily go ten rough rounds inside that tight little body. Damn, I’d just met this girl a few days ago and I didn’t know why the hell I wanted her so badly. I just did.

  There was a rustling in the brush to my left and I froze. Most of the desert creatures that crawled out of their holes at night were small and harmless but coyotes would sometimes attack in packs. Plus there’d been bobcat sightings out here in the last few weeks and one morning a stray tomcat was found bitten in half. What’s more, rattlesnakes were an ever present worry.

  I swiped a good sized rock off the ground and waited. The rustling intensified, then veered off toward the lake. Seconds later I heard a small splash. Fierce whispers followed but surely that was my imagination, prompted by a sudden gust of hot wind. The hour was after two a.m. There was no moon in the sky. No one would be running around at this time, especially not off the path in the unseen brush. More than likely some wild animal was doing a little nocturnal hunting.

  My fist closed around the rock just in case something with teeth came charging out of the darkness. Several minutes passed but there was nothing except the faint music of Sonoran desert toads. Eventually I started feel like a fool listening to nothing in the middle of the night and I walked the rest of the way back to my building.

  It was only when I reached the door to my room that I realized I was still holding onto the damn rock.r />
  CHAPTER NINE

  Camille

  Cassie snapped at me to quit hovering when I asked her for the fortieth time if she was okay.

  “I am not a crushed rose petal,” she grumbled and so I resolved to hold my tongue.

  We caught a small break at home because Cadence was the only one awake. My father had always possessed unusually keen insight where his daughters were concerned. He would have taken one look at us and known something had happened. Hearing the story would have distressed him. More than distressed him. He might have zoomed off into the night in search of Ivan.

  However, Cadence turned out to be a nuisance herself, trailing after us and bubbling over with questions about the stupid Aqua Room. When she sat on my bed and refused to budge I relented and gave her a quick summary. When I got to the part that included Ivan her face reddened and she slammed her fist into an open palm.

  “I should have been there,” she blurted. “I would have kicked their fucking asses.”

  Cassie smiled at our tempestuous seventeen-year-old sister. “Cami did a fine job of that.”

  I scowled. “Not true. My fists bothered him about as much as the wings of a fruit fly.”

  “Then we should be grateful for Dalton,” Cassie pointed out.

  “Dalton? Who’s Dalton?” Cadence wanted to know.

  I shimmied out of Cassie’s dress and pulled a soft San Diego University t-shirt over my head. “Dalton’s nobody.”

  Cadence didn’t buy it. “I bet Dalton’s the reason for the smoking makeover.”

  “You might win that bet,” Cassie said sweetly. “But right now get out of our room and go to bed.”

  “And don’t mention this story to Mom and Dad,” I added.

  My little sister gave me a withering look. “Seriously? You think you need to tell me that?”

  “It wasn’t Dalton’s fault, you know,” Cassie pointed out after she’d pushed Cadence out of the room and closed the door.

  I didn’t answer. I just rolled over, faced the wall and waited for sleep. I knew that tonight’s sour turn of events hadn’t been Dalton’s fault. That was why my subconscious felt free to compose erotic dreams about him all night long.