Depravity (The Captive Series Book 2)

by Penelope Marshall

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” I murmured as I headed for the front door.

  Ty

  Scared, I laid my cheek on his chest. “What’s going on, Mace?”

  “Matiglio was on his way up with a rifle,” he said as he quickly made his way down the stairs, jostling our bodies together as he moved.

  “How did you know to be here?”

  “Larry hired BlaX to keep an eye on him ’cause he’s being extorted. But I wasn’t prepared for Matiglio. That fuck shot at my head,”

  I nipped at my thumb. “Are you sure it was Matty and not some wise guy who looked like him?”

  “Matty? What, you’re on a nickname basis with the mob?” he asked as he pressed his back against the glass door leading out of the building.

  I looked at Larry, who had been waiting nervously at the bottom of the stairs. “I can walk from here—I’m fine,” I whispered.

  “Okay, keep up.” He set me down and pulled his gun out from his leg holster. “Let’s go; my car is over here.”

  He led us around the corner to his black Mustang; its right front wheel parked halfway on the curb.

  “Get in the back, Ty,” Mace yelled as he slipped into the driver seat.

  I grasped onto the car door handle, flung it open, and jumped in the back, followed by Larry, who sat in the front passenger seat.

  CHAMPIONS STRIP CLUB

  Mace

  “Blain, I killed Matiglio,” I informed him over the speaker phone as I screeched away from the building.

  Larry yelled, “Yeah, where is my protection?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Larry!” Blain yelled. “Mace, what happened?”

  “It was an ordered hit. They wouldn’t send a lieutenant to take care of some little extortion bullshit—you know this goes deeper than what Larry told you,” I warned.

  “Hey, I didn’t lie. They wanted money,” Larry replied as he frantically looked out the passenger window, adjusting his gold chain.

  “Mace, take me off speaker,” Blain ordered.

  I picked up the phone and clicked him off speaker. “Boss, how would they know to shoot at me first? There’s no way Matiglio knew I was watching Larry. There has to be a mole.”

  “Take Larry to the club, I’m headed there now,” Blain said as he hung up the phone.

  I threw the phone into the middle console and pressed on the gas. The speedometer read sixty mph, then eighty, as I sped down the residential neighborhood taking a shortcut to the club. The wind whipped through the bullet hole in the windshield, creating a slight whistling sound as I drove. Larry sat back in his seat and clutched the handle of the door tightly, his eyes widening as I whipped around a corner, causing the rear of the car to skid off to the side.

  “Geez, man, slow down, there’s an old lady in the street,” Larry said in a tight voice.

  “Sure!” I smiled as I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a complete stop.

  My bumper slightly tapped the grocery cart the old woman had stolen from the store to carry her groceries home. Larry’s face flew forward, but a flash of Blain’s angry face when I showed up with a dead Larry caused my arm to jut out and grab the back of his shirt before his face could make impact with the windshield.

  “I guess I have to keep you alive until we get to Blain,” I said calmly.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed.

  I yanked on his shirt. “You’re what the fuck is wrong with me.”

  The old woman smacked the hood of my car then flipped me off as she continued across the street. I glanced back over my shoulder to Ty to make sure she hadn’t been hurt in the abrupt stop. I caught her wearing an impish smile as she watched the whole scene unfold. Our eyes locked for just a moment before she looked out her window.

  This woman was getting under my skin, but not in a bad way. There was something about the way she looked at me—like she didn’t want or need anything—not that I would ever offer.

  I don’t think I have ever seen a woman look at me that way. I was used to a very different type of woman, and I was happy with that type. I knew what they wanted and vice versa, and even though at first glance I thought Ty fit that profile, I was starting to realize there was a little more hidden underneath her sexy exterior.

  I shook my head to get rid of her slight distraction and turned back to the street, jamming my foot onto the gas pedal and screeching off as I headed straight for the club to meet with Blain.

  Ty

  I haven’t seen a man drive like that in a long time, and the hard time he was giving Larry pleased me to no end. I hated Larry and the way he thought he could have me whenever and however he wanted. He thought he was the man whenever I faked an orgasm—like his little stick could do anything for me. But I guess it was better than my last life. Come to think of it—it was pretty much the same. I don’t even know why I cared anymore. I was tired of this body. A body that’s brought me nothing but fucking trouble.

  I looked back out the window as we drove the familiar streets toward the strip club.

  A strip club? Why didn’t they just call it what it was—a whore house? A fucking whore house. A rose by any other name, or however that bullshit saying goes.

  I bit what was left of my thumbnail. It was a nervous habit, and I seemed to be nervous a lot lately. I didn’t know what would be waiting for us at Champions. Probably a bullet with my name on it.

  Well, at least that’s what I hoped. One to the temple. Quick and easy. I wondered if Mace even knew what he had gotten himself into by killing Matiglio. I’m sure Blain knew. Blain knew a lot of shit. He told me every time he laid me over the rusty metal desk in Larry’s office.

  Shifting my gaze from the window and over to his neck, I noted the normal tempo of a pulsating carotid.

  No, he looked too calm to know the wrath he had just brought on himself.

  Mace

  The large white building at the end of the street was my target. Row after row of tinted black Suburbans filled with ex-SEALs were parked in the Champions Club lot waiting for me to deliver Larry alive. I pulled into the lot and parked next to Blain’s SUV.

  Larry jumped out first. “You crazy fuck!” he yelled.

  “Keep it down, Larry, we don’t need a scene,” Blain said calmly as he stepped out of the Suburban dressed in a dark blue suit and a white collared shirt with no tie. His shaggy salt n’ pepper hair blew in the breeze as he walked over to the driver side of my car.

  I stepped out and stood in front of the back passenger window with my arms crossed, shielding Ty from Blain.

  Blain looked through the sliver of glass left in between the frame of the door and my waist. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  “If Matiglio’s men raided that apartment…” I shook my head as my words trailed off.

  Blain looked angrier than normal as he kept peering into the car. “She’s not our concern—you should have left her.”

  “I made her my concern. I’m still fuckin’ human, Blain,” I said with a twinge of irritation at how glib he was about another human being. “It’s not all about money. I don’t want the fuckin’ karma.”

  “That ship sailed a long time ago, Mace. You and me—we got a one-way ticket.” He started to walk away then doubled back, jabbing his finger into my chest. “You know my rule. Cut her loose or get the fuck off my team,” Blain said as he walked over to Larry and shook his hand.

  Larry shot me a death glare before reaching out to shake Blain’s hand. “You know that’s one crazy fucker you got workin’ for you.”

  “Yeah, but that’s what makes him the best,” Blain said with a smile as he glanced back over in my direction.

  The two walked to the front of the club with the entire BlaX team in tow. I stayed behind to coax Ty out from the backseat.

  I opened her door and leaned in. “Are you gonna wanna join us?”

  “What’s the point? I’m dead in there, and I’m dead out here. Might as well make it easy for them,” she
replied, looking out the opposite window.

  “For who?”

  “For whoever is coming to finish Matiglio’s job,” she replied softly.

  “Why are you acting like such a fuckin’ baby? This is the life you chose. You know the dangers of fuckin’ around with guys like these,” I said condescendingly.

  She slowly turned her head to me. “Life I chose?” she echoed.

  “You heard me. No one is holding your ass here.”

  “You don’t know shit about me or why I stay,” she said as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  “Stop with the water works,” I said, rather annoyed she was trying to cajole an ounce of sympathy for me.

  I wasn’t gonna fall for it. Blain’s rule was screaming for me to pull this woman out of my car and leave her on the pavement. She was already becoming a distraction, and I felt it.

  “Go then!” she yelled, shooing me away with her hand as she turned back to the window.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the fuck out of my car!” I yelled.

  I was actually being nice to her, and she wanted to act like I was the one who had been treating her like shit.

  “Fuck you, Mace.”

  Infuriated, I reached in and snatched her arm. I yanked her out and pushed her against the side of the car. “You’re not gonna talk to me like that again, little girl!”

  “I’ll talk to you any way I please,” she shouted, an inch away from my face.

  “Fuck, you piss me off!” I slammed the door shut and walked into the dark warehouse-like building, where the smell of old alcohol and sex hit me like a wall of bricks the moment I stepped through the door.

  Ty

  What the fuck is wrong with this guy? Do I look like I need saving?

  Well, I guess I did. But I didn’t need his saving. Men. Always wanting to save me, but they were the fucking reason I needed to be saved in the first place. I adjusted my skirt as another tear or two rolled down my flushed cheeks.

  “God—if you’re there—I need a miracle. A free miracle. A miracle I don’t have to promise I’ll change for—I think you call it grace. I need that, Lord,” I prayed out loud as I took in a deep breath and walked to the entrance.

  Mace

  Behind me, I heard the doorknob twist and a sliver of light beam over the concrete floor. Ty brushed passed me as she zipped toward the back dressing room. I watched her as she walked into the darkness, the sway of her hips, the grace in which she walked on a pair of stiletto heels, and the sexy way her matted black fake fur vest hung off of one of her thin shoulders.

  She reminded me of Alexa so much; which is why I needed to get her out of my head. Blain whistled, knocking me out of my trance, beckoning me over to the bar where all the guys were sitting and drinking.

  “So, what is your assessment of the situation, Mace?” Blain asked as he stood behind the bar with his hands pressed firmly onto the wood grained countertop while all the other guys poured themselves a shot of tequila.

  “Have a seat, partner,” Joe, a middle-aged former SEAL and second in command to Blain, said as he slid a barstool across the floor to me, which I stopped dead in its tracks with my boot.

  “I think Larry fucked up and didn’t tell you everything before you made that deal,” I said as I sat on the stool.

  “I did tell you fucks everything,” Larry yelled.

  Blain gritted his teeth as he shook his head. “Larry, Larry, Larry. I’m gonna need you to stop talkin’ to my team like that before I have to put a bullet in between your beady little eyes.”

  Like the little bitch he was, Larry started to cry. “No, Blain. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. They’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

  Blain slammed his open hand onto the countertop. “Shut the fuck up, muthafucker! Cryin’ like a little pussy!” he yelled as he downed a shot.

  The whole team turned their heads over to Larry’s direction, waiting for him to say something. There was no way he was a match for Blain, and we knew he was about to crack like an egg.

  “Ty is Fire’s daughter!” Larry blurted out.

  The team turned back to Blain―he looked like he had seen a ghost. His lips parted after a few tense, silent moments. “So you’re telling me that you stole Fire’s daughter and turned her out?” he said in a tight voice.

  Ariel Peruzzi was the Mob boss in town. They nicknamed him Fire based on his method of preferred execution. A psychotic arsonist at heart, Fire would set ablaze anyone who crossed him—while they were still alive.

  “I didn’t steal her! I bought her from—”

  Blain quickly interrupted, “Shut the fuck up, Larry!”

  Larry was startled by Blain’s interjection and looked down at his lap.

  “What the fuck are we gonna do, boss? If Mace killed Matiglio because he was coming to rescue Ty, then we’re in the wrong!” Joe said in his thick Jersey accent as he threw back a shot.

  “It ain’t that bad. I’ll call Fire—explain what happened,” Blain said calmly.

  Why was Blain so calm about this whole thing? After all, it was Fire we were talking about here.

  “And what about me, Blain?” Larry asked, sobbing, and rightfully so since he fucked with the wrong person this time.

  “Our deal is off. You’re a fuckin’ rat, and I would rather go up against the fuckin’ Taliban than Fire. He has eyes every-fuckin’-where and I would love to be able to sleep with both eyes closed,” Blain explained as he poured himself another shot.

  “So, what do we do about the girl?” I asked.

  “Give her back to Fire, of course. That’ll be our peace offering,” Blain said as he gulped down another shot and slammed the glass onto the countertop. “Let’s just pray he forgives you for killing Matiglio.”

  “What the fuck, Blain? You gotta protect me,” Larry begged.

  Blain lunged over the counter within an inch of Larry’s face. “Look here, you little pussy ass of a man. I ain’t gotta do shit but eat, sleep, and die. You dug your grave when you bought that man’s daughter—now fuckin’ lie in it,” Blain said as he motioned to the team to follow him. “Mace, grab the girl and meet us at Fire’s.”

  “But, Blain—” Larry cried.

  Blain whipped around. “Not another fuckin’ word, Larry—not another fuckin’ word you hear me? Or I’ll do Fire a favor and slit your throat myself.”

  I kicked the stool out from underneath me and headed to the back room as the rest of the team headed out the door, leaving Larry sobbing at the bar to contemplate his ill-fated future. The hallway was dark, making it hard to see where the door to the back room was located.

  “Ty! We gotta go,” I yelled.

  She didn’t reply.

  “Ty!” I yelled again as I pulled my gun from my leg holster and cocked it.

  Pointing the gun down the hall, I slowly made my way, listening for even the slightest commotion. My eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, making it easier to find the door which had a small rectangular metal sign hanging at eye level. On it was engraved the words: Ladies Only.

  This must be the door.

  I inhaled a deep breath and lifted my right leg into the air, kicking the door open. I lunged in with my gun, panning the room to see a small lamp lying on the floor next to Ty’s bound and gagged body.

  “What the fuck is going…” my words trailed off as I saw her eyes zooming to the corner of the room behind the door I was standing next to.

  Before I could turn to my left to investigate, the hard wooden door slammed into my left arm, knocking the gun from my hands. It fired the moment it hit the floor, eliciting a loud squeal from Ty. A large imposing body jumped onto my back, causing me to fall to the ground.

  Twisting about to get out from under the monster’s clutches, I was able to jab him in the eyes, momentarily blinding him as I regained my senses and scrambled to my feet. I crouched down, lowering my center of gravity, and readied my hands to deflect the onslaught of inevitable punches.

  Foregoin
g any formal training, the gorilla of a man lunged at me but missed as I leaped out of the way. He dove head first into the drywall, creating a melon-sized hole next to the water cooler. His arms dangled at his side as he fell unconscious on the floor.

  I admit, I was caught a little off guard by his ability to knock himself out without any assistance from me.

  I kicked my boot into his back to make sure he was out before I turned my back to free Ty from her restraints.

  The duct tape from her mouth came off first. “Are you okay?”

  “No, you shot me in the leg, you son of a bitch.”

  “The gun shot you. I was busy trying to save your life. Fuck, aren’t you ever satisfied?” I asked in a taut voice. “You got lucky—it’s just a graze.”

  Her eyes closed and her mouth twisted as I jostled her leg about in order to get the restraints freed from behind her.

  “You’re taking the pain like a champ. I’ll get you to Fire’s, and he can take care of you there,” I encouraged her, grabbing an old shirt lying across the chair to wipe the blood from her leg.

  “No!” she screamed.

  “What the fuck? We know he’s your dad. You should be happy,” I said, removing the last piece of the rope off of her.

  She sat up and rubbed her raw wrists. “Happy for what?”

  “To see your dad,” I said, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the table to pour onto her leg to disinfect the wound.

  “Fuck, you son of a bitch, that fucking hurt!” she bellowed as she punched me in the arm.

  “I’m trying to fuckin’ help your ungrateful ass.”

  “Don’t touch me,” she said, glaring at me as she slapped away my hand.

  “Hey, what the fuck is your problem with me? I have been nothing but nice to you,” I asked angrily.