Shree pulled free from his grasp. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ve been doing this a long time. Thank you, though.” She strode toward the door.
As if he’d let her get away that easily.
“See you tomorrow.” She waved over her shoulder.
“Gavin…” Charlie began.
Without pause, he hurried after the tantalizing hips swaying and maneuvering around the crowd. Men and women called out how amazing she’d been tonight. Shree nodded and waved as she marched by them all.
He liked an independent woman, but she needed to understand he wasn’t kidding about her not going anywhere alone. Especially after placing a call to his buddy at the FBI to learn more about this Hagen fellow. What he’d learned from Frank Shaw didn’t impress him.
Hagen was one of the bureau’s most wanted criminals. Nothing stuck to this guy. Every open and shut case dissolved quickly, no matter how much evidence was against him. Witnesses changed their minds or went missing, and drug dealers were willing to serve life to keep mum about who their supplier was.
It was only a matter of time before Hagen brought down the hammer on Charlie’s club. The FBI now knew of Gavin’s appearance at the club and was willing to work with him to bring Hagen in. Whatever it took. Frank was coming to town as soon as he could arrange it.
He pushed through the side door and followed her out into the warm evening air. “Shree, wait.”
She stopped at the bottom of the enclosed stairwell and turned swiftly, her legs locked in a fighting stance.
Surprised, he also couldn’t help but admire her. She’d been trained to protect herself. Smart woman.
“I’m just upstairs, Gavin. Really, I’ll be fine.”
He moved closer and leaned against the wall. “Not your choice. You’re stuck with me.”
She harrumphed. “Don’t you think your girlfriend will get annoyed with you following me around all the time?”
Gavin grinned. So she’d given his relationship status some thought. Nice. “Girlfriend?”
She shifted and grabbed the railing. “Charlie’s my boss. I understand she’s trying to protect me, but to have her boyfriend follow me around at all hours of the day and night…” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t like it much if my boyfriend was in the company of another woman so much.”
“That’s a good point, but not relevant. And Charlie knows I’ll be all over you twenty-four-seven if I need to. She’s okay with that.”
Shree’s eyes widened. “If you have an open relationship with her, that’s your business, but don’t drag me into any sick games. Goodnight.”
As she turned and ascended the stairs, he grabbed her wrist. “Hey, come on. Wait.” She turned her head and glared at him. “Charlie and I are friends. We’re not in a relationship. Her brother is one of my oldest friends.”
Her arm relaxed in his hold. Gavin took it as a good sign that she was attracted to him and moved up onto the first step. Standing on the fourth plank, she towered over him, but it put him at perfect eye level with her tits. He fought the need to ogle at them.
Smoky black abysses stared at him, and his gaze clung to hers. Seconds rolled by. His gut clenched and his blood heated. She drew him in—the loneliness he saw behind those eyes, the air of solitude, had him eager to know more. He rarely cared about the many layers of a woman, but he anticipated there was a lot to Shree. She intrigued him.
Hell, he barely knew her. Yet, very little seemed as important as getting to know what made her tick. What made her laugh, get up in the mornings, and even what could piss her off. And he definitely wanted to know what made her hot and wet.
Her pulse beat fast beneath his thumb. His own accelerated as she shifted to face him and descended a step. Her breath quickened in the silence around them.
“Shree,” he whispered. He caressed her elbow as he advanced another step, bringing them eye-to-eye.
She swallowed hard, nostrils flaring. Gavin tightened his hold on her wrist. Her breath hitched and she swayed as he moved in closer. He acted fast and gripped her hips.
Her hands wandered up onto his shoulders, bringing her in closer. Shree’s head dipped toward him slowly and Gavin tightened his fingers on her skin, anxious to pull her in even more, but he held back to let her make the first move.
A door slammed behind them, the boom cutting through the air. He jerked and glanced to his right at a couple walking to their car.
He turned back to her as she scurried up a step away from him. “No. No, this can’t happen. Goodnight, Gavin,” she stated, then turned and fled up the remaining steps.
Gavin held onto the railing and cursed whoever interrupted the moment. Maybe it was for the best. Getting involved with the woman he was hired to protect was all kinds of wrong. To think of it as anything other than a job would be stupid.
He’d bet money Shree was the type of woman who wouldn’t get involved with any man who couldn’t make promises.
For the first time, a fleeting wish to be more than a one-night-stand circled Gavin’s mind.
****
When the doors eased open to the fifth floor, Gavin stalked off the elevator. He’d awakened early this morning for the seven a.m. meeting with Hagen.
Finally, he would meet the bastard face-to-face, size him up, and let Hagen know the club was off limits to him and his goons. Gavin would do whatever it took to ensure his best friend’s sister was taken care of. Shree, too.
He rolled his shoulders and pushed her from his thoughts, trying to focus on the moment at hand. She was a distraction he didn’t need right now, a temptation he had to avoid to do the job he was here to do and move on. To what, he had no idea. Private consulting for the Army and sitting behind a desk every day held little appeal.
Frustrated with having no answers about his future, he took a left and strode down the well-lit hallway of Hagen’s building, concentrating on each step and his surroundings. Walls painted shit-brown were covered with different pictures of the mob boss, a different half-dressed woman on his lap in every one. The pompous ass was very full of himself. The king of his own empty castle really. Gavin had met many men like him over the years—the type who preyed on those weaker and smaller than themselves. Like schoolyard bullies starved of attention, or they had deep issues even the highest trained psychiatrists couldn’t fix.
Bulky Number One and Two stood before double-wide glass doors. He held back a grin at the image they made. Large and burly, dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, and black t-shirts. Their shaggy and greasy hair hung lifelessly. They looked a bit like many men did, but each had crooked noses, long jawlines, and unkempt uni-brows.
If their size wasn’t something to consider as dangerous, Gavin wouldn’t have given them much thought. They’d be solid objects to battle against. His fists clenched in anticipation. He’d enjoy knocking one, both preferably, down a peg or two. It wasn’t his favorite option, considering his leg was still healing, but he’d do what needed to be done if he had to.
“Boys, so great to see you again.” Gavin held the gaze of Bulky Number One, jaw clenched and feet planted.
Silent, Bulky Number Two side-stepped and opened the door. Gavin’s eyes never wavered from the other man as he crossed the threshold into blinding light. Squinting, he fought against the glare and focused his sight. If this was what Heaven might look like, Gavin would take a pass.
Gold filled the room, every wall adorned with gold-plated frames and souvenirs from several different locations. Even the carpet was a puke-yellow color that should be burned just for existing.
The large brass desk sitting in front of the big, open bay windows matched the rest of the furniture in the room. Gavin was far from an interior decorator, but whoever did the man’s office needed to be shot and buried for their crime.
“Ahh, Mr. Bennett. Welcome. Come in. Fix yourself a plate, if you wish.”
The nasally and whiny voice took him by surprise. On the defensive, he locked his knees and swung to the left, his jaw dro
pping at the buffet before him.
Food covered every surface of an oval table. Crepes, waffles, fruits, yogurts…and sweet Jesus, chocolate donuts. His mouth watered, but he maintained his composure. He wasn’t here to make nice with scum.
His gaze swept over the small man dishing up goodies onto his plate. Good God in Heaven. Pink loafers? What guy in their right frickin’ mind wore those? Gray slacks, belt—pink yet again—and a light blue dress shirt covered the skinny runt before him. Gavin pegged his weight about a buck-thirty—and that was being generous.
The man smirked over his shoulder. “Come now, don’t be shy.”
This was definitely not Carter Hagen. Thankfully, the pictures he’d passed in the hallway had shown the face of the man he was up against, or Gavin would have laughed his ass off all the way back to the club. The dude about to eat a feast wouldn’t be much of a match for him.
But if he wasn’t Hagen, then where was the son-of-a-bitch?
“No thanks. I’m supposed to meet with Hagen. Where is he?”
The man shoveled a strawberry into his mouth, crossed to the desk, and sat. He waved Gavin forward with his fork and toward a tall stool in front of the desk.
Hagen must not want his visitors to be comfortable. Then again, it made sense. The sadist he’d heard about would want people as uncomfortable and miserable as possible.
He took the necessary steps to sit on the awkward piece of furniture.
“Mr. Hagen had to be elsewhere. I’m Parker Kelsey, his right hand.” He laughed, then shoveled more food into his mouth.
Eggs and hash browns dropped on the guy’s chest. The asshole needed a napkin. He was in no way the type of guy Gavin liked. Smarmy, slick, another guy on Hagen’s crew who didn’t buy shampoo, and gold rings covered both his hands. Kelsey was all forms of creepy, from head to toe, and Gavin has an inkling he batted for both teams—with willing participants or not.
He’d learned to read people over the many years in the service, and before that living on the street more than anywhere else. The shrewd and skilled individuals who would do anything to get out one day were easy to read. Even better and more clear were the snakes on the streets who took advantage of other people’s loss and need. They preyed on the lonely and down-trodden who didn’t have anywhere else to go and were desperate enough to do anything for a quick buck or food to eat.
Gavin knew the type well. He’d been approached a time or two when in his teens and filling out. More times than he cared to remember, he’d been groped, fondled, and propositioned. And each time, the man’s hands were broken, he was beaten within an inch of his life, and hopefully unable to harm others again.
Parker Kelsey was exactly the type of scum he’d love to strangle with his bare hands, but for now, he’d size up Hagen, and maybe get a clear impression of what he was up to besides wanting to own the hottest club in the area.
“What the hell am I doing here then if your boss isn’t? I came to see him, not a lackey.”
Kelsey stopped chewing, his gaze narrowing. Gavin didn’t waver from the stare-down as Kelsey tried to show the little dominance he had. Gavin could sit here all day and never blink. It took stronger men than this maybe five-foot imp to intimidate him.
Laying his fork aside, Kelsey finished chewing and swallowed. He sat back in the chair, fingers folded together over his middle. “The boys said you liked to talk big. Now, Gavin, if you don’t mind that I call you that, here’s how things are going to happen, per Mr. Hagen, of course.” He held up one finger. “First, you’re not to interfere in any of the boys’…business at the club.” He tapped a second finger. “Second, you’re to convince that bitch owner to sell to Mr. Hagen. She has the contract and price he’s willing to pay already.” A third finger went up. “You are to leave town the moment the paperwork is signed.” With a self-satisfied smile, Kelsey picked up his fork and continued eating.
Gavin’s blood boiled. His nostrils flared and he was pretty sure the temperature in the room rose a good forty degrees. The little puke expected him to do his bidding?
Hell would freeze over before he’d cow-tow in compliance to this little prick, or his bigger dick of a boss.
He stood and leaned over the desk. Kelsey’s cheeks paled. Inches away from the other man’s face, he snarled, “Listen here, you little shit.” He held up his fist, pleased when Kelsey flinched. He extended his middle finger. “You tell your boss this is what I think of his rules, and of him.” Gavin sat back in his stool. “Now we’re going to go over my rules, so listen carefully. Tell your boss that his days of even walking into the Vixen are fucking over. He’s never to cross the doorstep again.” His index finger went up. “There will be no selling or buying, no more of his business going on there either.” He drew in a deep breath, nearly smiling as crushed up food fell from Kelsey’s mouth. A third finger went up. “Stay the fuck away from the owner and any of the dancers. Keep those goons outside away from it, too. I have friends in high places. Men I know would be here in minutes the moment I asked. Trained snipers, combat fighting heroes who would take one look at you and crush you with a bare fist. Neither you, nor your boss, would see any of them coming either. Like me, they’re all stealth and skilled soldiers, men ready to lay their lives down for another.”
He straightened and picked up the little man’s plate, still half-full of syrup, grapes, and waffles. Tilting his hand, the food fell off the plate and into Kelsey’s lap. Kelsey let out a girlish screech and leapt up.
Tossing the now-empty plate into Kelsey’s lap, Gavin rubbed his palms together. “Be sure to tell your boss everything I just said. He comes into the Vixen or talks to Charlotte at all, there will be hell to pay. I can promise you that.”
Turning, Gavin marched back the way he’d come in and yanked open the door. He didn’t bother glancing at the bulky forms standing against the walls. He’d made his point, no sense beating a dead horse. At the elevator, he punched the down button, keeping his body angled toward Hagen’s office in case his goons headed his way.
There was no way he’d allow anyone to run him out of town. He didn’t give up so easily.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and dread washed over him. He wanted—no, needed—to get back to the club. He’d been in the field enough in his career to trust his gut. And at the moment, with how smug and gleeful Kelsey had been, he was certain he’d been played.
He stepped onto the elevator and rubbed at the soreness in his leg before resting against the wall. Foreboding shards of doubt washed over him. He would need to stay on the property from now on.
Hagen wouldn’t heed his warnings at all. Oh sure, Gavin could hope for it, but he’d given up on relying on faith a long time ago.
Chapter Three
Gavin jerked open the door of his Dodge Challenger, gaze narrowing on the long black Cadillac leaving Vixen’s parking lot. His instinct was correct…he’d been played by Hagen.
Get him out of the club while the boss man descended. Son-of-a-frickin’-bitch.
A slow, hobbling jog had him across the lot. He yanked the door open and adjusted his sight to the dim lighting. He swept the room corner to corner, looking for any intruders and finding none. He strode toward the side doorway that led to Charlie’s office.
He knocked once then pushed the door open. His gut clenched when he saw her with her hands folded on top of the desk and her head down. Tension was thick in the air. He drew in a deep breath and prepared for bad news.
“Hey, little one.” He spoke soft, not wanting to alarm her, and sat in the chair across from her. He leaned his forearms on the wooden desk.
“The dirty, rotten bastard, Gav,” she murmured.
“What’s going on?”
She lifted her head, flipping her blonde ponytail back. Her blue eyes blazed fire. Good. He wanted her fighting mad along with him. He needed her to be willing to do whatever it took to save her livelihood, and allow him the freedom to fight with no holds barred. It was all men like Hagen unders
tood—bullying, conquering, and power.
Gavin wouldn’t allow her to stand alone in this. He’d wanted to head to his temporary quarters and call Frank, find out what time he’d arrive tomorrow, and hoped they could strategize a plan before Hagen could prepare for a fight. Gavin wanted to strike off the head of the snake before he truly expected it.
“He came here, with the local police captain flanking him, and informed me that the alcohol distributor I use was picked up this morning for drug possession. Hagen wanted to offer me his supplier, to make things easier on me.” Gavin opened his mouth to respond, but Charlie shoved her chair back, causing it to hit the wall with a bang as she stood. “Does he think I’m so stupid that I would ever allow any of his products in here, or his help?” Her hands cut through the air with each word. “As if I’d ever be indebted to him or give him an in to walk all over me and take over. Not in this fucking lifetime. And that no-good weasel of a cop…” A high screech of clear frustration escaped her throat. “I could kill them both with my bare hands.”
Observing her pace back and forth, her fists opening and closing, Gavin had to hold back his smile. He was pleased she was ready to fight, but he wished this wasn’t happening to her. She was a simple—and feisty—woman trying to make a living. No one deserved bastards like Hagen making trouble.
He stood. “Listen, I’m going to make some calls.” The best thing he could do for her was make a few arrangements, get things situated. “I should have known Hagen would show up here.”
She stilled then laid her palms on the desk. “Shit, he lured you out of here on purpose.”
Gavin nodded. “Bastard wants to bide his time before coming at me face-to-face. He doesn’t realize the fight he’s in for. That much is obvious.”
“Are you sure your contacts can help us with this? I mean, and I don’t mean offense, but you’re an injured military man. Can you handle this?”
Grabbing the back of the chair beside him, he shifted on his sore leg and met her gaze. He understood her concerns. Hell, he’d second-guessed his decision to come here as well. But he was here now and had the contacts to put Hagen out of business for good.
Guarding Midnight Page 3
