Dancing With Redemption (Barre To Bar Book 5)

by Summer Cooper

  “You knew my mother?” Roxie asked, surprised at this. She blinked in confusion, her blue eyes on the woman who moved almost like a snake, a very deadly snake. The woman’s eyes locked onto Roxie, and if a tiny black tongue had darted out of her thin face, it wouldn’t have surprised Roxie one bit.

  “I did, briefly, yes. She wasn’t very interesting, and she had no idea who I was at the time, but no matter.” The woman’s hands, encased in black leather gloves, waved slightly as she looked around the room. “Clarence, can you bring a chair in for me, please?”

  The man with the extremely scary eyes came in, a kitchen chair in his hands. His eyes were as dead as they always were, but even his lips were turned down now, in a frown or a smirk, Roxie couldn’t tell which. That made him scarier, whichever expression it was. That was the face of a killer. And she watched serial killer documentaries, she’d seen a few killers.

  “Aren’t you even a little afraid?” The woman interrupted Roxie as she kept track of the stinky guy. He still smelled of unwashed body and far too much cheap cologne, Roxie found out when he put the chair just out of her reach but close enough for her to smell him. Only, the cologne seemed to be even stronger now. Had he put more on because it was later in the day or because he was meeting the woman who must be his boss?

  Roxie couldn’t imagine there were many women who could order the big guy around like that, so this strange woman must be his boss. Then Roxie remembered the woman had asked a question. “That depends. Did you have something to do with my mother’s death?”

  Roxie looked the woman in the eye, hoping her face was blank because, of course, she was scared shitless, but she didn’t want this woman to know that. This woman looked like she ate fear for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Letting her know Roxie was afraid would only feed that slithering snake that lived inside of her. Roxie didn’t want to do that, so she put on a brave front.

  The woman smiled as if reading Roxie’s mind, even nodding when Roxie lifted her chin in defiance. “I see. You’ve decided to be brave. You’ll need that bravery later. For now, let’s talk.”

  “About what?” Roxie asked, worrying now that the woman could read her thoughts. Or maybe she was just good at reading expressions, people, Roxie hoped.

  “About your parents, my dear. After all, it was your father who started all of this, you see?” The woman held her hands out, indicating the room and Roxie. “If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be here and I would be, well, somewhere, someone else.”

  “I don’t understand,” Roxie sputtered, not sure how to answer such a confusing statement. “If my dad had something to do with your circumstances in life, that’s not my fault. And, I have to say, you don’t seem like you’re in such a bad place, right now, compared to me.”

  “Ah,” the woman said with a faint laugh, “a comedienne, are we?”

  “No, I’m just stating the obvious.” Roxie looked at the woman doubtfully, wondering if antagonizing her was a good idea, but she instinctively fell back on her skills as an exotic dancer, the skills she’d developed over the years dealing with handymen who thought she owed them a blow job or quick fuck in the back of the club because they’d given her a four-dollar tip. Defusing their anger with contempt worked with most of them. They’d stalk off in a huff to try it on the next dancer who came their way.

  “I see. Practical, then. I like that. Do you know you were supposed to die that night too? Unfortunately, you slipped out without my guys catching it. That’s made things messy for a decade. We’ve found you a couple of times, but you always slipped away. Until now. You came right to us this time, a gift on a silver platter.” The woman smiled a very pleased smile, and Roxie wondered if she’d misjudged her. She might be crazier than Roxie thought to begin with.

  She definitely wasn’t a well-balanced woman, or a long-lost great-aunt looking to give Roxie an inheritance and a royal title. “Happy to have been of service to you. Can I go now?”

  “May I,” the woman said, correcting Roxie as though it was a habit she’d developed on someone else. “And no, you may not. And if you try, Clarence there will shoot you in the ankle. You won’t be running anywhere after that. But maybe I should make it a knee. If, by some miracle, you make it out of this alive, it would be nice to know you’ll never dance again. That should break your spirit. In fact, I may have him do it anyway. Clarence, do you have your gun?”

  Roxie shied away, tucking her legs up under her as far as she could, while Clarence waved his gun around before shoving it in the back of his jeans. If she made it out of this alive, the woman had said. If by some miracle, even. Fuck. She was in deep shit.

  “Yes, maybe I’ll do it anyway. I’ll think about it and decide later. You see, your dad fucked my life up a long time ago and I’d really like to repay him. Well, to carry out the rest of his sentence on you.”

  “But why me? What did I do to you? For that matter, what did he do?” Roxie demanded, but the woman just shook her head, her hair not moving from the French twist it was pinned into tightly.

  “I’m not letting you rush me, honey. I’ve waited ten years for this moment. And lately, well, I’ve had a few disappointments. Far too many.” The woman’s eyes became distant, and Roxie could only assume she was thinking over those events. Roxie didn’t care if the woman had lived an entire life of disappointments, none of that had anything to do with her. “I’m going to enjoy every single moment that I have with you. I’ve waited decades, really, to get full revenge. And while I can’t totally get that with you, I can get a good deal of satisfaction out of what is about to transpire.”

  “What is about to transpire?” Roxie asked, but apparently, Clarence had just about had enough of Roxie’s questions. He stalked over to Roxie, slapped her so hard her split lip began to bleed again, and walked far enough away that she could breathe again, out of the cloud of stink he gave off.

  “Please stop interrupting me, it’s rude,” Madam in her fur coat said, rolling her eyes. “Did your parents teach you nothing?”

  “Well, I lost them when I was eighteen, apparently at your bidding.” Roxie couldn’t hold the words back and expected the blow that made her ears ring. That still didn’t help the ringing or the pain that came with it.

  “Yes, it was my bidding. Your father did a very nasty thing to me. An unforgivable thing.”

  “My father is dead, whatever he did, he’s more than paid for.” Roxie tried to avoid Clarence’s meaty fist and only got clipped on the chin this time. Score one for her!

  “No, he didn’t pay enough, as far as I’m concerned.” The woman’s jaw went tight, her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed as she glared at Roxie. “Bring in the table, Clarence.”

  Clarence walked out and Roxie waited, wondering if the woman wanted dinner. She expected the big man to bring in a kitchen table that went with the chair. Instead, he brought in what looked like a massage table, but this one came with places in which to tie restraints. Roxie looked at the man, then the woman, a new fear blooming into life. She knew what that table was used for, she’d had something similar installed at Lincoln’s house. But this table wouldn’t be for pleasurable torture. It would be actual torture. “I’m pregnant.”

  “And I don’t care,” the woman said with a pleasant smile, as if she were reacting to the news that Roxie was allergic to peanuts and nothing more. “It will only increase my revenge, killing his grandchild, if you’re really pregnant. You could be lying for all I know.”

  “No, it’s true,” Roxie answered, but the statement was soft, barely spoken, because she knew it didn’t matter.

  “Which reminds me, you have another child, don’t you? I can’t find a lot about her, but I’ll track her down later. I have all the time in the world, now that I’m retired. I’ll wipe out your father’s entire bloodline, and hers too.”

  “My mother’s?” Roxie was confused, what had her parents done?

  “No, not your mother, you silly girl. Put her on the table, Clarence. Leave the chain o
n for now.” The woman waved at the table and Roxie began to fight, glad that she’d managed to get her hands free. She punched the guy in his mouth, felt his nose break with another punch, and gave him a thump in the eye that should cause a fairly decent bruise, but all he did was grunt as though a fly were bothering him. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t drop her, he just picked her up, dropped her on the table, and proceeded to lock her wrists far too tightly in the handcuffs. He then moved on to her ankles and locked them in as well.

  Roxie yanked at the cuffs, even though she knew there was no getting out of them. She’d used, and been in, more than enough to know that. Fuck.

  She’d played her only hand, and lost. If this woman didn’t care that she was pregnant, there was no telling what she’d do now that she had Roxie on this table.

  Roxie had known she was pregnant for a while now. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it. First, because she was old enough to know how to prevent it, but had messed up anyway. And second, so much shit had been happening that she’d worried she wouldn’t be able to carry the baby. Stress was bad for all women, but pregnant women had a hard time dealing with it. There’d been more than one instance when she thought the stress would do her in, but so far, she hadn’t died and the tiny little baby inside of her was still growing.

  Roxie swallowed hard as the woman came back into her line of sight, a mean smile on her face. She brought a hand up to Roxie’s face, tracing the outline of her jaw with a long, scarlet nail. The nail was very sharp, very pointy. Dangerous, Roxie found out, when the woman pushed the tip of the nail on her index finger into the bottom of Roxie’s eye socket.

  “I could take out both of your eyes, blind you, make sure you can never dance again in that way too. Oh yes, I know all about your life as a dancer.” The woman laughed a mirthless laugh, while Roxie tried to pull her eye away from the woman’s reach. “Blind dancers aren’t much sought after, are they?”

  Roxie shook her head no, fear closing her throat. No amount of bravado would stop this crazy bitch, so there was no need to put on a front.

  “I could, but I won’t. Not right now, anyway. I may change my mind later. We’ll see.” The woman inhaled deeply before she went to her chair and sat back down again.

  That was good. Sitting was good. So long as she was over there, she wasn’t here, hurting Roxie or her baby.

  “I’m surprised you came back. Especially if you’re really pregnant. Why would you put your child in danger like that?” The woman paused, allowing time for Roxie to explain. “Nothing to say? No matter. We can begin then.”

  “No, don’t!” Roxie called out, fighting against the cuffs. “I came back for answers. To find out what happened to my parents. I saw those men beating my dad up, saw them the night of the fire, and wanted to know why they were there. I never believed my dad killed my mother, then himself.”

  “Oh, very good!” The woman even clapped, but Roxie closed her eyes, thankful for a few minutes of not being tortured. “And that’s why you hid for so long. I had a feeling you were suspicious.”

  “I was. I’d seen them, as I said, and it all just seemed too convenient. My dad had a lot of money, why would he borrow money? Why would he kill my mother and then himself? It didn’t make any sense, and I knew something was wrong.” Roxie paused to take a deep breath. What else could she say to stall a little longer? “When I had my daughter I knew I had to keep her safe, away from whoever wanted my parents dead. I ran away, hid her when she came along, and…”

  Roxie cut her words off, something the woman said earlier finally dawning on her. “You can’t get to my daughter. Her father has her now. You won’t get anywhere near her. He’ll kill you before you or any of these assholes get near her.”

  “That may be, but I’ll have to try. That’s just how it has to be.” The woman smirked, but then went on. “Do you remember your Aunt Ruby?”

  “Who? I don’t have an Aunt Ruby,” Roxie frowned, wondering which way this woman was taking her now. Further into crazy-land obviously.

  “Pity. She’s the reason you’re here, as it turns out. With your father’s help, she ruined my life. That’s why I have you. That slut ruined everything.” The woman stood, came close to Roxie, and grabbed her jaw in a painful grip. Roxie stared up at the woman with the insane eyes, worried that her time was nearly done.

  10

  Lincoln

  “Kai, I need visual confirmation on this please.” Lincoln sent a deed over to his friend’s email, wondering who was giggling in the background with Kai. Some woman who would probably go unnamed, if Lincoln knew anything about the man, and he knew quite a few things about Kai. Lincoln frowned at the phone, even if Kai couldn’t see the look.

  “Right away, Lincoln. I’ll have the address checked out by my team.” Kai answered, after shushing whoever was with him. “I’ll be on the ground in an hour, my friend. Don’t worry, we’ll get your girl back.”

  Kai was on his way back to New York on a plane, coming back from a quick trip up to Montreal with a ‘friend’. Mmhmm. A friend. Sure. Millions wouldn’t believe Kai, but Lincoln did.

  Not.

  His mind immediately moved back to Roxie after that last thought, and he started digging through the deeds that Matteo had provided him with. He was looking for a building where this mysterious person that Matteo wouldn’t name yet might have Roxie. So far, Lincoln and his team on the ground, along with some help from Matteo, had searched a dozen buildings. The hours were ticking by, hours that Lincoln didn’t want to waste.

  Lincoln had called Kai immediately after Matteo admitted there might be someone after Roxie, even if he hadn’t told him the person’s name or why she might be after Roxie. Lincoln knew it must have more to do with something Roxie’s parents might have been involved with, that she was in the crosshairs because of them, but he couldn’t prove it. Not yet.

  “Tanya and Monica, you two find anything yet?” Lincoln asked the two PAs he employed, both of whom had left their daughters with Aunt Katie upstairs. As soon as he figured out that Roxie actually had disappeared, he’d had the older woman take Lily out of school and fly up with the two PAs and a security team in tow. The kids were all upstairs, playing dress-up and having a real tea party, thanks to the cook in the house quickly putting together some tea cakes and a pot of weak tea for the children.

  “Not yet, Lincoln. I’m doing some research into Matteo’s past, not finding much there other than he was married recently. He’s stayed pretty much out of the limelight up until now,” Monica said and Tanya agreed with a nod.

  “I’m not finding anything about Roxie’s parents either, Lincoln,” Tanya chimed in. “Just the same old thing we always come up with. Marriage certificate, death certificate, a few newspaper pieces on her dad. Nothing else, really.” Tanya made a sour face, but Lincoln knew that was because she considered herself a supersleuth when it came to the Internet. If she wasn’t finding anything, then it was unlikely anybody else would be able to find much either.

  “It’s all very strange. In the age when you can pay ten bucks and get anybody’s last known address and phone number, all we can find out about any of these individuals is that they were married, went to a few charity events, and that two of them died. There’s been some kind of stripping going on here.”

  Lincoln frowned when Tanya snickered, but she smoothed her face out. She knew what he meant, someone had gone in and stripped out information to protect the privacy of these three individuals. But why? Lincoln could understand Matteo trying to stay lowkey, but why strip out any information about two dead people? It didn’t make sense, but that was the truth he was faced with.

  “Alright. If we’re not going to find any kind of unknown properties, we’ll have to stick with the known properties. Have you got team three out at that new address Matteo sent over?” Lincoln’s eyes turned to Monica, who nodded pertly.

  “Yep, they’re going in now, let me just listen in.” Monica pointed at the ear bud in her right ear, her eyes going
vacant as she listened to the tiny speaker. “Nothing so far. It’s another empty building.”

  “Matteo owns a lot of empty buildings. He should really do something with them,” Lincoln mused, but it was just to distract himself while he waited to hear any news that might come in about Roxie. He’d go out himself and look for her, but he was worried he’d be busy storming a building when they found out where she actually was.

  For a moment, Lincoln felt a wave of helplessness swamp him. He nearly dropped to his knees as he remembered the last time he’d seen Roxie. Her face was a mask of hurt anger. She’d been…very angry. But he’d seen the hurt beneath that anger. He’d felt it, as if it were his own hurt, and in a way, he had hurt himself when he’d hurt her.

  Words, that was all he’d used to hurt her, but they were hateful words, words meant to sting and dig into her soul. He regretted what he’d done now, he had the moment he’d said them actually. But for now, he needed to focus on getting her back. He could beg her for forgiveness later, when she was safe.

  He didn’t allow himself to think about the what-ifs, he only thought about the when. When he got Roxie back. When Roxie was safe. When this was all over. Only when all of those whens were reality would he think about anything else. Until then, he’d focus on the things he could do.

  Lincoln wasn’t surprised when he found himself upstairs, watching his daughter laugh with her friends, through a small opening he’d made when he cracked the door open. Lily had asked him again about her mother when she arrived at the house with Aunt Katie. Her little face had been red from tears and she sniffled as he took her into his arms. He’d told her the only thing he could, that he’d get her mother back to her as soon as he could.

  The redness in her cheeks now was from laughter, as Aunt Katie let her and her friends have as many tiny square cakes as they could push into their mouths. They’d all be bouncing off the walls later, but it was a small price to pay to let them all have a moment of laughter. Lincoln pulled the door closed and went back downstairs.