by A. J. Norris
Rico squashed his cigarette butt on the floor and the three of us walked next door to the Hilton. The entrance to the hotel had a covered valet area for loading and unloading the guests’ vehicles. A few cars waited in line for their turn. While two other guests grabbed luggage from their trunks, Rico led the way past the commotion into the hotel.
Every inch of the lobby was covered in tan, cream, and brown tones, from the marble tiled floor to the painted walls. The place was earthy, welcoming, and neutral. Nothing jarring like red or orange. Even the abstract artwork behind the reception counter soothed the senses.
Through the lobby, I followed the men to a bank of elevators with reflective brassy doors. Even though Rico had led us here from the lobby, Lincoln pushed the button with an arrow pointed up.
My heart raced while Lincoln focused on the floor and Rico cracked his knuckles. The elevator’s door slid open with a ding. “Ladies first,” Lincoln said, ushering me onto the car with a sweep of his hand.
Here we go. I wrung my hands. The doors closed, shutting Rico’s sour cigarette smell inside with us. I inched closer to Lincoln and breathed deeply. He raised an eyebrow at me, clearly hearing my intake of air. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing. You’re not going to puke, are you?”
“No, why?”
“Because you look like you are. This shouldn’t take too long.”
The elevator slowed then stopped on the top floor. Rico stepped off first. Lincoln grabbed my hand. His palm warmed mine and provided me some comfort, so I didn’t make a fuss. Although, I wondered why he’d taken my hand.
We came to a halt in front of a room, thankfully next to the stairwell. Ole Smokey knocked on the door twice. “Who is it?” A deep man’s voice asked from the other side.
“Flynn sent us.”
Someone else in the room spoke; however, the voice was muffled. The door unlocked and swung wide. A well-built man dressed in black cargo pants and a tight black T-shirt stood back, letting us enter. He had a gun holstered under each arm.
“Good afternoon,” an older man wearing a suit said from the head of a glass-topped dining room table. “I’m Mr. Crowley and this is my associate, Vincent. Have a seat with me, gentlemen. And this lovely lady can sit right here.” He patted the top of his thigh.
I froze. Pangs of dread sliced through my body. Who was this pig?
“She’s with me,” Lincoln said. Cupping my face with his hands, he kissed me, his soft but firm lips brushing over mine. His tongue slipped into my mouth just a little bit. A tease. Oh, god, I nearly moaned. And then he backed off, yet kept his heated stare focused on me. I put two fingers to my lips. What in the actual—
“I see. My apologies. When Flynn said he had something for me, I naturally assumed. Have a seat. The little lady can sit on the couch while we have a chat.”
Misogynist much?
He placed a hand on the gun with a suppressor that was sitting on the table on his right. I went to the sectional couch and sat. The room must have been their most expensive suite. Two-gun cargo pants man parked his ass in a chair by me and watched my every move. I shivered with the heebs.
CHAPTER 7
Lincoln
I didn’t like the way Vincent gawked at Nora. I glared in his direction, shaking my head. However, he wasn’t paying attention to me. She glanced at me with worried eyes. There wasn’t anything I could do to reassure her that I wouldn’t let anything happen. As far as this meeting was concerned, she was innocent.
Taking out the stolen necklace, I placed the string of oddly shaped citrine-colored stones on the table and pushed the ugly thing toward Mr. Crowley. Once I’d had a better look at the jewels this morning, I realized they were THC diamonds. “Your gift,” I said.
Mr. Crowley picked up the necklace and inspected the crystals. “Flynn knows me well. Tell him I love the gift.” He took an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit and tossed the thick packet on the table. “See that he gets this.”
“Thanks,” I said, holding the envelope up before tucking it into my jacket.
“Now, let’s have a drink. Vincent, hook my new friends up.”
Vincent stood and went to a room service cart stocked with a variety of hard liquors, an ice bucket, and glasses. “What’ll it be?” His tone had about as much enthusiasm as someone waiting in line at the DMV.
“I like to pour my own, if you don’t mind,” I said to him.
The man backed away. “By all means.”
Taking Vincent’s place at the cart, I poured Nora and me two fingers of Johnnie Walker over a couple ice cubes. I knew damned well we weren’t getting out of there without all of us drinking. Rico chose the Grey Goose, swigging the vodka straight from the bottle. My hand curled into a fist and I sneered at him.
Music with a killer bass blared from speakers throughout the room. Four men entered the suite. Nora inched off the couch and stood behind me. More people filed into the room, this time with a few women dressed to party. Drinks started pouring. The women danced around while Rico, Vincent, and the other four men got comfortable on the sectional couch and matching chair.
“Can we leave?” Nora whispered in my ear.
Unfortunately, when I glanced at Mr. Crowley, he motioned with his Sig Sauer that he insisted that we stay for a while.
“We can’t. It’s rude.”
“But we got the package, why can’t—”
One of the other men grabbed her around the waist from behind. “Hey, baby,” the dude said. “Let me get you a drink.”
“No, thanks.”
“Aw, I insist.”
“I’m with him. I’m with Lincoln.”
“Is that right?” He looked at me.
“That’s right. And you’re going to put her down now before you and I have a real problem,” I said, slipping my hand to the holstered Glock at my lower back. The man’s understanding that I wasn’t joking registered on his face. That’s right, buddy.
He set her down and raised his palms in surrender. “All right, then. My mistake. Are we cool?”
“When you back the fuck off.”
With a nod, he refocused on one of the other women and stepped away.
Mr. Crowley came over and handed Nora the drink I’d poured for her earlier. With his Sig in one hand, he palmed the Johnnie Walker and filled her glass. “Come on now, take a drink for me.” She put the whiskey to her lips, and he helped her drink all the amber liquid by keeping the glass tipped up. Tears welled in her eyes. The liquor in my gut soured, my heart burned. She coughed when he finally let her stop.
Then he poured another shot into her empty glass. “Down the hatch.”
What in the actual fuck? Did he think if he got her drunk enough, she’d lay on her back for him? No way was I letting that happen. He’d have to shoot me first.
Staring into the glass, she spoke softly, “If I drink this, I’ll be sick.” Nora pleaded with watery eyes with me to do something.
“I think she’s had enough,” I said.
“We’re just having a little fun.”
“Look, with all due respect, Mr. Crowley, she says she’s had enough.”
“Hey, I’m all about making sure my friends have a good time. We are friends, aren’t we?”
No. “Yeah, sure.”
One of the other dancing women bumped Nora from behind. A good portion of the whiskey sloshed out of the glass onto Mr. Crowley’s suit. “Will you look at that, you seemed to have made a mess of me.” He took his pocket square and brushed at the front of himself.
“Sorry,” Nora blurted. “I was bump—”
“If you didn’t want the drink, you should have said something.”
She did.
“Spilling your drink on me was uncalled for,” Mr. Crowley finished.
“It wasn’t her fault,” I said.
“I didn’t—”
“I provide you with drinks and this happens.”
Nora slammed the remaining shot of whiskey and shoved the glass at me. I bare
ly caught it.
“There you go. That’s all I wanted. For you to enjoy my hospitality,” Mr. Crowley said.
Where was Rico hiding? I wished to God that Bandit was with us instead of Rico.
I spotted him over on the couch still sucking back the vodka. Making eye contact with him, I gave him a stiff nod. He fished his phone out of his pocket and walked toward us with the cell held up to his ear.
“Is that Flynn?” I asked, hoping he’d play along if it wasn’t.
“Thanks, man,” Rico said. “Will do, sir.” He ended the call. “We gotta bounce. Thanks for the drink.”
“Pity. You can’t stay for the party?” Mr. Crowley asked.
“Next time,” Rico said.
“I’ll count on it. Give Flynn my regards. Maybe your girlfriend should stay with me.” Mr. Crowley winked at Nora.
“We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” I said.
“I could talk to Flynn about that.”
Nora left my side and got right in his face. “You couldn’t handle me.” She pushed off from his chest and spun. “Let’s go, boys.”
I caught sight of her glassy eyes. How could she be drunk already?
* * *
Melanie
Lincoln pressed the Lobby floor button and the doors to the elevator slid shut. He stood next to me and looked at me sideways with a smirk. “He couldn’t handle you, huh.”
“Nope.” I grinned. The elevator lurched downward and I listed into him.
“Whoa, there, lightweight.” He caught me by the shoulders, bringing me upright. His arm snaked around my waist. “You don’t drink much, do you?”
Rico snorted. “You ain’t kidding.” He tossed back the bottle of Goose he was carrying and downed a large swallow.
Lincoln shook his head. “I can’t believe you walked out of there with that.”
Rico shrugged. “Nobody even noticed.”
“Doubt that.”
“I had a full glass of whiskey,” I squeaked. “What’s that, like, the equivo—equivilan—”
“Equivalent,” Lincoln said.
“Equivo...equivi—equivilan.”
“Equivalent.”
“That’s what I said. It’s like drinking five shots. At...least.”
Lincoln chuckled, his body shaking mine. The liquor swirled in my stomach. I put my hand out to the wall of the elevator. Except it was farther away than I thought, and I wound up pawing the air. Before I knew what was happening, he positioned himself in front of me with one arm around my waist and his other hand grasping my chin. I closed my eyes.
“Nora?”
“Wha...?”
“Nora, look at me. Let me see your eyes.”
“Why?” I asked, flipping my lids open.
“I think there was something in the drink Mr. Crowley gave you.”
“It was my glass. You poured it for me.”
“I know, but you put it down.”
Despite the fuzziness in my head. fear panged my heart. “Am I okay?”
CHAPTER 8
Lincoln
“You’re okay,” I told Nora, brushing the hair out of her face.
I glanced at Rico who shrugged. “I didn’t see anything, man. I swear.”
“I’m not going to die, am I?” she asked.
“No, I’m going to take care of you.” When the elevator stopped, I took her hand. Her concerned expression disappeared. She wasn’t going to remember this.
Five minutes later, I settled her in the truck next to me. Once Rico shut the door and I got behind the wheel, I reversed out of the parking spot and sped toward the exit. I paid for parking and shot out onto the street.
“Any idea where she lives?” I asked Rico.
“Nope.”
“Nora, where do you live?” She slumped in the seat. “You didn’t pass out on me, did you? Nora?”
She moaned when I nudged her with my elbow.
“She’s passed out,” Rico said.
“No shit.” I listened to her breathing, and thank god, her breaths sounded steady. Likely she was just going to have to sleep off what I believed were the effects of GHB. If it wouldn’t blow my cover, I’d call the department and have that fucking asshole Mr. Crowley arrested.
Glancing over at Rico, I decided I needed to dump his ass. The light ahead of me turned red and I stopped at the corner. “Man, you gotta get out.”
“Fuck you.”
“Call an Uber. Now get out before the light changes.”
“This is bullshit!”
I pulled my gun out and pointed it at him. Even though he had one too, he put his hands up.
“Easy, man. I’m going.” The door banged closed as the light turned green.
Slamming on the accelerator, the truck surged forward. Nora woke up with a groan. “Where...am I?”
“You’re in my truck. Move over and get your seatbelt on.” She closed her eyes and went to lay across the bench. “Wake up,” I said, squeezing her side.
She squirmed and shuffled over. It took her about ten minutes to get the seatbelt across her torso and clicked in place.
“Do you feel like you need to throw up?”
“Uh-uh. I need sleep.”
“You gotta stay awake for me or I’ll have to take you to the hospital.” That did the trick. She sat bolt upright. I honestly didn’t think she wanted to go, and if I thought she was in danger I would have taken her anyway.
“No...hospital.” She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.
“Okay, then stay awake a little longer for me. I can’t let you drive like this so I’m taking you to my place till you sober up.” Whenever that would be; it would take hours. And I certainly wasn’t going to drop her off at home by herself.
Ten minutes later, I parked my Chevy in the garage of the one-bathroom studio apartment I’d been crashing at in Manhattan Beach. When undercover, I didn’t like the idea of staying at my real residence. This tiny rental was the only thing within the HBPD’s budget I could afford. But it was clean and newly remodeled.
Nora appeared more awake. She lolled her head against the seat and looked at me with heavily lidded eyes. “Is this where you live?” she mumbled. “It’s tiny.”
I snorted. “This is the garage. Come on.” She opened her door and slowly slid off the bench. Her knees buckled. Thankfully, she had a good grip on the door handle and managed to stay on her feet. I came around the rear of the truck and held out my hand. “This way.”
Grasping my hand, she let me carry most of her weight. I picked her up. Otherwise, we might not have ever made it inside. The studio was on the ground floor, so it wasn’t too much effort, plus she was lighter than I imagined.
I sat her on the couch in front of the T.V. Going to the refrigerator, I brought her back a bottle of water and shoved it at her. “Here. Drink this.” She needed to flush the chemical out of her system.
“Thanks.” She took the bottle but had trouble twisting the cap.
“Give it to me,” I said, snatching the Smart Water from her hand.
Her eyes widened. “Okay. You don’t have to be rude.”
I handed the bottle back and she took a long pull on the water. “How’s your head?”
She mumbled something that sounded like, “weird.”
“Okay. Drink the water I gave you.” I patted her on the shoulder and sat on the bed then laid back with my feet on the floor. The envelope Mr. Crowley gave me was still inside my jacket. The thing had been sealed and I’d left it so. Not knowing what was inside, whether it was cash for the “diamonds” or something else, I shoved it under the mattress between my legs.
Nora finished about half of the water and went to set the bottle on the side table and missed. The plastic container fell, spilling on the carpet. She bent to pick it up.
“Leave it.” Too late. She crumbled to the floor.
“And there she goes.” I scrubbed my face with my hands. “I’ll tell you what,” I said, “you can have the bed and I’ll take the couch.
What’s that, you say? I can take the bed? Oh, thank you.” Chuckling to myself, I swooped her off the floor and laid her on the bed on her side. I took the couch.
* * *
Melanie
I woke up with a kink in my neck. The kind you get from sleeping in the same position all night. As I peeled my eyes open, something wasn’t right with my surroundings. I lay on a queen-sized bed with dark gray sheets and a black blanket and I smelled coffee. Even though, I had worked at a Starbucks, I rarely drank the stuff. “Where am I?” I muttered, relieved I was fully clothed.
Water ran in another room with a closed door that must have been a bathroom since the living room, bedroom, and kitchen were all out in the open. The water shut off and Lincoln came out. “Good, you’re alive.”
“Was there some question?”
He shrugged. “You were still breathing, so I figured you’d wake up eventually.”
“What the hell happened last night?”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Standing at the foot of the bed, he put his hands on his hips. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the button on his jeans was undone. And there was something tattooed under his left pec that I couldn’t make out. The muscles on his arms, chest, and abs were well-defined. Cut, I guess the word for that would be. Lean was another word that described him. Bulging biceps... “Hello? What do you remember?”
My cheeks heated. I couldn’t stop staring at the V that disappeared beneath his pants. “Um, the last thing I remember...was drinking the whiskey that the old dude gave me.”
He laughed. “His name was Mr. Crowley. Do you remember that?”
“I think so. He wanted me to sit on his lap.” She gasped. “Oh, god, nothing happened, did it, with him?”
“No, don’t worry. We left after you drank the whiskey.”
I blew out a breath. Thank god. “Why can’t I remember anything after the drink?”
“GHB. I think.”
Whoa, wasn’t that the...? My heart punched my sternum as if the organ wanted to escape. “And you brought me here?” I looked around. “Is this your apart—did anything happen between us?”
“No, of course not,” he said, like I’d offended him. “I brought you here because I don’t know where you live, and besides that, I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave you alone.”
