Walk For Me: Club Avalon Book 4

by Kay Elle Parker

  “I presume you met Jakub in the holding cells on your way in?”

  “There was some jumped-up prick banging on the mesh and screaming obscene threats. If that’s Jakub, then I guess we’ve met. What’s his story?”

  “I got careless on the way home from Braun’s yesterday. Guy on a motorcycle overtook me on the straight near to where you were ambushed, threw the damn thing over and made it look like an accident. Smashed the bike up, rolled himself down the road. Didn’t see the threat until he had a gun pointed at me.” It was embarrassing to admit aloud, but he’d suffered worse humiliations in his time. “I’ve had eyes on Bodie and Alicia’s parents’ gang. There’s been mutters about taking revenge for the deaths of the founders. My mole tells me there’s a new couple in charge, killing their way to the top and reorganizing the order of things. Given the gang a goddamn name. Bang Bangers,” he said, half to himself. “What the fuck kind of name is that?”

  “That’s kid shit. Have they got children in charge of that racket now?”

  “Not when the woman in charge is giving people gasoline downers and setting them on fire from the inside out. I’ve got no intel on them yet, but the female is definitely a psychopath.” Atticus watched Anarchy busying herself with her task, and wondered if Alicia had woken up yet. He didn’t want to leave her long. “Jakub pulled his stunt trick to give me a message. I hand over Lisha by tomorrow night, or they’ll burn this place to the ground.”

  “Foolish idiots. We’re taking it as a real threat?”

  “Yes. Psychopaths aren’t entities to underestimate, especially not when Alicia’s life is at stake. I’ll assign someone to interrogate Jakub today, and there’s also the mole, Koda, in safe housing. We’ll get as much data on C-Note and Fable as we can before we make a move.”

  “C-Note? Wait a minute. Anarchy!”

  Through the window, it was easy to see her roll her eyes before she straightened her shoulders and came to the doorway. “Yes, oh high and mighty sadist? How can I serve you this time?”

  “That snark will cost you several more welts if you don’t check it, kitten. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but we’re going to have this out when we have a few minutes to ourselves.” Jasper folded his arms over his chest. “Were you checking out a perp named C-Note for Christophe last week?”

  “Yeah, he wanted a background check running on the name. The Russians are holding a meeting with him, I think. C-Note, previously known as Max Lawton. Thirty-eight, Caucasian, born in Delaware. Comes from money but he beat and raped his babysitter when he was thirteen. His family disowned him after he was sent to juvenile detention until the age of eighteen, when he was released. A string of assaults, drug charges, and thefts landed him in prison after six months of freedom, and he served…twelve years, if I remember correctly.” Archie frowned and scratched her temple. “Released again eight years ago, but while he’s been suspected of a lot of shit, the police haven’t been able to get the evidence to convict.”

  Max had been a busy little criminal from a young age, Atticus mused. “And you’re sure Christophe has linked him to the Russians?”

  “Well, I don’t know his thought processes, but it must be connected to that mission. It’s taken all of Christophe’s time the past few weeks, and he’s piled some resources into it. I can’t see him asking about C-Note if he wasn’t relevant in some way.”

  “Shit. I need to call Christophe.” If the Russians were planning to join forces with the Bang Bangers, or were already in cahoots with them, it changed Atticus’s plans dramatically. “Archie, can you go upstairs and check on Alicia for me?”

  “What did we just step in, Att?” Jasper demanded.

  “Fuck. A big, steaming pile if this is what I think it is. There’s been nothing in his reports about the Russians collaborating with local gangs. If they are, that means the Russians are delving into the drug trade, or the Bangers are thinking about dipping their toes in weapons trafficking.”

  “They could be buying guns off the Russians,” Archie suggested as she passed by, heading for the door. “A trade for letting the Russians pass through their territory.”

  Atticus’s blood ran stone cold at the thought. There were too many underaged idiots with a lack of experience in handling a firearm running around the city already. Armed with the kind of firepower the Russians provided in bulk, the streets of Phoenix would be awash with blood, and citizens terrorized by crime.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Att pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to piece everything together and find a crack in which to pry. “Wait for the others to get here. If I can’t contact Christophe, we’ll continue with the plan I have in mind until we get additional data from him. After that…God knows. One thing is for sure, we can’t let the two organizations combine.”

  Jasper checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes before the meeting starts.”

  Phone in hand, Att stalked to the head of the table and took his seat. Fingertips tapping on the table, he waited for the call to connect with a fraction of his usual patience. Theories and possibilities were considered and filed away.

  “Boss?”

  “Christophe. Apologies for the early morning wake-up call.”

  “Not at all. I wasn’t sure if you needed me for this morning’s meeting, so I decided to drive up and check in. I’m about ten minutes away. Do you need me for something?”

  “You asked Anarchy to look into a guy named Max Lawton, aka C-Note.”

  “I did? Yeah, yeah, I did. Last week. My source flagged him as a person of interest after he came sniffing around the family a day after Ivanov’s murder. I’ve been doing some digging around, and Max is a shady little fucker. He and this purple-haired chick ride around on Harleys, acting like they shit gold.” Christophe cleared his throat. “Turns out they’ve been executing members of a local gang, one that dabbles in everything from narcotics to sex. Murdered their way to the peak of the hierarchy and are causing trouble from the ground level up.”

  “Bang Bangers?”

  “Yeah, stupid fucking name. You know about them?”

  “I have the basics. Did you find out what they want with the Russians? Are they dealing drugs to them, or buying weapons?”

  “It’s more complicated than that, boss. It will all be in the report tonight once I finish chasing another lead this afternoon, but from what I’ve discovered, the hits on Ivanov, his cousin, and his son weren’t internal as I first thought. I’m meeting with one of the family connections at two—they’re flying in from Chicago.”

  “What the fuck, Christophe?” Atticus’s voice turned to steel. “You’ve got Russian mafia flying in for a chat and you didn’t think you should run that by me?”

  “Sergei is not coming to talk to me specifically. He agreed to meet me at the airport for ten minutes of his time. He’s stepping in as the head of the faction here, and he’s open to our help finding the killer. I’ve told him I can’t make any decisions without talking to you first, and as he’s been a soldier the majority of his life, he understands the concept of chain of command.”

  “Fuck. Fine, but you agree to nothing, Christophe. We’re trying to shut the assholes down, not welcome them to Phoenix with flags and gently waving banners.” Growling under his breath, he pressed his fingers to his eyes. “Tell me about the complications. Give me something I can work with.”

  “Okay. So, Ivanov had indeed been meeting with C-Note before his death. Before any of the deaths. My source says that C-Note had been pushing for contact with the Russians for at least six weeks, and finally made it happen the week before the cousin died. He was trying to negotiate a contract where Ivanov paid him for using his bike riders as couriers, and for using certain routes through the city without interference.”

  “Ivanov didn’t like that.”

  “Ivanov didn’t suffer fools. He was Russian down to the bone, and being essentially blackmailed annoyed him. Some of his thugs roughed up C-Note pretty good and
tossed him out into the street.” A thoughtful noise hummed down the line. “Now if my timeline is correct, the cousin was murdered five days after that altercation. My source says a box of sweet pierogis was delivered to the temporary compound from a local bakery, which the cousin intercepted and ate on the sly. He was dead thirty minutes later.”

  “Gluttony will kill you,” Att murmured.

  “It will when those sweet treats are laced with poison. Someone had slipped nicotine into the pierogis, masking the taste of the poison with the tartness of the filling. Now, only a few days later, C-Note came back with his little purple friend in tow. This time the demands were harsher, basically cutting the Russians down to a very fine profit margin.”

  “He took Fable the second time around.” Atticus mulled that over. “She’s his secret weapon, or is he her patsy?”

  “Oh, she leads the party. No doubt. My source was adamant that Fable was the one wearing the pants, and C-Note deferred to her. They threatened Ivanov with the systematic destruction of his family, but he refused to cave in. Nothing happened for a few weeks until Ivanov died last week. Of course, my source told me nothing of this until after the son died.”

  “This just gets better.”

  “No, it gets terrifying. I’ll confirm this afternoon when I meet Sergei, but it sounds like C-Note and Fable have started buying off some of Ivanov’s men with drugs and pretty, underage girls. That’s why Sergei has been called in—he wants to cull out the infected parts of his own family.” Christophe paused, exhaled heavily. “They’re trying to infiltrate the Russian faction, boss, and not to raze the competition to the ground. If they get their hooks into enough members of the family, they’ll gain control. They’ll have access to the Chicago mob. Maybe they have the resources to take over the whole fucking lot, but if not, they’re going to go down fighting—with a lot of civilians from both Chicago and Phoenix paying the price.”

  “Not if we can help it. Does your source know how many members of the Bangers the family is up against?”

  “Their intel indicates around the fifty mark, growing daily.”

  That was a good step forward. Even Koda hadn’t had a ballpark number, stating that the membership increased and decreased drastically on a weekly basis depending on how many Fable killed for infractions.

  “This is what I want you to do. Turn around, go back to the city, and go to that fucking meeting with Sergei. Tell him that we are willing to take the gang out of commission, for a price. We cut out the cancer killing his family off one by one, and in return, he packs up what’s left of it and ships them back to Chicago. No more weapons trafficking, no more using Phoenix as a mule trail to Mexico. If he wants to be part of the operation, we can discuss that, but make sure he understands that when we make our move, it will be fast, and he won’t have a lot of warning.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure he gets the message. What if he wants to speak to you?”

  “He won’t, not yet. He’ll want to assess the damage to his family, deal with the shits that have sullied their reputation by taking bribes from a narcotics organization. If he asks for it, give him my cell phone number.”

  “Sure thing, boss. I’ll head back now. You’ll have my report tonight.”

  “Good job, Christophe. Thanks.”

  When he dropped the phone on the table, Jasper slipped into the chair beside him. “Good news or bad?”

  “The woman, Fable, is confirmed as running the show. No matter what, we need to take her out. The Bangers tried to negotiate a deal with the Russians and when they were turned down, resorted to blackmail and then three murders. They’re trying to expand the MC group by absorbing the Russians from the inside.”

  “Hostile takeover?” Jasper whistled between his teeth. “Ballsy tactics when you consider who they’re fucking.”

  “They’re using underage girls and drugs to buy their way in.”

  In an instant, Jasper’s face hardened. Teeth bared, he snarled, “Fuckers.”

  Yes, that would be a sore point for most, but with Jasper’s history and the things his parents did to forge him into their groomed assassin, it would strike him in an already open wound.

  Atticus heard voices coming down the corridor and nodded in approval. But it wasn’t his team who walked through the door first. His eyebrows quirked as Anarchy pushed his princess into the conference room, looking bright and alert. She was dressed in one of his T-shirts again, wearing a pair of yoga pants in electric blue, and her dainty feet were encased in fluffy slippers.

  She balanced a tray on her knees, and he was pleased to see a variety of fruit, a bowl of cereal, and two glasses of juice. It wobbled precariously, but Lisha steadied it capably. Behind her, Archie pushed the wheelchair like she was a grandma behind the wheel of a Porsche, her feet barely touching the gas pedal. She was juggling Mr. Bear and the wheelchair handle in one hand.

  “Someone was looking for her Daddy. We fixed up some breakfast and decided to come down for a while.”

  Atticus stood quickly, hurrying over to take Archie’s place. “Thanks, little bit. I appreciate you getting things organized for me. I’ll get her settled while we wait for the tardy ones.”

  “Oh, they’re not tardy. They’re all here, ogling the guy locked in the holding cell. He keeps threatening to disembowel us all if we don’t let him out, then swings over to bribing everyone with unlimited supplies of the drug of our choice.” Her eyes darted to Jasper when he made a harsh noise in his throat. “Not that I went to take a peek at him myself, of course.”

  “Sometimes, I believe you drive me crazy just so I’ll punish you, kitten.”

  “It has its advantages,” she admitted, then stepped aside and smiled at Alicia. “Don’t be scared of Mr. Grump over there. His bark is so much worse than his bite…unless he has his sjambok in hand,” she muttered almost inaudibly.

  More voices drifted down the corridor. “Come on, princess. Time to settle down and work for a while.” He guided the wheelchair to the open door and through, pushing her over to the table where she’d be able to see him at all times.

  The tray slid onto the table, nudging aside the items Anarchy had brought in.

  “I-Is this a coloring book?” Alicia whispered in awe, picking it up reverently.

  “It is. Brand new and all yours. I’m going to be busy for an hour or so, so I’d like you to do your reading and writing sheets. Every time you do one of each, you can spend some time coloring in a picture. Two worksheets for one picture, princess.”

  Her face lit up with excitement as she flicked through the book of colorless pictures. Her fingers reached out and feathered over the array of colored pencils in their package as though they were gold. “Thank you, Daddy. I love them.”

  Atticus crouched beside her, resting his hand on her nape. “You’re very welcome, princess. Did you use the bathroom before Anarchy brought you down? Change the tampon?”

  She flinched when he said Anarchy’s name, but it was lost in the mortified flush engulfing her cheeks. With a nod, she mumbled, “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Did you brush your teeth?”

  Alicia beamed at him, showing off said teeth, and he caught a whiff of mint.

  “Good girl.” The chatter from the conference room grew louder. “I’m right next door if you need me, Alicia. My meeting is about to start, but you have plenty here to keep you busy.” He gave her neck a quick squeeze. “Give your Daddy a kiss before he has to go to work, princess. Make it good.”

  Quick as a whip, she leaned forward and gave him a peck on the lips. Giggling, she opened the coloring book to a different page and traced her fingertip over the lines, shooting him cute glances. He wondered if she realized she was an adorable little tease.

  “A proper kiss, princess.”

  The pink tip of her tongue peeked out from between her curved lips, showing her playful little side perfectly. “Don’t wanna.”

  “No? That’s a shame, but I did tell you I wouldn’t steal anything you didn’t wan
t to give. Don’t forget to do your homework before you color—I can see you through the window.” He started to rise, but the small hand gripping his arm halted him for a moment.

  “Wait. Okay, okay, a proper kiss,” she agreed with a pout, then puckered her lips for him in invitation.

  “You know how to brighten a man’s day, Alicia.”

  The book slapped onto the table, then her fingers were stroking his beard, sneaking into his hair. She curved them around the side of his neck, just below his ear, then leaned forward again and kissed him with none of the innocence that identified her little side, but with all her passion as a grown, consenting woman.

  Atticus realized he couldn’t wait much longer, and as he tasted the edge of frustration underlying the kiss, neither could she. He wouldn’t risk her assuming that his constant refusal to have sex was a rejection, repeated over and over.

  He cursed when someone knocked on the door, then cleared their throats. “Atticus?”

  Breaking away just enough to leave a breath between their lips, he sighed. “I’ll be right there, Anarchy.”

  “Um, I just thought Alicia might be missing her teddy bear…but it seems she’s got herself a Daddy Bear keeping her busy. I’ll, ah, just leave this here.” Archie hummed something under her breath and then the sound faded as she left the room.

  And that, he thought, was a solid reminder to get his ass moving. There was a lot at stake here, and time was trickling down to the execution of a currently roughshod plan. There were so many elements that needed tightening and confirming if taking down Fable and her misappropriated organization was going to happen.

  One last brush of lips over hers and he forced himself to stand and move away. He retrieved Mr. Bear from the top of the water cooler and brought him back to Alicia. “Behave yourself, Lisha.”

  She touched her fingers to her mouth. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Leaving her was hard, closing the door to protect her from hearing things she was better off not knowing was harder. He didn’t want her to find out about this specific threat on her life unless absolutely necessary—with any luck, and a shitload of tactical skills, she would never gain that knowledge.