In Jack's Arms (Fighting Connollys) (13 page)

his enemies away from me or Mattie or you or Finn?"

Jack hated to agree with her. The murky, violent world of Houston's underbelly wasn't one that he

understood. It left him feeling impotent and powerless. He had sworn that he would protect Abby and her

brother, and now he didn't know where to start.

Except that he did. Everything Abby said was true. There were only two men in all of Houston who

could help them now, but Jack only had connections—however tenuous—to the Albanian outfit.

The thought of going to Besian soured his gut—but he would do it for Abby and Mattie.

He turned to Finn who seemed to be awaiting orders. "Tell Kelly to bunk with Bee tonight. Get his room ready for Mattie. I'll take Abby to her place to pack whatever they'll need. We'll call Eric and get him to drop Mattie at our house."

"What do I tell Kelly?"

"Nothing." Jack hated the thought of dragging his brother or Bee into this mess. "You've already seen the video so it can't be helped." He placed his hand on Finn's shoulder and gave it a squeeze as guilt gripped him. "I'm sorry, bro."

"For what?" Finn shrugged nonchalantly. "Whether I saw the video or not, I would have gotten involved in this. Abby and Mattie mean the world to you. That makes them family as far as I'm concerned.

We protect our family."

"Yes, we do." He caught Abby's panicked gaze and noticed the way she seemed to relax a little at the realization that she had the full might of the Connolly brothers behind her. Even if they tried to keep Kelly out of the loop, he would find a way to get the full story eventually. Then he would be right there with

Finn, standing to shoulder-to-shoulder with Jack to fight off whoever dared to threaten one of their

women.

Their plan made, Jack grasped Abby's hand and interlaced their fingers. He maintained contact with her

in hopes of reassuring the woman he loved that she was going to be all right. He had no doubts that the next few days were going to be tense and dangerous, but they would find a way out of this alive and whole.

There was simply no other choice for him. He had made his promise to her and he wasn't about to break it.

After Abby gathered the things she needed from her car, they locked it and left it in the parking lot.

While he drove away from the gym, she traded texts with Eric. "He wants to know why I'm changing plans.

What do I tell him?"

Jack considered the options. "Tell him that I screwed up the dishwasher repair and flooded the house.

You're staying with us until I get the floors fixed."

Abby's thumb danced across her cell phone screen. She slipped her phone back into her bag and sat

back. Her gaze drifted to the window, and he reached for her hand. He hated to interrogate her now,

especially after the shock of that awful video, but it had to be done.

"Tell me about your relationship with Besian."

Her gaze snapped toward him. "Why?"

"Because I'm about to walk into the lion's den, Abby, and I need to know all the angles. I need to know the history you have with this man." The memory of his family's run-in with the gangster and loan shark twisted his gut. "Between Besian and Hagen, we nearly lost the gym and Kelly a few weeks ago. We were in deep—hundreds of thousands of dollars—and it was Kelly's fists and Bee's selfless love for him that saved

us."

Abby's sharp gasp at the mention of the dollar amounts involved convinced him she hadn't known the

full extent of his family's entanglement. "My God, Jack! That's terrible. I had no idea. I mean—I had heard that your dad was on the line for some big loans, but no one ever let it slip that it was
that
much."

"I don't like Besian, and I don't like John Hagen." He wanted that clear right up front. "I think they're both scum."

"But?"

"But if keeping you and Mattie safe means I have to get down and dirty with a criminal asshole like

Besian Beciraj, I'll do it."

"Jack, I would never ask you to do that." She squeezed his hand. "You're too good a man for that kind of thing. Whatever Besian wants, I'll give it to him if it means we'll all come out of this alive."

"Like hell!" He disabused her of that notion quickly. "Do you know what he does? What sort of ways he makes his money?" Jack swallowed hard at the idea of Besian calling in a favor and forcing Abby onto one of his glittered stages. "The man is little more than a pimp with his strip clubs. The chop shops he's rumored to run aren’t any better. I won't even touch the lending side of his business or the gambling. No."

His voice cracked like a gunshot in the truck's cab. "You aren't making any deals with him."

"I've already made deals with him, Jack."

He damned near jerked the wheel and only barely managed to stay inside his lane. "
What?
" His gaze jumped from the windshield to her face and back again. There were too many shadows for him to see her

clearly. "Abby, what kind of deals?"

"When Granddad was alive, he had a long-running deal with Afrim Barisha, Besian's old boss. He

would send his clients to our shop to make payments when they didn't have cash. They brought in

merchandise to be pawned and took their cash to the loan shark. Granddad sold the merchandise to recoup

the loaned money they weren’t going to repay and Afrim would settle up with a five percent kickback."

"Jesus, Abby!" He couldn't believe Mr. K had done such crooked dealings. "Does anyone else know?"

"No."

"Not even Dan?"

"No, not even Dan. If he had, don't you think he would have used that information to force me to give him money for whatever trouble his son is in or to force my hand on a partnership percentage?"

She had a point.

"Well. Actually, I guess Eric knows. He thought the attempted break-in a few weeks ago and this new

one might have been connected. He worried it was tied to Besian. Like, maybe he was trying to intimidate

me."

"Is he?" Jack wouldn't put it past the bastard.

"No. We have an understanding."

Remembering the warning Detective Santos had given him, Jack decided he wanted the truth. "Are you

still taking payments?"

"No. It stopped the day I realized what had been going on, right around the time Granddad had that last heart attack and Besian's boss was stuffed in that trunk. We had a sit-down and agreed the partnership had only existed between those two men so we would have to negotiate a new deal to move forward. I didn't

want a new deal, and Besian let me walk."

"Just like that?" Jack didn't believe it for a second.

She hesitated. "I promised him that I wouldn't allow any other crews to operate out of my store and that I wouldn’t pay protection money to anyone else."

"Do you pay him a protection tax now?"

"No, but he took care of that thing with the brick."

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. The thought of Abby going to a fucking mobster behind his

back slashed at him. "Did you go to him for help?"

"No, he came to me. He visited the shop yesterday to tell me that he had taken care of it. The 1-8-7 crew won't bother me again."

"And what did he want in return for this favor?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. Besian Beciraj doesn't do nice things for anyone without expecting something in return."

"He didn't ask me for anything, Jack. Honestly, I think this was more about strengthening his position than anything. Now that John Hagen has left the sharking business, it's up to Besian to capture the market share from Hagen's successor. Besian's outfit has been growing, and their territory is expanding. It makes sense that he would want the 1-8-7 gang off my block. It's a bigger buffer for him and his interests."

"I don't like it."

"Neither do I, Jack, but we're in a precarious position here." She picked up the camera and placed it on her lap. "If Finn is right and the guy killed in this video was tied in with Romero Valero, that's really bad.

His reputation is terrifying. Like—I've heard he carries a machete!"

Jack had heard the stories too. Kelly was friends with Vivian, Romero's daughter who had married mob

boss Nikolai Kalasnikov. That was a tangled mess of a family tree if he'd ever seen one! But Kelly had told him the rumors of her father—and they weren't very encouraging. If that video was evidence of one of his

men being killed, Romero would want it and he would do anything to get his hands on it.

Then there was the hitman who had made the mistake of showing his face on the video. There were two

possibilities there. One, Flea had realized after fencing the stolen goods to Dan what he had given away so he had broken into the shop hoping to get it back and save himself. Two, drug-addled Flea had run his

mouth to the wrong person and now the word was on the street about the video. Jack leaned toward

scenario number two because Flea wasn't smooth enough to break into Abby's shop, steal the electronics

and get out without leaving evidence.

But who was smooth enough? The assassin? Sure. One of Romero Valero's men? Definitely. The

person who had hired the assassin? Absolutely.

The tightness in Jack's chest spread as he realized how many people could be looking for that video

camera. All of them would easily put a bullet in Abby or Mattie to get it back. For the assassin, especially, it was important to silence the few people who had seen his face.

Considering the trouble they were about to bring to Besian's front door, Jack questioned whether the

man would even be willing to help them at all. He didn't need the added heat of a cartel and a gun-running ex-felon with an outlaw motorcycle gang on his payroll. It could get messy very fast.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the high-end strip club that the Albanian owned, Jack heard

Abby giggle and glanced at her with confusion. "What's so funny?"

"This is the first place you've ever taken me," she said, unlatching her seatbelt. "Our first public foray—

and we're headed to a strip club."

Jack cringed. He hated the idea of taking Abby into the place but he wasn't about to leave her outside in

the truck. "When this all blows over, I swear I'll take you out on the town, Abby. I'll wear a suit. We'll go to a nice restaurant. I'll rent a suite in a downtown hotel. Flowers, wine, chocolate—whatever you want."

"Does that include jewelry?" she asked with a playful smile.

Smiling, he leaned over to kiss her. "I happen to know a girl who can get me a forty percent discount on some really nice diamonds."

Abby's mouth curved with amusement. "Forty percent? Don't push your luck."

Glad to have this moment of levity in their stressful situation, Jack laughed and pressed his lips to hers.

She slid her hand along his arm and up to the back of his head. He stabbed his tongue into her mouth,

tasting her, and made sure to push all the passion and love he held for her into their kiss. He bit down

gently on her lower lip, plumping it up with the nip of his teeth, and marking her just enough for her to

remember that she was his.

Caressing his cheek, she said, "Let me do the talking at first. Besian likes me. He'll help me."

Jack nodded stiffly. "If that's what you want."

"I trust that you'll know when to step in," she added before pecking his cheek. "You have good instincts."

Praying those instincts would guide them out of this successfully, he slid out of the truck and walked

around to Abby's door. He used those old skills to scope out the area, taking note of the vehicles

surrounding theirs in the parking lot and the traffic on the street. Not for the first time, he wished he had one of his pistols on him. The one Finn had packed for him was locked away in Abby's closet. God help

them if someone decided to open fire.

When they made it to the front entrance of the club, the bouncers barred them from entering. A sour-

faced man shorter than Jack by half a foot shook his head. "We have a dress code."

Smiling sweetly, Abby stepped forward. "Can you please tell Mr. Beciraj that Abby Kirkwood is here?

I'm sure he'll make an exception. It's a business issue."

The bouncer studied her for a moment. "Wait here."

Jack grasped Abby's elbow and gently guided her into a well-protected spot, using the building and cars

to shield her from anyone who might be following them. He slid into a guarding position that covered her

exposed side, using his own body to block any bullets that might come flying their way. He didn't think

anyone would be dumb enough to open fire at the front door of the Albanian mafia, but the people

potentially after the video camera tucked into Abby's backpack were probably desperate enough to try.

When the short bouncer returned, he flicked his fingers. "Mr. Beciraj will see you. Follow me."

With his hand between her shoulder blades, Jack followed Abby into the club. He could tell by her wide

eyes that she had never been in a place like this. When she glanced at him and frowned, he sensed she

could tell that he had. It wasn't his scene anymore, but as a young Marine between tours, he had frequented such joints. Well—not places as nice as this one. Whatever his feelings toward the mobster, Jack had to

admit the club was lavish and upscale and every bit the gentleman's club it claimed to be.

They were led across the bustling main floor to a door hidden by purple crushed velvet drapes. The

short bouncer took them down a hall lined with doors, most of them dressing rooms and employee lounge

spaces to a suite of offices at the rear. He motioned toward a door and left them.

Abby rapped her knuckles against the door, and Jack instantly took note of the solid sound it created.

Clearly Besian expected trouble if he had a door like that one separating him from the rest of the club.

"Yes?"