Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (39 page)

“My artillery room.” He smiles and nods his head for me to look behind him. “Come on. I need to get you fitted.”

He leads me into the third bedroom that only has two file cabinets against the white walls. Noise from the closet grabs my attention so I look over and take in all the different knives, ammo, and guns lining it from floor to ceiling. “Why do I have a feeling when you say fitted, you’re not talking about clothes?”

“Lift your skirt.” Lyric bends down and waits for me to do as he says. But I don’t. “Lift your skirt, Red. I need to check this holster and gun’s placement.”

“Gun? Me?” I squeak out and step away from him in surprise.

“Yes, you. I’m not letting you do this without something for protection. And didn’t you say you took lessons?” He grabs me by the waist and pulls me toward his body again. He raises my skirt enough to show my upper thigh then straps something against my skin.

“Y-y-yeah. But that was shooting a target.
In pants
.” He ignores my rant and continues doing whatever it is he’s doing. Then he pulls the strap so tight it pinches my skin. “Ouch you dick… that hurt.” I swat the back of his head but it doesn’t deter him.

“It needs to be tight so it doesn’t fall off from the gun’s weight.” He finishes adjusting the garter holster and I can hear Hyde snickering in the closet. Who knew he had a personality? “Now, which are you more comfortable with? Revolver or automatic?”

“I’ve shot both. But I used to have a revolver.” Before I know it, a 38 revolver hangs on my upper left thigh. It’s strangely scary and exciting at the same time. Lyric and Hyde check ammo, grab guns, and tuck away a few big knives. As each second passes, I start to feel like a bad ass, like someone who can go up against a Russian drug lord and kick ass. But then once we finish loading up the car, that adrenaline-induced reaction vanishes. The nerves start kicking back in and I’m a jittery wreck.

What the hell am I doing?

That question runs through my brain as the place opens up for whatever is in store tonight. Even as I sit at a vacant table, it’s there. As people pass and pay me no mind, I suddenly need a drink. Then I see Chris behind the bar and I forget about the drink.

“Um… Mouse? What’s with the look?” he asks while cleaning glasses.

Leaning in close so nobody hears me, I look him in the eye. “Chris, tonight I’m not Blaire. Don’t ask. Just keep the shotgun under the counter close.”

Turning, I head back to my table without the drink, hoping he doesn’t think this is some joke. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to save my friend.

Once I’m settled, I observe the unusual crowd surrounding me. Most are dressed in casual jeans and shirts, but a few stand out in sports coats, pleated slacks, and ties. My ritual of counting starts as I concentrate on the music playing in the background. But my brain can’t focus on anything for too long because I’m so restless.

How do I know the good guys from the enemy? The only person I recognize besides Chris is Lyric until I see Cory’s ex-boyfriend walk in with some new blonde arm candy. When he looks my way, I cast my eyes down at the table, praying he doesn’t recognize me.

“You’re acting scared. Remember, Anya isn’t scared.” Lyric’s warm whisper in my ear fills me with calm. “I got you, baby.” He kisses my cheek before disappearing into the crowd.

He’s right. I’m not Red or Blaire tonight. I’m in disguise. I’m Anya fucking Polesky, and I own this bitch. My posture straightens as I sit erect in my chair. Turning slightly, I cross my legs, and just like that, I feel different, sexy, and strong.
Ready
.

A good-looking guy with black hair and intense blue eyes places a glass of red wine in front of me as he sits down across from me. He’s one of the customers who seems overdressed, but who am I to talk. I’m wearing a black Vera Wang dress that deserves to be at a Red Carpet event instead of a grungy bar.

Smiling in true Anya/Mandy form, I tell the guy thank you while wrapping my hand around the stem of the glass with feminine grace.

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Polesky,” he says with a wink. “Name’s Cole. Cole Knight.”

Understanding takes hold. He’s part of the plan, not the bad guy. Part of the Knight family that Lyric called early this morning. My body relaxes just a bit from at the thought. “Mr. Knight. What makes you think I like red wine?” My voice is seductive just like hers would be on a job. Cool and strong. I remember all the nights I watched as my tutor seduced men. How she watched them… studied them… used them. I need to be her.

“Because I hear Anya Polesky loves anything that looks like blood.”

“That she does.” Lifting the glass to my lips, I savor the pungent yet sweet taste that brings me back to my time with Mandy… Anya… whoever she is.

“Actually, Lyric sent me over. He wanted me to reassure you that you’re in good hands.” He folds both hands on the table. “See. And they’re talented too… Just sayin’.” He smiles with pure cockiness before he leans in. “But really… I’m ready to give lead poisoning to any asshole that looks at you wrong. Just say the word.”

“I will. Thank you.” We sit there in silence and study the ever-present crowd. He discreetly points out who’s part of the Knight family and playfully tells me not to shoot them. When my wine is almost gone, I decide to be brave. “So, who are you and how do you know Lyric?” The guy I’ve fallen in love with still has too many mysteries and I want to discover them all.

He grabs a glass of amber liquid from a passing waitress. “I already told you the answer to your first question, and as for the second, let’s just say we do
business
together.” He drains his glass and smacks the waitress’s ass when he’s done.

Point taken. So instead of any more questions, my fingertips circle the rim of the glass. Lyric passes several times to check on me or kiss my cheek. Plus he gives Cole evil looks that only cause him to laugh as Lyric walks away.

When Cole straightens his jacket after sitting up, I know things are about to get real. “Looks like good ol’ daddy’s here.”

My heart rate picks up as the reality of the situation hits me. I take a deep breath, ready to look at the man Lyric hates so much, but Cole shakes his head no. “Why?” I ask, not understanding his reasoning.

“Don’t let him see you until Lyric is ready. He’ll give me the signal, then I’ll let you know. Let the fucker sweat. He might want to kill her, and if you’re her, at the moment that means you’re dead.”

It makes sense, so I do as he says. I’ll wait and try to stay calm. Keeping my cool, I watch Cole’s face as if I’ll be able to see what’s happening. “What are they doing?” I ask with a fake smile plastered on my face.

“Sitting at a table,” he says vaguely.

“Is anybody with him?”

“Yeah. One of his guards and another guy who’s sportin’ one helluva black eye.”

“What about Lyric? Is he okay?” The noise of the crowd is overpowering. My head is starting to pound from the tension, and my worrying isn’t helping either. My hands rest on the table and my nails dig into my palm.

“He’s fine.” His blue eyes land on mine. “Relax. My boys are close by, so don’t worry. He’s in good hands.”

“Easier said than done. I’ve never been one to relax, and this shit isn’t helping.”

“Well, smile and get it together because it’s show time.”

Seductively I reach up and bring my hair over one of my shoulders to obscure my face before turning around slightly in my chair. That’s when I see Lyric’s nemesis sitting across the room in his expensive tailored suit. A black goatee decorates his slender face, and his dark hair is neatly slicked back. He gives me no indication that he doesn’t believe our ploy before turning back around. Lyric seems to be relaxed, so my eyes move over to the big guy. He’s standing by the table, mean mugging everyone who gets close, wearing a long, black trench coat. Beside him is the guy with a black eye. It’s Massey, sitting beside Lyric in the booth with his back straight and hands on the table. When I look past the black eye, that’s when I see scratch marks.

“Love alone is worth the fight. Freedom is just a bonus.”

~Lyric

Lyric

As I set up extra cameras around the bar, I keep my eyes and ears open. Hyde’s linked into Janet’s older security system, and with the added cameras, Hyde will monitor every inch of the place from the hotel. He’ll keep me posted of anything suspicious through the earpieces Cole and I are wearing.
Both will be listening to every comment made throughout tonight’s exchange. But Hyde is the only one I’ll hear on my end. I turned Cole’s microphone piece off. I didn’t need the distraction of Red’s voice, or Cole’s ass flirting with her just to piss me off. I need to focus on what needs to be done and then I’ll kick his ass if I need to.

The larger the crowd becomes, the tenser I grow. People have really packed in tonight even though we reopened unannounced. No concerts or live performances are on the schedule. Only live action and some fatalities, and with any luck, no innocent people be killed or be injured. The Knight crew has flown in a dozen men to help tonight and they will keep their eyes open and guns down until I say so. And even though Cole Knight and I both like to make our own rules, he’s aware that tonight, I’m in charge.

Lou, Javier, and Joe are here, along with some of my men from the cartel side. Joe brought in some of his
waitresses.
Most of them are part of some biker association that usually hangs at The Hole. They know how to handle themselves when it comes to bar fights and violence. Plus their men are here as well, watching and waiting.

Now I sit across from the monster I’ve despised for almost a decade. He’s within arm’s reach but, to make sure tonight goes smooth without people dying, I need to play it cool. And that means keeping my eyes off Red while she sits with Cole. Even though he’s aware she’s mine, I also know he takes what he wants and that isn’t helping one fucking bit.

“So, Mr. Devereux, this little war between us has dearly cost us both. Me… my brother, you… your son and beautiful fiancé. Wouldn’t you agree?” His thick Russian accent brings me back to that night in the alley. His features remind me of his brother and I’d love to do the same to him. But I restrain myself. “And in light of all the deaths, I don’t see why we don’t have a… a… What’s the word? Truce? Yes… yes, truce, to finally put an end to all the killing.”

I just stare at him from across the table, not answering. He snaps his fingers and the gorilla on his left reaches into his trench coat.

My hand immediately reaches for the guns that rest on my left side under my leather jacket. “I wouldn’t fuckin’ do that if I were you.” My warning gains their attention.

Polesky only smiles as Gorilla continues. “It’s a peace offering.” He takes the bottle of liquor and places it on the table. “One of my favorites.
Stolichnaya Elit is a rarity to taste. It’s not like these imitators you Americans like. This is vintage Russian vodka. Worth dying for.” He sneers and waves over a blonde waitress with dark roots. She’s older, but smiles flirtatiously all the same. Polesky doesn’t return it. “Two glasses. Chilled.”

I feel Massey’s eyes on me, but keep mine on Polesky. I don’t need to look at him to know he’s showcasing a black eye and some other non-fatal wounds. Other than that, he seems okay. I didn’t see his family come in and that worries me. For all I know, they’re already dead. “So tell me what you want, Polesky, for Massey and his family to be released? I know you. You don’t show your face for nothing.”

Just then, the waitress brings over two frosted glasses. Polesky brings out a cigarette and lights it, deliberately taking his time answering. “Right now, I want to drink,” he says and once again snaps. His Gorilla comes to pour us both a great amount of his
peace offering.

Since he wants to take his time, I decide to ruffle their feathers. “Must be nice, having your own personal bitch at the snap of your fingers,” I say as his gorilla recaps the bottle. His eyes meet mine for a stare down but he quickly goes back to his post.

Polesky laughs from the insult just delivered to his guard. I feel eyes on us from all parties involved in tonight’s meeting and I’m sure they’re wondering why he’s laughing so hard. The gorilla says something in Russian and Polesky answers him the same way.

“English,” I demand to show my ignorance to their conversation. But I know what was said because Hyde is translating in my ear. Gorilla wants to put a bullet in my skull and Polesky promised him he’d get his chance. But I continue to play a dumb American for him and his monkey. “If you’re in my bar, you speak English.”

“My apologies, Mr. Devereux. I forget that my language is too intense for you Americans.” He raises his overflowing glass. “Now, let us drink so we can get down to business, shall we. To peace.” He toasts before tossing back the clear liquid.

“To peace.” I repeat to placate him while listening to Hyde as he keeps watch on the building. Seems at least thirty of Polesky’s men are standing around, some outside the building while the others are inside.