No More Mr. Nice Guy (25 page)

When I pulled up to the cigar bar in the canary yellow Lamborghini, all eyes turned to me, which was exactly what I had wanted. I stepped out of the car and handed the keys and a hundred-dollar bill to the valet before heading to the entrance. On my way, I accidently bumped into a brown-skinned brother, who was accompanied by a large, six-five football player–looking dude and some rather scantily clad women.

“You ever heard of excuse me, motherfucker?” the brother barked.

“Look, it was an accident, but there's no need to bring my mother in it. We're all gentlemen here, remember?” I pointed at the sign by the front door that read GENTLEMEN'S CLUB.

“If you step on my shoes again, you're gonna wish I was a gentlemen as I bust you upside your head.”

I had to give it to him. He didn't back down, and from his stance, I could tell he'd had some type of training.

“Yo, Bruce, is there a problem?” His big-ass friend and the girls had stopped about twenty feet past us.

He glanced over at his friend. If he called him over, it was gonna be a problem, because both of them looked like they could handle themselves, which basically meant my plan was shot. He stared at me for a second, and I stared back.

“Nah, this punk ain't worth it.”

I can't begin to tell you how relieved I was when he started walking. The last thing I needed to do was have my mission blown because of two puffed-up assholes looking to impress their bitches.

I strolled into the smoke-filled club and scoped out the wealthy, middle-aged ballers with the young, expensive arm candy. At the largest and most impressive table sat the man I'd come to see. Bridget's warnings were playing in a loop in my head.

“Every single thing about this assignment is high stakes. El Gato is dangerous, but then so is everyone he surrounds himself with. Taking him out means you must be prepared to take out all of them.”

“Can I help you, sir?” A Mediterranean beauty greeted me. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my thick wad of crisp hundred-dollar bills and peeled off five, making sure she spotted the expensive diamond bezel Cartier watch on my wrist. She flashed me her million-dollar I'd-fuck-you-for-some-of-that smile and led me to a table with a RESERVED sign.

“This is perfect.” I assured her as I took a seat. Then I handed her a larger stack along with a special request.

A few moments later, she returned with a two-thousand- dollar bottle of Dom Perignon White Gold for my approval. The game officially began as I watched her deliver it to El Gato himself.

“What the fuck!” A loud roar came from El Gato as I watched his men try to restrain him. Clearly they failed, as he headed over to my table like a bull charging his opponent in a ring. His men had to run to keep up with him.

El Gato spat his words out at me. “You send me a bottle like I'm some cheap whore? And you send me a message that you wish to help me upgrade? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

I sat there calmly studying him before I replied. “At two thousand dollars a bottle, I wouldn't consider you cheap. Besides, it was a whole hell of a lot better than that basic shit you were drinking.”

He damn near leapt at me.

“A man of your stature deserves the best. Would you disagree with me, Mr. Soto? Or would you prefer I call you El Gato?”

He grunted in response, letting me know that if this wasn't a public place, I most likely would be dead by now.

“You don't exactly fly under the radar,” I commented before leaning back confidently. He continued to stare daggers at me as I continued. “You could always send back the champagne, but then that might hurt my feelings. Then I might not feel so inclined to do business with you,” I told him and watched his expression relax as his mood shifted.

“And who are you that I would even consider doing business with you?” he questioned.

I answered with my cover, “Wellington. Marcus Wellington. And since I'm not about to share this information with the entire world, I suggest you pretend we're old friends and have a seat,” I said boldly, knowing how fine a line I was walking.

He sneered at me. “Why would I do that?”

“Because what I have to say just might make your day,” I told him.

He seemed to consider this briefly before he nodded to his men, who posted up around the booth like sentries as he sat down.

I motioned to the bottle. “Try it. A man like you will appreciate the difference.” I poured him a glass and handed it to him, but he didn't dare drink, probably fearing I was trying to poison him. Maybe he was afraid his immunity was wearing off or something. That would make him one very paranoid man, a weakness for sure.

“What do you want, Mr. Wellington?” he asked, and I could tell his patience was already running short.

“It's not what I want. It's what I have.”

“And exactly what do you have?”

I steeled my voice. “I have the shipment that left Fort Bragg. Your people were planning on stealing it in North Carolina today. That's what I have.”

His voice lowered to a whisper. “What shipment are you referring to?”

“Oh, just a few hundred of the highest grade assault weapons money can buy.”

He remained completely still in his seat, but I could see his rage boiling just beneath the surface. “Those are my weapons. I have buyers for them. They have already been paid for,” he informed me.

I felt relieved that we were in a public place, because the way his hands were gripping the edge of the table told me he wished it were my neck instead.

“No, those are the weapons you planned on stealing. My men stole them first, which makes them mine. I'm sure this isn't the first time you've heard that possession is nine tenths of the law.”

This was not a man used to losing. “Since you were so kind to inform me of that, I'd like to inform you of something.”

Instead of looking at him, I decided to drag this out by taking a sip of the champagne before answering. “What's that?” I said when I finally put down my glass.

“You are a dead man.”

“Perhaps, but then I'd be a dead man with a truckload of weapons that you need, so killing me is not the answer, and we both know it.”

“And what is the answer?” he questioned me.

“A partnership. I've got the guns; you've got the clients,” I said, as if it were the greatest idea in the world. He sat back, thinking, and I waited with my stomach churning.

He cursed in Spanish, biting his upper lip. “Fine. I will see you tomorrow at noon. We will negotiate after I've had you and your story checked out.”

He stood up and snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, a beautiful brunette appeared in front of him. “This is Dominique. She will keep you company this evening, and tomorrow she will escort you to my house—or if I find out you lied, she will kill you.”

I had to admit she was probably one of the sexiest women I'd ever met. “I take it this is non-negotiable,” I said, forcing myself to keep a steady voice.

“You are a very perceptive man. But please don't worry, she is also excellent company.”

Dominique nodded her approval to El Gato, which made me realize she must be one of his women, because she definitely had a vote. She slid in close to me, until her lips were on my ear.

“Not only can I speak eight languages, but I can cook, discuss art, music theory, architecture, and I am also skilled enough to suck a golf ball through a straw.”

Yeah, this is going to be a very interesting night, I thought as El Gato drained his glass and picked up the bottle.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow,” he said before taking the bottle back to his table, followed by his bodyguards.

I'd always thought of myself as a bad-ass, never needing anybody, particularly not anybody attached to a penis, unless it was sliding between my legs. That was why this whole new experience with Niles had caught me off guard. My need for him was so out of the ordinary that, like my shrink had suggested, I just stopped questioning it. I just knew that this man was the one. He was the first one to come along who I allowed to soften the edges I'd grown so used to. Like some naïve schoolgirl, I allowed all my walls to disintegrate. And how could they not? Not only was he genetically superior, but Niles had my back. As soon as he got back we were going to have a talk and make some real changes. Fantasies of this new life swirled in my head, distracting me to the point that I didn't hear the doorbell, until it was being repeatedly rung.

“What are you doing here?” I opened the door, staring at the one person capable of ruining my mood.

“I've been doing a lot of covering up for you lately. I'm not sure how long I can keep this Detective Fuller thing from the director.” Jonathan stormed into my apartment as if he'd been invited.

“I want to know what the hell kind of security I'm paying for that allows you to just waltz into my apartment.” I was going to have a little talk with the doorman as soon as Jonathan was gone.

He folded his arms across his chest, studying me. “Really? That's what you're focused on?”

“I'm working, so I'm focused on a lot of things, Jonathan, including you leaving so I can get back to doing my job.” I refused to play nice during this impromptu visit.

“I need to know what you're going to do about your problem. The fact that someone wrote your name down at a crime scene, big and bold for everyone to see, means this is huge.”

Of course he was right, but I wasn't about to let him know my level of concern. “I'm working on it.”

“I'm sure you are. Let me help you. We used to be a good team,” he offered in a way that I'm sure he thought was gracious—except we both knew he didn't do anything without a motive.

“So what's it going to cost me?” I sneered at him, waiting for the catch.

He reached out and slid his hand around my waist. “I'm thinking the same thing you gave me for Niles,” he said, breathing heavily in my ear.

I took a step back to create some distance between us, making sure I was out of the reach of his greedy hands. “No, thank you. I've already got a partner,” I shot back, knowing it would burn him.

“Niles?” He burst out laughing like I'd said something hysterical. “You better pray he even comes back. That job was way over his pay grade, so I wouldn't hold out much hope for his return.”

“You need to stop underestimating him, because when he does come back, we're leaving the business together. I'm done.” As soon as I said it, I could see that my words pierced him like a blade.

“What? Quitting? Are you having some kind of feelings for this guy? Like you think you're in love or something?” Jonathan yelled, hovering over me until I was backed against a wall. “I thought you were smarter than this.” He sounded disappointed that I wasn't the heartless bitch of his dreams.

“What if I do? I don't have to answer to you or anyone about my private life,” I reminded him.

He leered at me. “You don't get to have a private life. Everything about you is transparent.”

I shoved him away from me. “Stop acting so weird. I told you that when Niles returns, he can help me with this problem.”

“You sure about that?” he challenged me. “'Cause a lot of bad things can happen when you put your trust in the wrong person.”

“Of course I trust Niles. Not only is he capable, but I trust him with my life,” I snapped back, hating his smug superiority.

“Stop being so stupid. Let me help you with this. I have the resources to find out who is after you, and when I find them, I can make this whole thing go away.” Somehow, his pledge to help me came out sounding more like a threat.

“As long as I let you fuck me?” I questioned with attitude.

“And is that suddenly so distasteful? I mean, it's not like you haven't had my dick inside of you before, and from what I remember, you seemed to enjoy it.”

“Well, not anymore. There is only one cock I'd like to suck, fuck, and have in my life from now on. This job doesn't allow for monogamy, and since I'm not try'na fuck for checks or respect anymore, I need to leave,” I stated with finality, hoping that he would drop the hard-ass routine and leave. I did not want to admit to him that whoever was after me had me running scared.

“You're making a mistake,” Jonathan seethed.

I stormed over and opened the door. “You can leave now. Like I said, I don't need your help any longer. I have Niles.”

“Bridget, you take this route, and I may not be able to come to your rescue when your boy toy lets you down.”

“He won't,” I promised him before I slammed the door after him.

Two armed bodyguards met us as we pulled up in front of a twenty thousand square foot mansion. Each of the bodyguards opened a door for us, but mine had to wait, because I needed to do something. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a prescription bottle. Dominique gave me a questioning stare as I popped one of the pills.

“Xanax. It calms my nerves before a big meeting,” I explained apologetically before we exited the car.

She led me through an impressively furnished house, into an outdoor courtyard. El Gato held court with several Latino men. Most of them were armed, with their weapons exposed. I wondered if it was for my benefit. I thought that Dominique would stay, but after kissing El Gato she quickly disappeared.

El Gato stood to greet me. “Mr. Wellington. Come, come, please sit.”

“Thank you.” I took the seat across from him, and he sat back down.

“Mr. Wellington, why didn't you mention that you work with Jose Rivera?” He asked me, his mood a whole lot more congenial than the night before. But we weren't besties just yet.

“So now that you know who I work with, you also know I have what you want.”

“I do,” he answered.

I reached into my breast pocket, removed an envelope, and slid it across the table.

“I'm sure you have a busy schedule, so I'd like to cut to the chase. Here are our terms.” I sat quietly as he took the paper and read it.

Then he lowered it and stared at me a full minute before responding, “Wow! You got some pair of balls on you, don't you?”

“A closed mouth has never gotten fed, so I learned early to ask for what I want. We can supply you with anything you need, but you should know that our ultimate goal is to become your new supplier.”

His eyes grew big. “Let me make sure I heard you correctly. You steal this shipment right from under my nose, and then you expect me to pay you double for it?”

I nodded. “Yes. That's exactly what I expect. We left you room to make a tidy profit.”

“Go fuck yourself. I don't pander to extortion.” He was furious, but I just played it cool and acted like this was all part of the negotiation.

“Look, we thought the right thing to do was to give you the first option, but please understand that you are in no way our only interested buyer. I will inform my people that you have passed. Good day, Mr. Soto.” I stood up, ready to leave.

El Gato snapped his fingers twice, and two bodyguards pointed their guns at my head.

He sauntered over to me, threatening, “You are not going anywhere. Those are my weapons. Now, make arrangements to get them to me, or you die!”

I raised my wrist to look at my watch. The bodyguards glanced at their boss for an answer. El Gato waited patiently for me to reply, but all I did was smile, because I knew something they didn't. When I passed the bodyguards earlier, I had placed a tiny sticker on each of their necks, just the way I'd been taught.

“Why the fuck are you smiling?” El Gato shouted at me.

“Because the poison should be kicking in right about now,” I informed him just as his men began to crumble to the ground. Suddenly, it was just the two of us, face to face.

“What have you done to them?” he screamed as he looked around at all of his men squirming for their lives.

“Poison dart frog toxin. Real lethal, fast-acting shit,” I told him. “I had to take a pill before coming in here just to handle the stuff.”

“You think you can kill me?” He lunged for the gun of the bodyguard closest to him, but I wasn't about to let that happen. I kicked it out of his reach.

As I went to reach for El Gato, his arm caught me in the chin. He almost kneed me in the nut sack, but I twisted my body just enough for the blow to land on my leg. I grabbed his leg in the air and pushed hard so that he fell backward. Just as I went to jump on him, he flipped up and landed on his feet. He was pretty spry for an old guy.

“If one of us is going, it won't be me!” I promised, and I meant it. A roundhouse, a couple of karate chops later, and I was on top of him, with a gun pointed at his head. “My girl Bridget sends her love.”

“Fuck you and that bitch. I am El Gato,” he bragged, but I already saw that without his swarm of men, he was almost helpless. “You can't kill me. I have nine lives.” That was the last thing he said as I pumped two bullets into him.

“Yeah, well, I guess you should have counted, 'cause that was your ninth life.”

Stepping away from the bloody scene, I grabbed the case full of money, shoved the gun in my waist, and hurried through the house toward the front door.

“Everything okay? I thought I heard gunfire?” Dominique stood blocking my exit.

“You might need a new employer, but other than that, things are just fine,” I told her, and that's when I heard a gun being prepared. She came flying at me, arms and fists flailing, but I was in no mood. I hated fighting women, but I knew she was going to try to avenge her boss. It was her job.

We went at it, and I had to admit this girl was a real bad-ass. With every hit, she met me. Finally, I'd had enough, and I grabbed her in a chokehold and twisted, stopping just before the point of snapping her neck.

“Please. Didn't we have a great time last night?” She begged for her life, and I could feel myself softening. “I can show you an even better time today.” She started stroking her breasts in a gesture meant to be sexual, but it was just grotesque.

“Please don't flatter yourself. That was business. I've got something much better waiting for me at home.” I slammed the butt of the gun against her head, knocking her out. Yeah, I was ready to get home.