Risk It All (Risqué #2) (3 page)

She used to court trouble, to seek it out, her brother worked on the fringes of legality so she was no stranger to cops. And Blaser… he was a bad boy straight out of every girl’s wet dream.

Bending to pick up a chair, she scanned the riot of objects scattered all over, tidying up was likely to take the rest of the night. She could get it done, but she doubted it would change Mr. Lieberman’s mind about letting her stay. Erika had taken off ten days ago to get away from her boyfriend’s trouble. Being that Erika was the only one on the lease Brianna shouldn’t even have been staying here after that.

The landlord had turned a blind eye to her staying in the first place after Bri had used her Bambi act and persuaded him that she was really in dire straits. She hated to act pathetic and she hated to ask for favours, but she hadn’t expected to stay here for long. Since Erika had left ten days ago neither Bri nor the landlord had voiced the obvious fact that she was now living there alone and illegally.

Glancing at the door, she speculated as to how long it would take Rafe and his cronies to show up now that she was most vulnerable. Rafe was the dealer looking for Erika and her boyfriend, he had a squad of men who would delight in doing this kind of work. Bri couldn’t even kid herself that she’d be safe if she did choose to stay here because whoever had done this job for Rafe had kicked the door in to gain entry without finesse. Her only choice now was to get her stuff and get out.

As much as she hated running away from responsibility, and this mess technically was her responsibility, she was the last man standing on one side of a war that she hadn’t been around to start. The abode was hardly the Ritz; Erika and her boyfriend had long ago destroyed or sold anything that was decent about the apartment. Now it struggled to call itself water tight, there had been no upkeep of the place. But the state of the apartment hadn’t bothered Brianna, she’d only come back to town on the pleadings of her brother.

Gary had told her that she could stay with him, he’d practically begged her to. But Brianna didn’t want to be sucked back into living like her brother did, pay check to pay check or dabbling in illegality. So she came to stay with Erika in the hope of maintaining her independence.

Being back home had its disadvantages and advantages, the biggest example of both had presented itself when Blaser came knocking on her door. Erika had warned off Bri’s ex when he showed up unannounced. But it didn’t matter what Erika said, there was very little that would sway Blaser Warner once he’d made up his mind about something.

Gathering up some clothes, and what she could find of her other possessions, Brianna tidied as she went along, seeking items out. The suitcase that she’d originally brought was broken, but she managed with a duffel bag she found and a large tote. Erika and her boyfriend were gone, they weren’t coming back to chase an old piece of luggage.

She was just about ready to leave but slowed in her collecting because she had no plan, nowhere to go. Her brother was the only person she’d relied on growing up. Any friends that she still had in the area would be likely, just as Erika had, to let her down and Bri didn’t want to take that risk.

But she couldn’t go to Gary, he was presently doing his own time in jail, awaiting trial because they couldn’t afford bail and no bondsman would stand up for him. Hooking the strap of the tote over her shoulder, she let her eyes drift to the window. There was only one other person in this world who loved her as much as Gary did. One person whom, from everything she’d heard, had gotten his act together.

Just like her, Blaser wasn’t a part of that world they came from anymore. He would never get her involved in anything criminal, or abandon her if things got tough. Though none of that meant that Blaser wasn’t trouble. Blaser was the kind of trouble that a girl could never tell her mother about, at least he used to be.

She could still remember hearing the words he spoke as he broke up with her in that cavernous prison space. The moment the syllables hit her ears she had gone numb, her ears had begun to ring and in truth, they were still ringing six and a half years later.

Except now she was stuck, with little money and little choice, she had to risk opening that door again. She would just have to figure out how to keep him on the other side of the threshold because if he came inside… all hell would break loose.

‘Want me to lock up?’

‘No,’ Blaser said, straightening a Risqué emblazoned glass on the shelf behind the bar. ‘You get home to that gorgeous wife of yours.’

‘She’s pissed about some shit,’ Dax said, resting a fist on the other side of the bar. ‘She’ll have waited up just to give me earache when I get home.’

‘Way I hear it, the fight is sorta foreplay for you two.’

Dax’s usually clear expression became smug. ‘That’s definitely the truth. She’s a minx, everything is foreplay to her. I’m never sure if she’s going to jump me or kill me.’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘As close as you’ll get,’ Dax said, opening his hand and pushing away from the bar. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Blaser listened to his newest security man exit through the front of the building then he went through his usual checks, making sure that everything was where it was supposed to be, and that lights were turned off, etc. Dax had shown up two weeks ago and moved in with Ivy, who was the desk girl at Blaser’s auto garage.

Dax had come in shouting the odds at first, making sure that Blaser knew Ivy was off-limits. But he had no interest in Ivy. There was no doubt that she was a gorgeous girl and maybe under other circumstances he would’ve tried to take her for a roll in the hay. But that kind of casual encounter held no interest for him.

He’d never been a womaniser and had spent most of his life with one woman. The woman he set free when he went to prison. That was the final straw. Breaking up with her, breaking her heart, was the most difficult thing that he’d ever done in his life because he was still crazy in love with her and selfishly wanted to keep her. But he’d made her cry too many times and at twenty-eight, he was supposed to be getting his act together, not losing his shit. So he’d called her into visiting and ended it. Six and a half years later, and he still thought about her every day.

Shaking off his fleeting thoughts of Brianna, he swept up his leather jacket, stuck his arms in the sleeves and went around all the exits to ensure that they were locked up.

Risqué was a strip club and a place he’d dreamt of owning since he was a kid. Brianna went along with his dream and they used to fantasise together about what it would be like to own such a place. They even went so far as to name it and talk about décor. She liked the idea of having a high-class place where men could enjoy beautiful women.

Brianna’s own experience with strip clubs had been with those of the lowest sort, so they’d always promised to stick to the rules when they owned their own place and it was that decision that prompted him not to hire anyone under the age of twenty-five.

Risqué was legit and the dancers could hold their own, no one was taken advantage of or exploited here. The patrons were happy with the display of flesh and at the end of the day that was all that mattered to them.

Blaser knew that at one time Brianna had dreams of Julliard and greatness, but he hadn’t been able to deliver those dreams for her. After her parents had taken off and she started stripping, Blaser had sought out Gary, Bri’s brother and blamed him for Bri needing to go out there and sell her body to support herself. It turned out that Gary had been in the dark too and the men ended up talking and coming up with their own plan to look after her. Well, it wasn’t long after that he stole his first car, then it became habit.

He knew it was illegal and knew that his parents would be disappointed if they found out about the chop shop he ran with Gary, but back then he hadn’t cared. It was about keeping Bri safe and making sure she never had to sell any part of herself to anyone just to get by.

Prison put a stop to his criminal ways. He had broken up with Bri before he came to the conclusion that he could do better in his life. Once he did, he cut all ties with his previous associates and decided to go straight. On leaving prison, he bought Risqué with the financial help of his brothers, who backed him on the proviso that he kept his nose clean. It had taken a lot of hard work to get himself to where he was now, and he had no intention of putting all of that to waste by sliding back into what so many considered an easier life.

Buying Warner Autos happened at the same time he left prison. He got it at a discount from his cousin because he promised to manage Mattie’s apartment block which was right next door. So with two businesses of his own, and shared responsibility of managing Mattie’s apartment block, Blaser was a busy guy. Gus was Mattie’s brother and another Warner cousin, he managed the lion’s share of the work at the apartment complex and Blaser just picked up the slack.

Risqué had become his life and he loved spending time here. He hired men to take care of things at Warner Autos and with Ivy answering phones, ordering parts, and doing paperwork, he had less to do with the garage these days, meaning he could devote his time to Risqué.

Content that the club was secure, he exited through the rear staff door and locked it up too. He zipped his leather jacket, dug his hands into his pockets and began to mentally list the things he had to do tomorrow as he trudged down the alley behind the club. Two paces beyond the dumpster, he heard a sharp inhale that made him pause.

‘Quiet, you fucking ‘ho,’ a low male voice grumbled.

Blaser glimpsed the movement of a shadow further down the alley to his left. Peering closer, all he could make out was the shape of a large guy, dressed in dark clothes that made his form difficult to decipher. The shadowy guy raised his arm, there was a slap and then a female exclamation of pain before a body collapsed to the ground between the shadowy guy and the club wall.

‘Rafe wants you taught about disrespect,’ the shadow snarled and dropped out of view behind another dumpster that was further down.

Stalking forth to see what was going on, the scuffling sounds got louder the nearer that Blaser got and were soon joined by muffled female objections. More definition grew in the shadow man who was sprawled on top of a body, hiding its identity, all Blaser could make out were naked female arms and legs.

‘Hey!’ Blaser said, storming over to haul the shadow up from the ground by the back of his neck.

The guy swore and lashed out to loosen Blaser’s grip from his jacket, then he spun around to try and land a punch, but Blaser blocked it and got in one of his own. The shadow staggered back, giving Blaser his first real chance at interpreting a physical description. He noted blonde hair, angry eyes, and a scar intersecting the perpetrator’s brow. Bloody scratches on his neck and face joined the blood now seeping from his lip, which had been split by Blaser’s punch.

Widening his stance, Blaser prepared to get into a brawl, but the blonde male shadow spun around and bolted off. Giving chase briefly entered Blaser’s mind, but around here you never knew what you were dealing with. Drugs were rife, prostitution and gangs too, this was a shady part of town. So even if he caught up with the guy, Blaser wasn’t going to call the cops, that just wasn’t how things went down in this neighbourhood and he wasn’t going to visit trouble on the club.

When the attacker vanished out the end of the alley, Blaser turned his attention to the woman on the ground and immediately wished that he’d done more than just split the perp’s lip. At five-five, with streaks of blonde in mousy brown hair, Blaser knew just who this woman sitting on the cold asphalt outside of his club in the wee hours was. She kept her face down, giving him a view of the jagged parting in her hair. Her reluctance to lift her attention only betrayed that she recognised him too.

‘What I should really do is ask if you’re ok and then take you to the hospital,’ he said, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the woman still sprawled on the tarmac. ‘What I’m actually going to do is ask you if you’re fucking insane.’

She twisted her legs to look at a scrape on her calf then lifted her rear from the ground to try and wriggle her skirt down. Her hand rose, indicating that she wanted help up, so he took it and pulled her to her feet.

‘Thanks,’ she said, smoothing the skirt that barely covered her ass. The flash of her midriff carried on up to her breasts which were covered by a red halter top.

‘What are you doing here, Bri?’ he asked while reminding himself that she was no longer his to scoop up off the ground and into his arms.

‘I need your help,’ she said.

Tossing her hair back, she revealed the bruising on her cheek, the blood on her chin and the fullest, softest lips he’d ever known. She still didn’t look at him, she twisted her body to examine a cut on the back of her upper arm: doing everything she could to put off the moment that she’d have to meet his eyes.

‘You don’t need my help,’ he said. Being near her again was still surreal. He still hadn’t quite worked out how to act around her now that their relationship wasn’t sexual, as it always had been before. ‘You never need my help. Does Gary know that you’re here?’

That question vanquished her delay, and she chose this moment to blink her long-lashed eyes at him. ‘Blaser,’ she said. ‘You know that my brother is in jail, exactly where you put him.’

‘I didn’t put anyone in jail,’ Blaser said. ‘Your brother mouthed off to an undercover cop, that’s how he got himself into the slammer this time. Let’s not kid ourselves that Gary is an upstanding member of society. He had this coming.’

‘You don’t know everything, Love. You don’t know what’s going on or why I’m here.’

‘Don’t call me that,’ he said, backing away and taking his hand out of hers. If she opened those floodgates and got him thinking that this was just like the old days, he didn’t trust himself to act like an ex without full privileges should. ‘And don’t do that…’ He lifted his hand toward her face then thought better of touching her again. ‘Thing.’

‘What thing?’ she asked. Her step in his direction only made him take another backwards.

He ignored the question because she already knew the answer; she knew exactly what she could do to him with a flutter of those lashes. ‘What are you doing behind my club at three in the morning, who was that fucker who had you pinned? What did he want?’

Bri took in a short breath and panted it out. ‘It’s a long story, I was waiting. I didn’t want to come in because… I didn’t know if Colt would be there. I thought I would catch you out here, and we could talk.’

‘What do you want to talk about at three in the morning?’

‘I need a job.’

‘You need a job?’

‘I need money,’ she said. ‘So yeah, I need a job.’

‘What kind of job do you think I’ve got for you?’ he asked, sorry that his first thought made his eyes fall onto her legs.

‘I don’t screw people for money,’ she said, folding her arms under those pert little tits that he remembered too well. ‘That’s your department.’

And the spite in her tone was enough to cool his desire. ‘Oh, ho,’ he said, exhaling his own frustration and turning on his heels to begin moving away. ‘I’m not having this fight with you, Dollface. It’s late and I’ve had a long day.’

‘You’ve always had a long day,’ she said, snatching something up from the ground then scurrying up at his side. ‘You’ve always been a workaholic, even since before you actually had a legit job.’

Brianna and he had a history that was Shakespeare meets Tarantino. As many tragic episodes as there were comedic ones, they’d seen bloodshed together, been at drug crazed parties, had wild sex in crazy locations, and been arrested together.

The criminal underworld was his stomping ground when he hung with his own team, and at the head of that team, at Blase’s side, was Brianna’s older brother Gary, his once upon a time best friend. But all of that had changed when Blaser went to prison.

‘That’s a different fight,’ Blaser said, striding out of the alley to head towards home. ‘Can you pick one fight and stick with it? I’m not in the mood to flip back and forth between them. I’m not sure I’d be able to keep up.’

‘You saw what that guy did to me, Blase, what he was going to do to me. You stopped to help me because you didn’t want him to hurt me.’

‘I didn’t know it was you.’

‘Are you saying that if you had, you wouldn’t have helped me?’

He stopped, struck to the very core at that implication. ‘If I had known it was you, I would’ve gone back into the club for my gun.’ Protecting her was the first goal he’d ever set in his life.

‘That’s because you love me.’

Her smile begat his, because as much as she was teasing him and trying to win him over, he feared that her declaration might actually be true. ‘How much money do you need?’

‘No,’ she said, losing her smile and shaking her head.

The bag that she had slung over her body shifted, so she pushed it away from her hip and rested it on her spine. It was then that he noticed she was carrying another bag over her shoulder. Two bags might not be much, but he took the larger of the two – the one that she had across her body – and lengthened the strap to fling it over his own torso.

‘No?’ he asked.

‘I will only let you give me money if I earn it. You know how I feel about something for nothing.’

As far as he knew, Bri had never owed anyone a real debt in her life. ‘I’ll call it in later when I need something,’ he said, knowing it was unlikely that he ever would.

‘By which time I might be married with kids. I don’t think that my husband will like the idea of an ex-boyfriend calling me up and demanding sex.’