Risk It All (Risqué #2) (5 page)

‘You want to help me?’ she asked after pondering him.

‘Where I come from, family sticks together and you know damn well that I think of you as family. That’s why you came to me, why you showed up at the club. You knew that I’d never turn you away, Dollface. Come on, don’t act surprised that I want to help, you came here because you knew that I’d insist on it.’

‘You always took care of me,’ she said.

‘Let me prove that I always will.’

‘What about the strippers, the dancers, do you take care of them?’

‘You’re not really asking me that. You’ve never been jealous of me being around other women.’

‘No, but I’ve always been able to stake a claim,’ she said. ‘We haven’t been together in six years. I can’t do that anymore.’

‘Do you want to?’ he asked and when her big eyes slunk up to his, he was worried that she might say yes. Then as soon as that concern popped into his head, he was more worried that she would say no.

‘Three hundred?’ she asked, ignoring his question. ‘Month to month?’ He nodded. ‘Ok, let’s check it out.’ With a shrug, they resumed their walk toward the apartments.

For most of his twenties, during their inseparable years, they had lived together in the very apartment complex that they were heading for now. They’d moved in at the same time that his cousin, Mattie, had bought the building back when Blaser was twenty-one. It had been rife with the drugs that Mattie was trying to sell and it became a sort of base of operations for the Warner family’s criminal element, of which Blaser was an integral member.

At the time, Blaser was careful about never letting that wicked world into their cosy little apartment. Protecting Bri against all of life’s evils was naïve of him because she’d seen life. Throughout her childhood her parents had used drugs, so it wasn’t like she didn’t know about them and their effects. But there was something comforting about playing house with the woman he loved. He wanted to believe that they could keep the illusion of virtue going in their lives.

Things were different in the building nowadays. The two storey complex had five units on each floor, each one leading off an open-air, communal balcony. Blaser resided in one apartment and Gus lived next door to him. Ivy and Dax had a unit, and Ruger did too though his was currently occupied by Suzette.

The other five units were filled by employees of the garage and security men from Risqué, most of whom were ex-cons. None of them had a history of violence against women, Blaser was particular about that. His choice of tenants turned out to be serendipitous because if Bri were in trouble, it wouldn’t visit her now; no one would want to mess with the characters who resided here. The apartment block bordered Warner Autos, and with a view over his garage he’d be able to keep an eye on her.

‘Tell me more about Erika,’ he said, trying to keep the conversation going on their trek to the apartment.

‘Her boyfriend borrowed money for drugs, he had a serious problem. Erika worked off some of the debt for him. Then he took off and the debt kept visiting her.’

‘The dealer wanted her working for him?’

‘Right.’

‘He’s a pimp too?’ Wrapping her arms further around herself, she nodded. ‘Then Erika took off so now they want you to work it off? Do you know where Erika or her boyfriend are?’

‘No,’ Bri said. ‘Rafe’s guys trashed the apartment when I wasn’t there. The landlord found the mess just after I did.’

‘So you got thrown out and that guy followed you over to Risqué?’

‘He works for Rafe, who’s the dealer. I told Erica not to get involved…’

‘Do you do drugs?’

She stopped in her tracks. ‘No,’ she said. ‘God, Blase, this is me. How can you ask me that?’

He started walking and she moved in time with him. The woman he knew Bri to be wouldn’t use drugs, but after the year she had had he might understand if stress had gotten the better of her. It was reassuring to hear that she still stood by the pledge she and Gary had made. After seeing what drugs did to their parents, the siblings promised never to travel that road themselves.

Passing a broken street light, he pointed to the apartment building separated from the sidewalk by a wide strip of grass and a row of vertical parking spaces. ‘Here we are. Is it like you remember?’

‘It looks exactly the same.’

It might look the same, but it was completely different. Gone were the drugs and the fights and the graffiti. Blaser and Gus had worked hard to get this place reputable and other than the ex-cons who lived here, the place was squeaky clean. And if the tenants wanted to stay then they had to keep themselves legitimate, it was actually stated in the rental contract that they had to refrain from illegal activities.

‘I’m in unit one now,’ he said, pointing to the bottom corner unit behind the external stairway. ‘Gus is in two, and Ruger’s in seven… when he’s here.’

‘You’ve graduated through the ranks,’ she said.

Unit ten had been theirs when they lived here together and that abode still held special significance with him. He would never be able to live there again, not without her. It was ridiculous because all of the units were the same layout, identical to the naked eye. But for him, number ten was different, he could still smell her there when he walked through the door.

‘I’m surprised that Mattie still has this place, he thinks of himself as a big shot now, doesn’t he?’ she asked.

Blaser smiled because that was an understatement. ‘Damn right he does and he’ll never let anyone forget it.’

‘The money in the family,’ she said as they crossed the grass and parking lot to head for his place. ‘He’s always been proud of that.’

‘Even when no one in the family is,’ Blaser said.

They still saw Mattie at the occasional family function, but it was rare because Mattie liked to think that it was all beneath him; that the Warner clan was beneath him. For the most part, the Warners were glad that Mattie stayed away because of his vocation and his superiority complex.

‘Colt was in number six,’ Blaser said. ‘The first unit on the top floor, right above mine. You’ll have a storage space in the basement, but I’ll have to check if Colt’s cleared it out. I’ll get you your keys tomorrow after I check it out. Rent is due on the first of the month.’

‘That’s in four days.’

‘Yeah, we’ll call these four days a free gift.’

‘You don’t have to do that. When I get paid I’ll—‘

‘We can work out the details tomorrow,’ he said. ‘My keys are in my jacket.’ She fished them out of his pocket and handed them over with a laugh.

‘You’re like a janitor, how many keys are on that thing?’

‘This isn’t even my biggest bundle,’ he said and her face lit in a smile. ‘Come on into mine, let’s get you cleaned up before we do anything else.’

Holding the door to his apartment open, he let her enter first. To the left was a kitchen with a circular table in the centre and the living room was to the right. At the back of the room was a corridor with doors to the bedroom, bathroom and rear communal patio. It was on the other side of that patio, beyond the chain link fence, that Warner Autos was located.

The garage building itself was forty feet from the apartment block and the yard stretched out sixty feet in front with a scrap yard behind. Cars had been his first love and he’d always tinkered whenever he got the chance. Being self-taught came in useful when you wanted to plead ignorance to the cops, he’d figured that out young.

When he got out of jail Mattie was the only one willing to give him a break. It helped that Blaser hadn’t ratted on any of his cousin’s enterprises or associations. So when Blaser asked for the garage, that they’d run the chop shop from, Mattie gave him the place at a major discount on the proviso that he’d help Gus manage the apartments.

‘Sit down,’ he said, gesturing at his leather couch positioned in front of his wide screen TV. Dumping her bag by the door, Bri followed suit and put the one she was carrying with it. She took off her shoes and made herself comfortable on the couch while he gathered supplies.

Taking a seat at her side, Blaser pressed an ice pack to her cheek. ‘This isn’t necessary,’ she said but held the pack in place while he cleaned blood from her chin and then drew down the sleeve of his jacket to clean the scrape on her arm.

‘I think that the blood on your chin was his.’

‘I bit him,’ she said.

‘You fought, I saw the scuffle. You’re going to have some bruises tomorrow.’

‘Do you think my new boss will ask questions?’ she asked. The glow of her eyes scorched through him. To prevent himself from leaning in and doing something stupid, he slid down to sit on the floor at her feet so that he could tend to the wound on her calf.

Brushing dirt from the edge of the wound, he tilted in to blow dust from the centre, she shivered and flinched away. ‘Don’t you kiss me,’ she said as though she’d read his mind.

‘No kissing,’ he said, clasping her leg and cleaning out the scrape. After he’d done that, he covered and bandaged the injury.

‘You’re very good at that,’ she said. ‘Have you played nursemaid recently?’

‘I have four hundred cousins,’ he said, exaggerating but probably only slightly. ‘We’ve got into plenty of scrapes over the years… that we didn’t always want our parents to know about.’

‘I remember,’ she said and hissed when he touched a sensitive spot. Her hand landed on his shoulder and she squeezed. ‘I’ve never liked the sight of blood.’

‘I don’t think that anyone is supposed to,’ he said. Sitting on the floor beside her legs he appreciated the view. It used to be normal behaviour for him to toss her leg over his shoulder and bury his face between her thighs. To prevent himself from doing anything so intimate, he moved away from her gripping fingers. ‘Any others?’

Twisting her legs toward him, she showed him a scratch on the back of her opposite thigh so he switched sides and gave it a clean before covering it. While he worked, he tried not to notice how high her skirt rode or the smooth, clear skin on her back.

His desire became curiosity when he noted the scar on her ankle. About three inches long it was jagged and so silvery pale against her pure skin that he might not have noticed it had he not been up close.

‘Where did you get this?’ he asked, running his finger over it.

‘Nowhere,’ she said, snatching her legs back and averting her eyes. The defensive anger told him not to push his luck by asking more questions.

‘Do you want to wear pantyhose tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Isn’t that against uniform policy at Risqué?’

‘I’ll make an exception,’ he said. ‘We have our weekly briefing tomorrow, it’s Friday night. If anyone says anything I’ll deal with it but I’ll tell Crystal in advance.’

In Risqué, what Crystal said went. Even the security guys bowed down to her, but that may have been more to do with her kickass figure than her service record. So if he told Crystal to accept Bri in pantyhose, then all the girls would.

He wouldn’t broadcast it, but he was wise enough to know that Bri could pretty much get away with anything where he was concerned. Something about her had snatched hold of him when he was young and it had never let go. His brothers always warned him against getting too close to her because her family were known as no good.

Blaser knew that they were only looking out for him, but he always thought that he knew what he was doing. As it turned out he’d fucked up the first half of his life and prison was what it took for him to get his shit together.

Colt always judged him and jumped to conclusions about what Blaser was involved in even now. Part of that was to do with the embarrassment that Blaser caused Colt, who at the time of his arrest was a vice cop. But it went deeper than that. Ruger, the youngest of the brothers, warned him too, but Ruger’s warnings felt more genuine.

As far as his siblings were concerned, getting involved with Bri meant getting involved with Gary and his crew again. After that, it would be a slippery slope back to his criminal heritage. So when Colt and Ruger found out that Bri was in his life again, back in every part of his life, Blaser knew that they’d have plenty to say about her being bad news.

But Blaser didn’t see things that way. Bri was independent of Gary in his mind, she had to be a separate entity given all that they had done together naked. This woman drew him in, and he was no stranger to pretty girls. It was more than a basic sexual attraction; that spark between them had always been undeniable. No, it was more to do with the fact that she acted as though she could take on the world, even though she had no one at her back to help her out and for some reason that fact irked him.

‘Wait here a second,’ he said and disappeared into the bedroom to fish out the keys she would need for the apartment above his. At the same time, he grabbed a sports bag and tossed a few items into it, then he returned to her in the living room.

‘I think this is ok,’ she said, putting the ice pack on the table and tentatively touching her bruised cheek.

‘Let me see,’ he said, tossing the bag to the coffee table and slipping the apartment key into her hand. Sitting down beside her, he tipped her head toward the light. ‘I don’t think you’ll get a black eye.’

‘Good,’ she said, curling delicate fingers around his wrist to draw his hand away from her face. ‘Do you need me to sign something?’

‘Don’t you want to see the apartment first?’

‘I’ve lived in this block before, I think we’re fine… and no offense, but it’s not like I have a lot of options right now.’

‘I haven’t had the locks changed yet. But I’ll get you new keys, ok?’ he said with a strong urge to reassure her. ‘Unit six is free.’ He extended a forefinger. ‘It’s the one directly above me. So if you need me, just stamp three times.’

‘Ok,’ she said, trying to lower her smile. His concern seemed to amuse her, but he elevated her chin with a curled finger.

‘You’re still not used to people being nice to you, are you?’

‘Not without an ulterior motive,’ she said. ‘What is it that you want from me?’

‘To be a friend. Just be good. Stay clean and out of trouble.’

‘I’ve never been dirty.’

Now it was his turn to grin. ‘I know for a fact that’s not true.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Drugs, I’ve never used drugs. I’ve seen what addiction can do to people and families. It’s not for me, no way. You know that.’