Sizzle (12 page)

Mak leads us past the front room and down a large hall before we enter a formal dining room. I can’t imagine being this rich. There are four table settings. Alex hangs back at the door and I shuffle a bit to the side to stay close to him. He kisses my cheek. “Madison will get you settled after you eat. I should be back within a few hours. Relax and get some rest. If you’re asleep, I’ll wake you.”

Madison stops a few feet from us and joins the conversation. “I have the room made up next to ours. She’ll be comfortable.”

“She’ll be staying in my apartment. I’ll have her bags delivered there.”

An irritated sigh escapes Mak. “It would be helpful if you would relay this information before Gabriella does the extra work.”

Alex pulls me close and whispers, “Ignore her, she’s pulling my chain.” I don’t have time to respond because he kisses me. On the lips. In front of Moon and his wife. I’m mortified, but too overwhelmed by the kiss to do more than return it. The man has wonderful lips and he knows how to use them.

An angry half-growl comes from the hallway. A middle-aged woman holding a large covered platter is standing there giving me a very unfriendly look. Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun. She’s shorter than me by about three inches. Her dress is a plain lime green with a white apron tied around her waist. Her shoes are serviceable and something I’ve seen nurses wear.

“My pardon,” Alex says as he pulls me from the entrance of the room. “Gabriella, this is my friend Celina. She’ll be staying with us as my guest.”

“Señorita,” Gabriella replies with vengeful eyes.

Alex ignores her obvious dislike of me. “I have business to attend, but I’ll take a tamale to go and eat dinner after I return.”

Gabriella turns her wrath on Alex and gives him a blast of unhappy Spanish. Alex releases me and takes the tray from Gabriella, though she tries to stop him. He sets it on the sideboard, turns back, and takes Gabriella into his arms. “You love me,
corazón.”

Gabriella blushes and pushes him away while mumbling in Spanish. Alex turns and grabs a cloth napkin. He lifts the cover from the tamales, takes one, and folds it inside the napkin. He winks at me and walks out of the room. Moon has seated Mak and pulls out the chair across from her for me. He waits patiently while I decide if this is a good time to run.

Gabriella clears her throat and because I’m afraid of her, I walk over and take the offered seat. I’m still dressed in my white shorts and blouse—completely out of place in these surroundings. Mak is in a loose, flowy pair of red cotton pants and a striped white and red tunic-style top. They are not as formal as the clothes she wore earlier today, but they are classy. I, on the other hand, look like a discount store shopping reject.

Moon walks over to the sideboard, lifts the tray of tamales, and carries it to the table. I have no idea what to do, so I just sit while he takes the seat at the head of the table. Gabriella returns shortly with another tray covered in fresh vegetables—chopped tomatoes, lettuce, avocado, and small colorful chopped peppers. The smell of tamales reminds me how hungry I am.

“Thank you, Gabriella. Why don’t you join us?” Strangely, Mak’s lips quirk when she asks. After another string of Spanish from Gabriella, I understand why.

“Would you care for wine?” Moon asks after Gabriella marches from the room muttering.

“Yes, wine please,” I tell him. I actually need something stronger, like a gallon of moonshine, maybe.

Mak, who’s now smiling full out, tries to reassure me. “Gabriella is that way with everyone she meets. Don’t let her get to you. She has a heart of gold and is very loyal. She also cooks the best food I’ve ever tasted. Help yourself. We don’t stand on ceremony, even when forced to eat in the dining room. It’s an argument I’ve yet to win with Gabriella.”

“She really didn’t like me.”

“Well, she defended you to Gomez and told him not to mark up your lovely skin and turn you into a tramp. Or at least that’s what I think that word means.”

My hand immediately covers my neck and upper chest in mortification.

“Madison,” Moon says sternly.

“Well, I think Gabriella has a point. The whole ‘me alpha male’ thing goes a little overboard around here. I’m surprised you men don’t lift your legs regularly and mark your territory. At least it could be cleaned up right away and not take a week for the marks to fade.”

Maybe if I crawl under the table this will stop.

Moon looks at my red face and his expression softens. “My wife says what she thinks. It’s a curse of the women in my home. You are our guest. Please drink some wine, eat, and relax.” The very corner of his lips tip into an almost smile and I rethink which man is hotter. Moon’s not-quite-smile is sexy as hell. I take a sip of wine to try to keep my pink face from going bright red over my thoughts.

“We will find your niece and bring her to you. The waiting is the hardest, but we do not want her endangered when we take her. My wife believes these things can be done quickly. The safety of your niece is the priority.” He turns to Mak and arches his eyebrows.

“I know you’re right, I just don’t need to like it,” she grumbles. Her eyes meet mine. “Tell us about yourself. Gomez mentioned you attended State College?”

I’ve figured out that Gomez is Alex. The fact that I’ve done very intimate things with a man without knowing his last name makes my cheeks burn brighter. The only way I can get myself out of this is to start talking. Moon and Mak ask questions. They are non-invasive and light. I feel myself relax after the second glass of wine. The tamales are out of this world and I mean totally out of this world. I would keep Gabriella around, bad attitude and all, just for the tamales.

When dinner is over, Mak shows me to Alex’s apartment after giving me a quick tour of the house. Alex’s rooms are located off an entrance from a changing and shower area that leads outside to the pool. She asks if I want to swim, but I turn her down. I need a shower and a bed. My head is spinning slightly and exhaustion doesn’t come close to describing how overwhelmed I am.

My bags are inside Alex’s door. Mak points down the short hallway. “His bedroom is through there and the guest room on the other side. Sleep where you feel comfortable. Do you need me to stay here with you until Gomez returns?”

I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’ll take a shower and rest if I can.”

Mak flushes slightly and for the first time since I met her, she appears nervous. “Was Gomez angry when he got to your motel room?”

With everything going on, I’d forgotten about Alex busting into the room. “He was furious. Why on earth would you tell him I was with a client?”

A devious smile settles over her face. “These men are at the top of the food chain. They’re stubborn to the point of giving me near homicidal tendencies. If you demand something, they’ll do the opposite. If you call them on something, they dig in their heels. I’ve learned to navigate shark-infested waters with finesse. If you’re smart, you’ll do the same. If not, Gomez will eat you alive. I’m giving you a heads-up because you’re a strong woman or you wouldn’t be here.”

So many feelings run through me. “I don’t think I’m as strong as you believe. I’m actually a wreck.”

Mak places her hand on the doorknob. “Given the quick decisions you made and the fact you didn’t curl up into a ball shows how strong you are. I told you I was a cop. It defined who I was for a long time. I had to make some hard decisions and now I’m married to a wonderful man who does bad things. I do them too. I look the other way sometimes and participate others. This is my life now and there’s no going back. Gomez is also a good man and he’s lethal. He’ll protect those he cares for without question.”

I cringe at the word “lethal” and Mak catches it.

Her voice hardens and I see the Mak who wore a gun and badge reflected in her eyes. “Don’t mistake what’s needed to get your niece back. You know the DC weren’t going to hand her over. That’s not the way they operate, and a child her age will fetch more than a quarter mill on the market. Anyone who would sell a child deserves what they get.”

She’s right. “I know.”

“Keep your spine straight and you’ll get through this and so will your niece.” Mak turns the knob and leaves me alone.

I look around and regret that Alex isn’t here with me. I quickly explore the apartment. Two bedrooms, three bathrooms—
excess anyone?
—an amazing kitchen, and a state-of-the-art entertainment system in the living area. I place my bag in the guest bedroom and use that bathroom to take a shower. Afterward, I put on an old T-shirt. I don’t even care that it’s not sexy. It’s soft and comfortable and exactly what I need to relax enough to sleep. I picture the sadness buried deep in Alex’s eyes and wonder what he’s doing right now even though it’s best that I truly don’t know.

Alex

I PARK THE SUV INSIDE
the warehouse beside one of our black Caddies. SUVs are great, but an actual trunk is needed to conceal a body, even if it’s a live one. The Caddies are also lower to the ground and take sharp turns better if you need the speed. Moon’s vehicles are modified with kick-ass engines and bulletproof glass. I tend to drive the car that fits my mood. Every so often it’s the Bugatti. It’s flashy and draws attention, which means I can’t have nefarious plans like I do now. Maybe I’ll take Celina for a nighttime desert ride in the Bugatti.

Blevins and Juan are standing with Rack by the door to the back room. I walk over and give the nod to the first two men. They get lost quickly. Their shift ended at six and they have vehicles waiting outside. The two men who relieve them will come to the warehouse district when this shit is finished.

“What condition is he in?” I ask Rack.

“The worst is a broken wrist. I’m sure the cuffs attaching him to the chains are painful. He knew how to roll the bike, so no head trauma. The last time I checked, he was awake and pissed off.”

I open the door and stand looking at my victim for a full minute. Countless dangerous men have hung from these rafters. Sometimes they are too big of a pussy and we provide a chair. Dandridge was that way. Dandridge was a weasel who needed to die. He’s also the idiot who Madison caught with his dick in a prostitute’s mouth the first time I met her. With men like Dandridge, the fear more than the pain gets to them and they pass out before the fun even begins. This guy’s shirt is off and his tats are prominent. His corded muscles are bulging from the strain to his shoulders. He doesn’t carry the bulk I do, but you can see his strength in the definition of his body. He’s lean and mean. From the T-shirt tan, I would guess he works with his hands—construction most likely. He’s also as tall as I am.

My gaze meets his. His eyes boil with rage, which will do him little good once I start. I see no fear and I’m under no misconception that he’ll be easy to break. Good. I need to exorcize a few demons myself. This jackass poses a danger to Celina, and he’s part of the shit MC who would harm a small child.

I close the door behind me, carry my work bag across the room, and rest it on the floor by the sink. I shuck my suit, place it meticulously on a hanger, and zip it into a plastic bag that I hang from a hook on the wall. I remove a new pair of neatly folded jeans from my bag. When I’m done with this scum, I’ll restock my bag with several new pairs of jeans and additional gloves. This is a bloody business and it’s how I roll.

Going through the preparation ritual sets off the images. They begin rolling through my mind like a choreographed symphony. They always begin with smiling or laughing faces of the people I’ve loved and lost. The good memories first. They change slowly as does my craving for the methodical violence that’s about to go down. Vengeance is always mine and the show must always go on.

I pull on the gloves, smooth them over my flesh, and flex my fingers. I also pull out the smaller medical bag and rest it on the counter. A little girl’s life is on the line and I don’t have time to play. The scum’s wallet and a pocketknife are resting in a shoebox on the utility counter. I quickly flip through the worn bi-fold leather. It holds a debit card, two twenty dollar bills, and his license. Dax Jonathan Montgomery—thirty years old. Beneath the license is a creased picture of a beautiful young woman. The look of utter happiness on her face captivates me for a second. I shake it off and toss everything back into the shoebox. His possessions will meet the incinerator when I’m done.