Dirty Dealers Read online

  He turns to me and holds out his hand for another shake. “Hey, thanks for stopping by, and Logan? Do me a favor…”

  “What’s that?” I ask, holding his hand a beat longer.

  Our hands release, and he scrubs it through his hair. “Convince her to move home.”

  “I’m on it,” I say with the same level of conviction I used when I promised Rowan I’d protect his wife.

  He’s back onstage and the trio starts in with a more lively song. They have a drum machine, and the girls start dancing, waving their arms and letting their skirts flip up for his benefit. It’s a great gig for a good looking kid his age.

  Kass turns to me and pulls my arm. She has my complete attention as I lean down. “Can we go now?” The heaviness is back, and I’m ready to get to the bottom of it.

  “Of course.” I take her glass and mine and place them on the edge of the bar.

  She’s holding my arm, her body close at my side, as we make our way through the café that’s grown more crowded since we arrived. I like having her near me this way. It’s where I want to keep her always.

  Outside she waits as I ready my bike. It hasn’t started to rain, but a fine mist is in the air. It coats her cheeks, making them glow in the lamplight.

  “Rain,” she sighs, lifting her face to the sky.

  I can’t help myself. I straddle the bike and pull her to me. “We need to talk,” I say, sliding my hand over her damp skin and cupping the side of her face before giving her a lingering kiss.

  Her hand moves to my neck and she holds me, opening her mouth to deepen our kiss. My tongue finds hers and the smoky scotch I drank mixes with the faint sweetness of her. She’s delicious and sexy, and I want her with me tonight. I don’t want her in any position where she might slip away like Cameron said.

  “Ride in front of me.” My voice is thick, and I help her straddle the bike snug against my chest.

  I take a slow speed, extending the time we’re together, knowing I’ll have to head back to the palace soon after we reach her apartment. The noise prevents us from talking, but my face is at her temple. I can’t stop kissing her as we ride. I’m intoxicated and desperate for her. I breathe in the clean scent of her perfume mixed with the metallic flavor of rain wrapping around us. I kiss her head, and she tightens her grip on my arms.

  When we arrive at her apartment our hair is wet along with our clothes. I don’t pull up at her door. Instead I guide my bike into the shadows, down the alley where we’re hidden from sight.

  She sits straighter, arching her back against my chest and turning her head so our mouths can meet. She cups my face, and I hold her stomach, moving my hands under her wet shirt, higher to the lace of her bra.

  Her skin is hot, her nipples peaked and straining beneath the fabric. I pull it down, squeezing her breast before pinching the beaded tip. She moans into my mouth as our tongues entwine.

  I’ve pushed her bra completely up, kneading and teasing her breasts. She sighs and moves against me like a wave, her hips rock and her ass scrubs against the aching bulge in my jeans. I want to fuck her hard.

  Our mouths part, and I exhale a groan. “Jesus, Sass.” I release her breasts to quickly unfasten her jeans. My arm is a band around her waist, and I lift her against me so I can slide my hand down her bare pussy and sink my fingers into her throbbing core.

  “Logan!” she cries, rocking her hips against my hand. “Oh… yes…”

  I can’t take it. I lift her off the bike and move us so her back is against the alley wall. She’s feverish as me, her hands moving over my shoulders and biceps as I frantically unfasten and lower my jeans.

  A slight lift and a drop, and I sink deep into her clenching insides. We both groan, and I can’t stop. I’m driving faster, claiming her hard and furious. I hold her hands against the wall above her head, palm to palm, and our fingers twine. Her legs are tight around my waist, and she’s meeting every thrust I make, gasping and moaning.

  “Logan,” she cries, and I feel the tremors of her orgasm start. It only makes me move faster.

  “Come for me.” I lean into her, my mouth at her neck. “Come…”

  I give her a kiss, a gentle bite, and she shudders. My hands go down, and I hold her hips, working her clit against my waist. It only takes moments before she shatters, jerking and arching her back to pull me deeper.

  Her nails cut into the skin on my arm, and I hold her securely as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. My eyes close, and I don’t hold back. I release with a shout, riding the intense pleasure as her inner muscles massage and milk me.

  She’s coming down, and I hold her so close. I vaguely feel her fingers on my neck, her soft lips kissing my cheeks, my beard. I can only hold her tight against my chest, my head resting on hers.

  We stay that way several long moments, pressed against the damp brick, sharing our breath. I feel a drop of rain against my cheek, and I know the clock is ticking on my ability to stay much longer. I have to say this before I lose my chance.

  “I don’t want you to leave.” It’s a low rumble right at her ear.

  She starts to move, and I relax my hold, allowing her to stand on wobbly legs. She reaches down to straighten her clothes. I quickly do the same.

  “I don’t want to leave.” Her voice is resigned. “But I have commitments. Old debts I have to repay.”

  “I can pay your debts.”

  Her head shakes and her eyes don’t rise from my chest. “You can’t. I have to do what I can to make things right.”

  I don’t understand what she means, but my phone buzzes. I can’t stay any longer. “Let me walk you to your apartment.”

  We leave the bike at the corner, and I go with her to the metal door. Once we’re inside, we climb the narrow flight of stairs. Again, I’m frustrated by the lack of security and poor lighting, although I suppose the amount of light makes no difference to her.

  We reach her door, and she hesitates. For a moment she wavers, but then her jaw sets and she pushes the key in the lock. I glance around the tiny apartment. Against one wall, her queen-sized bed is neatly made, and against the other is a small table with two chairs.

  “Very clean,” I say, and she seems to relax.

  “I don’t need much room.”

  “I want you to lock these bolts after I leave and don’t go out again.”

  Her slim brows pull together, and she purses her lips. “You’re worried I’ll go out again?”

  “Just… Don’t.” I say, and she shrugs. I’m not finished. I gather her in my arms. “And don’t leave Monagasco without telling me.” Her chin drops, but out of habit, I duck my head to catch her eyes. “Promise me, Sass. I need to know you’ll be here tomorrow.”

  She blinks rapidly, not returning my gaze. The sadness is back. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I know it’s either Rowan or Freddie. I’ve got to return to the palace. “Please,” I urge, tightening my hold around her body. “Say you’ll talk to me before you do anything.”

  She slides her hands up to touch my cheeks, and when she speaks, her voice is soft. “Promise me you’ll always remember our night on the beach… or me in your bed that first morning. Or tonight in the alley… Remember me loving you.”

  My chest aches and my phone buzzes again. “Say you’ll be here tomorrow.”

  She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me. I kiss her back, pushing her lips apart and claiming her mouth. My hands move into her hair, and I hold her to me, attempting to transfer all the strength of my feelings into her heart.

  Another buzz, and I have to go. “Lock the door,” I say, firmer this time. “Be here in the morning when I come back.”

  She nods touching my hand, sliding her fingers through mine.

  It’s not complete relief, but I’ll take what I can get for now. I kiss her hand and step through the door, waiting on the other side as I hear the bolt click into place, the chain slide across its metal track.

  Tomorrow I’ll have more time. I’ll make her tell me everything, an
d we’ll see what debts can’t be repaid.

  Failure

  Kass

  I rest my head against the door listening to the sound of Logan’s footsteps growing quieter as he descends the stairs.

  Oh, God… Tears fill my eyes. It’s very possible I’ll never see him again. Still, I have to follow through. I have to do what I can to stop the chain of events my coming here set in motion.

  My body is sore in the most wonderful way as I peel off my clothes to shower. At the same time, my heart is broken. “Oh, Logan,” I whisper, wishing with every ounce of strength I possess I could change my life, go back in time and make different choices.

  But I can’t.

  I have to focus on making this right.

  Going to my dresser, I feel inside for the soft twill of my black pants. My system for keeping types of clothes in separate drawers helps me find what I need for tonight—long black pants; next drawer down, long black sweater; two drawers up, heavy canvass belt. I step into my black boots and pull a stocking cap over my pale hair. A small dagger is in its custom leather holster in the top drawer.

  Lifting it, I slide the steel weapon from its sheath. It’s a double-edged, pointed knife that fits in the palm of my hand exactly the way I was holding my keys this afternoon.

  Blix calls it a push dagger, and ironically, he gave it to me when I first started working with him five years ago. He had thought I was too petite. He said I was too beautiful, and he worried one of the guys might try to rape me.

  I was able to see the strange weapon when he gave it to me. I remember the night he showed me how to use it. My eyesight had only just begun to fail, and it was easy to hide from him. Now my fingers touch the braided leather handle, and I see it in my memory. From tip to tip it’s only two inches long, and carved into the blade are the words “Best Pal.”

  “Keep it in your belt when you go out with them,” he’d said, showing me how to clip the sheath inside my waistband so only the flat handle extended above my pants. “If one of them tries anything, wait until he’s on you. Then jam it straight into his neck, front or back, and he’ll go down.”

  At the time, the idea had nauseated me. Now I savor the thought of using this little tool. Without hesitation, I clip the holster inside the front of my pants and start for the door. I order an Uber car, so I don’t have to bother with carrying money, and I give the address of a drugstore near the edge of the city.

  Blix is hiding out at an abandoned villa. I can’t see it, but from what I understand the exterior looks like a dilapidated old ruin with ivy and vines covering the turrets, and arched window frames extending over black holes.

  The driver lets me out and I wait until I hear he’s gone. I had listened closely on the plane as Blix gave Taz and Dev directions on how to find him. He didn’t care that I was listening. He still thinks I can’t get around on my own now that I’m blind. He’s so stupid. I know to walk three blocks east and then five blocks south and I’ll be there.

  While I changed at my apartment, I heard the downpour release outside, and I hoped Logan made it home before it started. Logan… The memory of his strong arms, his embrace, his kiss, filters such sadness through my chest.

  I love him.

  I have to let him go.

  The rain has subsided, but the air is still heavy and smells of the sea. The streets are quiet, but I use my clicks to avoid walking into light poles or benches. Echolocation opened the world to me, especially since a cane would be a death sentence. Talking signs are another useful invention, helping me in the crosswalks without anyone’s notice. I count each block until I reach my destination. The reduced noise of traffic tells me I’m far from the busy center of town. I’m in a place were only homeless people or criminals would go, and I carefully proceed forward, off the pavement and onto what feels like vegetation growing over sand.

  I continue walking, and I have to trust it’s dark enough for me to stretch out my hand. More clicks, and I start to get the echo. A tall structure is ahead of me, and it sounds like stone.

  “This must be the place,” I whisper to myself.

  Sure enough, in five more paces, my fingers encounter a wall covered in ivy. I place both hands on it and follow the perimeter, careful of where I place my feet as I search for the door. It isn’t long before I come to an opening.

  Click click, I hear the hollow of a large, empty space. It’s the way inside, and I slide my foot forward to be sure there isn’t a fallen rock or hole to greet me as I enter. Solid floor is under my feet, and as I step inside, I smell moldering wood. A drop of water lands on my cheek, and I pull back, flicking it away in disgust.

  “No telling where that’s been,” I mutter, looking up. I can’t see it, but I’m sure the roof is full of holes, or missing.

  My boots crunch on sand, and in another step I kick what sounds like a board across the smooth floor. It’s helpful, because it allows me to hear how open and empty the room is.

  “Now what?” I wonder, moving my head as if I’m looking around. “Blix!” I shout as loud as I can. “Blix are you here? It’s me Kass!”

  For a moment, I wait. In retrospect I took a big chance coming here. Who’s to say he’s hanging around waiting for someone to find him? Still, it’s after eleven. Where else would he be?

  “Blix!” I shout again. “I need to talk to you. It’s me Kass!”

  The space seems quieter as the echo of my voice disappears. I’m breathing fast, inhaling the pungent scent of mildew, the earthy smell of plants growing over ancient rocks, the fresh scent of rain.

  The complete and utter insanity of what I’m doing here tries to invade my mind. Fear rises in my stomach and my resolve slips. I fight my survival instinct pushing me to run away, to get as far as possible from Blix and his horrors. I fight my nerves telling me I can’t see, I’m not strong enough.

  I’m here for Cameron, and in a way, I’m here for Logan. I can’t do what Blix wants me to do, and after his surprise appearance in my apartment today, I know the only way out is to do what I’m doing right now. I will be strong. I will get close enough, and I will finish this job my way. I’ll stop him… even if it means—

  “What are you doing here, Kass?” Blix’s voice echoes in the darkness.

  I don’t jump. I don’t scream in terror. I center my thoughts, control my breathing.

  “I need to talk to you.” My voice is clear as a bell in the darkness.

  “Is that so?” He’s moving closer, but I don’t hear footsteps. It’s unnerving to have him approach without warning. It reminds me of old stories about spirits or ghosts haunting abandoned castles. He’s a demon. “It must be very important for you to come here. Why are you dressed all in black?”

  “So no one would see me come in, of course.” Cocky is my best attempt at confidence. “I’ve always followed protocol.”

  “Protocol says you should call before showing up unexpectedly.” He touches the side of my cheek. “Otherwise, you might find yourself shot.”

  “Shot?” Again, I’m doing my best at confidence. “That isn’t your preferred method of dealing with intruders. It’s over too quickly.”

  He actually chuckles. “You know me so well.”

  My insides are tight. I’m in physical pain from the fear gripping my muscles, but I hold my shoulders straight, my face level. My fingers tingle, and in my mind’s eye, I see my hand moving fast to my waist, curling around the short handle of the knife. One swift uppercut, and the blade will sink deep into his neck, ending his life. I focus all my energy on making it happen. I just have to get close enough so I don’t miss.

  “Why are you here? What couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  With a measured inhale, I allow a trickle of the nervous energy coursing through my body into my voice. “I-I screwed up. I didn’t know what to do, so I came here. I knew you’d tell me what to do.”

  As anticipated, his voice flat lines. “What do you mean, you screwed up?” He’s back at my side, and I know he’s on th
e brink of clicking into torture mode.

  “I got too greedy. I wanted Logan to spend the night with me, and I guess… I guess I pushed him too far. He said we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

  I’m blinking fast, wringing my hands together, waiting to see if he’ll take the bait. He’s quiet a moment. I can’t see his eyes, but I know he’s sizing me up, gauging my body language. My one advantage is Blix truly thinks my mental strength disappeared along with my sight.

  He takes a step back. Another breath passes then he chuffs out a disgusted laugh. “More like he realized what a pile of shit he stepped in getting involved with a blind girl.” The words sting, but I go with them.

  “Maybe that’s it.” I shake my head. “All I know is he changed. He doesn’t want me, and I need you to help me fix it.”

  “What the fuck do you expect me to do?”

  “Well…” My heart is lodged in my throat, but I push through the pain. “I thought maybe… maybe you could coach me. Tell me what to do to get him back.”

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking—”

  “You’re a man…” I lower my voice and step to where I feel his body heat radiating. Reaching out, I slide my hand up the front of his shirt. He flinches, but doesn’t pull away. I keep going. “You’re powerful like he is.” Another step closer, and my face is at his shoulder.

  “I’m more powerful than fucking Logan Hunt.” Blix’s voice has grown thick, and I’m betting everything on that one time he told me I was beautiful.

  “Then it should be easy for you,” I whisper, allowing my lips to touch the side of his jaw light as a feather. “Teach me.”

  Everything stills. The air is razor sharp, and I’m holding my breath. The rhythmic tapping of rain begins on the roof above, and my hand starts to move. I slide my palm down the front of his shirt to his belt, over the buckle to the distinct bulge I feel in his jeans. God, give me the strength to go through with this.

  I slide my hand up and down the bulge once… twice… and I hear his breathing change. Closing my eyes, I move my hand from his dick to my waistband, ready to close my fingers over the handle of the dagger.