Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Hudson
“ A nything?”
I look up at Atlas as he walks in and shake my head. “Not yet. I’ve looked into the ones we’ve identified, even the ones Kenzo already cleared, and I can’t find any links to any of us.”
Atlas walks over to the minibar and pours us both a glass of whiskey before handing me one and sitting in the chair behind his desk. I stay on the sofa with my notes spread out around me.
“What about the guy with the duffle bag?”
“His name’s Mace Downy. Runs the new gym on the other side of town.”
“That explains who he is, not what he was doing in my club with a gym bag.”
“He teaches some classes at the Y for underprivileged families?—”
“What kind of classes?”
“Self-defense for the women and kids, boxing, and shit for the older kids trying to avoid joining a gang.”
Atlas nods in approval, and I continue, “He supplies the equipment. He brought the bag into the club because the last time he left it in the trunk of his car, it was stolen, and that shit isn’t cheap to replace when you’re doing the classes for free.”
“His car was broken into here?”
“No, the bar was around the corner, but he didn’t want to take any risks. Apparently, Dec on security checked the bag before he entered to make sure there were no weapons and gave him the all-clear.”
“And nobody thought to ask Dec before?”
“His wife went into labor. He’s been at the hospital with her. There were some complications, but both mom and baby are okay now.”
Atlas nods. “Tell Dec to take a couple of weeks with full pay.”
I nod, my lips twitching as I look back down at my notes. I can’t exactly say Atlas has gone soft since marrying Ivy and having Iris, but the man does have a soft spot for children. He loves his wife, and he adores his little girl.
“This Mace guy, he come here before?”
“Twice. He was seeing one of the strippers.” I shuffle through the papers beside me to check the name. “Mary-Ellen,” I say, looking up at Atlas.
At his frown, I chuckle.
“Diamond.”
“Ah. Well, Diamond knows better than to bring her boyfriends around here. We have that rule for a reason.”
“I know, and I’ve told her you’ll want to see her before she goes on tonight. She said she only had him come here because he made sure she got home safely. She’s been having some problems with her baby daddy.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Apparently, he’s been harassing her. Running his mouth and using his fists while threatening to take her boys from her.”
Atlas growls. “She here now?”
I nod. “She came in an hour ago with a few of the others to work on some choreography. Whatever the fuck that means.”
He pulls out his cell phone, presses a button on the screen, and waits for whoever he’s calling to answer. “Send Diamond up to my office.” He hangs up and takes a swig of his whiskey.
“You talk to this Mace guy?”
“Nope. Kenzo did, that’s why I’m here watching the club. He said the guy seemed on the up and up. Kept his cool even when Kenzo got up in his face. Kenzo tried offering him a job working for him.” I grin. “The guy told him to fuck off. That he’d be a hypocrite, trying to keep the kids out of trouble if he just walked right into it.”
Atlas snorts. “That’ll just make Kenzo want him even more.”
“Kenzo said the guy was adamant. So don’t be surprised if he torches his gym, forcing him to get a side job to pay for the repairs.”
Atlas grins like the psycho he is.
A knock on the door has us both turning. “Come in,” Atlas calls out.
The door opens to reveal a nervous-looking Diamond. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“Close the door and have a seat.”
Diamond does as he asks, tension radiating off her. She walks over to one of the chairs facing the desk. She’s dressed in workout clothes instead of the usual sequins and feathers, but that doesn’t stop her from putting a little extra sway in her hips.
For the most part, the women here know and respect Ivy, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t poised and ready for when Atlas gets tired of her and starts looking for a new favorite.
“Mace Downey,” Atlas says when she sits down.
I hear her gulp from here. “He’s just a friend.”
“I don’t want to hear your bullshit. No friend hangs around until three a.m. unless they’re getting something from you.”
“And this is why you don’t have friends,” I mutter under my breath, earning a glare from Atlas.
“There are no boyfriends or just friends you like to fuck welcome on my premises when you’re working. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” He pauses for a moment, leaning back. “The father of your kids, he still in the picture?”
She rubs her hands on her thighs and nods. “He has visitation rights every other week, so I can’t just take them and run,” she whispers, making me sit up and watch her.
“He a good dad?” I ask.
She hesitates before answering, “Yeah, he loves them, gives them everything I financially can’t, and shows up on time.”
“That doesn’t make him a good dad. That makes him a dad. That’s what’s expected of him—bare minimum. A good dad wouldn’t threaten the mother of his kids or put his hands on her. And I can say this because I’m a shitty father.”
Her eyes fill with tears. I get the impression she’s one of those moms who bites her tongue around her kids so she doesn’t paint their father out to be the bad guy, as his words and actions slowly kill her.
I look at Atlas, whose eyes are on me. He nods. “Give me his name and address, and I’ll handle it.”
She bites her lip, hesitant, but her love for her kids outweighs her fear of Atlas. “If you threaten him, he’ll blame me and take me back to court. He has more money than me. He’s a lawyer, like his father and brother. That’s how he walked away without paying a cent in alimony and kept the house and cars.”
We wait her out until she sighs. “Adam Monnet. He lives in a gated community over on Beckett.” She grabs a pen and Post-it note from Atlas’s desk and writes the address down before handing it over to Atlas.
“Did you cheat?” Atlas asks her.
She shakes her head. “I know what people think. I take off my clothes for money, so I must be a whore. But I don’t do it for me. I do it for my kids. So they have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. I’ll sacrifice my pride every single time just to see them smile.
“But I am not a whore.”
I smile. I like her. “This one’s on me,” I tell Atlas.
I don’t do many jobs for free, but sometimes I like to give back a little. We all have skeletons in our closets, but sometimes those bones are better off buried ten feet under us.
“There won’t be any blowback. But don’t bring any more boyfriends here. If you have an issue, you contact one of us.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“You can go.”
She jumps up and hurries to the door, pausing in the doorway before turning and looking back, her eyes landing on mine. In that moment, I know she sees more than she should. That I’m more than merely a driver for her boss.
“Thank you.”
I incline my head and wait for her to leave.
“You turning into a softie, Pete?” Atlas asks, holding up the Post-it note.
“Yeah, that’s me. I’m a changed man,” I say, gathering my notes into a pile before standing and walking over to take the address from him.
He chuckles. “Let me know when it’s done. I’ll make sure security monitors her.”
“I’ll do some recon, but it won’t be tonight. I have plans.”
“Plans that don’t involve murder?”
I laugh, shoving baby daddy’s address into my pocket. “I might be a gun for hire, but we both know out of the three of us, I’m the sane one. Fuck knows what that says about you.”
“Got me the girl though.” He smirks, looking smug as fuck. “How’s that working out for you?”
I glare at him.
“Ah, she’s your plans for tonight, huh?”
“It’s her birthday.”
“Ah. The big one eight. Just think, when you were her age, her mom was probably just learning how to swallow.”
“You’re one to talk. Pretty sure you robbed the cradle yourself.”
He grins unrepentantly. “And I have zero fucks to give. Advice, though—you might want to limber up. These young ones can be very bendy.”
“Fuck, I miss the days when I used to wonder if I’d walk in and you’d shoot me just for looking at you wrong.” I sigh.
He laughs as I head to the door and yank it open.
“And stock up on energy drinks,” he calls out as I slam the door behind me.
Everyone’s a fucking comedian.
I grab a beer from the fridge and pop the cap, taking a couple of mouthfuls before setting it on the counter.
When the doorbell rings, I grab my wallet and head down the hall to answer it. I open the door and pull out some cash to hand to the delivery guy before taking the bag.
“Thanks, man.” The guy smiles when he sees how much I’ve tipped him.
Giving him a nod, I close the door and carry the bag of food to the kitchen. Placing the bag on the counter, I start pulling out the containers. I pause when I hear the door open and close again, followed by muffled voices that get louder as they approach. Both Abbot and Starling appear in the doorway. Abbot notices the food and walks right in, while Starling hesitates, trying to avoid me, I guess. Unfortunately for her, that’s not going to work.
“What’s all this?” Abbot questions.
“Birthday dinner. I don’t know what you usually do, but I figured I couldn’t go wrong with Chinese.”
Abbot turns to look at Starling, as if waiting for the green light.
“Thank you, Hudson. I don’t usually celebrate my birthday, so this is nice of you.”
Yeah, that’s me, Mr. Nice Guy.
“Come eat. I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a bit of everything.”
I open the containers so they can see what’s inside as Starling walks into the room and stands beside Abbot. She takes the box closest to her as I open the silverware drawer and place a few forks on the counter. She reaches for one and digs in as Abbot grabs a fork and container of food for himself.
“So, how was school?” I ask.
They both look at me as if I’ve grown a third nipple.
“Yeah, okay, it sounded weird even to me. Anything I need to know about?”
“No, Dad, everything’s fine,” Abbot answers.
I look at Starling, but she just nods. I don’t force the issue. She won’t say anything in front of him, so I let it go. We eat in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. Well, maybe it is for Starling, but she handles it well enough.
Once we’re finished eating, I head to the fridge, pull out the cake I picked up on my way home, and slide it onto the counter. It’s nothing fancy, just a chocolate fudge cake with Happy 18th Birthday piped across the top in white icing.
I don’t bother with candles, but I do hand her the knife.
“Happy Birthday, Starling,” I say softly.
She blinks at me in surprise before her eyes drop to the cake once more.
“Well, go on. Cut it.”
With a shaky hand, she cuts a piece. I hold out a paper plate, and when she places the cake on it, I pass it to Abbot. He watches as she cuts two more pieces, one for me and one for herself.
Lifting the fork to her mouth, Starling takes a bite and lets out a moan that has both me and Abbot looking at her. She flushes and quickly looks away. Taking a bite of my own piece, I listen as Abbot tells me about football practice and some new wonder kid that’s supposed to be joining the team. Starling stays quiet the whole time, her focus entirely on her cake as she savors every mouthful. It’s a good cake, but it’s not the best I’ve ever had. I can’t help but wonder if the look of awe on her face is because it’s from me or because birthday cake isn’t something she gets from anyone else.
“I actually have something for you too Abbot.” I pull the set of keys from my back pocket, surprised he hadn’t said anything about all the birthdays if his I missed over the years.
“Oh yeah?” He looks up from his cake just in time to catch the keys I throw his way.
He stares at them for a second before he sprints toward the front door.
I smirk when I hear him curse. “Holy fuck.”
Starling follows him out but I stay where I am, cleaning up the mess.
When they both walk back in, Abbot has his arm thrown over Starlings shoulder and a huge grin on his face.
He looks at me, hesitating for a moment. “Thank you. The truck is awesome.”
“You’re welcome.”
They both head upstairs to do homework. While I’m alone, I take a moment to finger the ribbon on the gift I bought for Starling, before hiding it back in the pantry until I can give it to her alone. I wasn’t sure what she’d like, but I wanted to get her something. She needs to get used to me buying her things. Money isn’t a concern for me like it is for her. I’m not trying to sound conceited—it’s just a fact. Luckily, I’m able to buy what I want when I want. So if I want to spend my money on her, I will.
Instead of heading out like I usually do to keep my distance, I head to the family room, figuring I might as well watch a movie. There isn’t much else to do, and at this rate, I’m not sure they’ll even come back downstairs. I opt for a classic and put on Heat . I’ve seen it a dozen times, but the chemistry between Pacino and De Niro is outstanding.
I’m halfway through the movie when I hear a noise. Reaching for my gun, I mute the TV and listen again, trying to figure out what I heard.
A soft moan has me squeezing the handle of my gun. I lean back, open the app on my phone, and watch Abbot fuck Starling.
He’s gentler with her this time. He murmurs words too low for me to hear, but there’s a closeness that wasn’t there before. And I don’t like it one fucking bit.
Knowing he’s fucking her is one thing. But this… this looks suspiciously like love, and that I can’t have. I knew she had feelings for him. In fact, I was banking on it. But I didn’t take into consideration that he might have feelings for her too, not when he came home the other day reeking of sex.
I close the app, turn off the movie, and make my way upstairs to my bedroom. I take a cold shower and pull on a pair of boxers before lying on the bed.
I need to corner Starling alone, but she’s been hiding out with Abbot, and I’ve been letting her. Well, that stops now. If she thinks avoiding me will keep me away, she has no idea who she’s dealing with.