18. Parker #3
He looked out the front windshield, probably to hide as much of his smile as possible.
“He’s on his way to belligerent and still cleaning house.
I can see how that kid could do well in business.
Shady motherfucker, but I could see it. Also,” he swung his head toward me, and his hazel brown eyes sparkled.
He was eating this up. “The house has noticed. They were on their way to him when I came out to get you.”
“Fucking hell,” I groused and got out of the car. The staff in the US was less intense than the clubs in South America. They had to be. But it didn’t make my life any easier when they caught someone gaming the system.
“That’s my cue. Call me for the next job.” Gio flicked his fingers in farewell and peeled away, heading toward the back of the field.
“Fucking hell,” I repeated when I made it inside. The main floor was hedonism at its finest. Bare asses were bouncing, wet dicks were swinging, and the air was filled with a symphony of squelching noises and light torture.
I fought against my sneer. Public sex was my thing but on my terms. When it pissed someone else off. This mess was just a room for the primarily old and wealthy to get their rocks off with the young and desperate.
A few of Maikel’s people spotted me and I smirked. This would be an in-and-out thing only. No time to stay, definitely no time to play. After the LA club, it was unlikely they wouldn’t be on the lookout for me, but one could hope.
Waltzing through like I owned the place, I went down to the gambling floor. It only took a second to find Joaquin. The admittedly beautiful man was backed into a corner with a haughty smile and his hands up. He didn’t look blitzed, but the closer I got, the more pronounced his swaying became.
“You’re counting cards. That’s against house rules.” One beefy man with two brain cells that couldn’t even rub together, slammed Joaquin against the wall.
“Really?” It was impressive how his voice was so strong. The sign of someone who handled their liquor well. “Can you prove it?”
The beefy man’s face started to turn red, and the other guard beside him, who looked like he had at least graduated high school, tapped the burly guy’s shoulder. “This is the manager of Isaac Kim and Atlas Jones,” he said in a hushed whisper. “We can’t kill him.”
Joaquin smiled wider, one side tipping higher than the other, and a devious light slithered through his eyes. “That’s such a shame too. I would hate to take advantage. I’m only the manager. You could break at least a finger.”
“Damn straight, we’re breaking a finger. And a leg. You don’t exactly have to walk out of here; just have to be breathing.” The beefy man gave him another shove for good measure.
A new, more intelligent guard stopped at the top of the stairs, watching me as he spoke into his radio. Time to wade in. They were on to me, and I promised Andre I wouldn’t cause any more trouble.
Looking at Joaquin, I almost regretted that promise. He seemed like he’d enjoy my kind of fun.
“Gentlemen,” I greeted as I fell against the wall, crossing my arms. Recognition rolled over the second guard. Not great. Hopefully, he’d just know who I was and not why I shouldn’t be in the club. “Is there a problem?”
“This man is code orange,” the beefy man complained.
“Yes, I can see that would be an issue.” I swept my gaze over Joaquin. He smirked, not showing any signs of regret. “However, this is one of my associates. I’m afraid I’m going to be taking him off your hands. Don’t worry, he won’t be cashing in his chips.”
A spark of anger ignited, and Joaquin’s brows slammed low over his eyes. “Like hell. We’re not doing this again.”
Ignoring him, I tipped my head toward the two guards. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s properly punished.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“That’s Parker Adair. He’s one of the enforcers,” the second guard tried to whisper, except this floor was much quieter than the level above, so I heard every word.
The change in the first man was instantaneous. He dropped his hands and stepped back, fear catching the man off guard. It was good to know that my name still struck fear in the hearts of my enemies when necessary.
“As I said, your assistance is no longer needed. I’ll make sure he leaves.” I flicked my fingers at them in a shooing manner, and they backed away with barely an offended expression.
The men here were weak—nothing like the men we’d had to fight at Lafe’s warehouse.
“And you,” I said, catching Joaquin by the shoulder as he started to slump. “What do you think you’re doing? Didn't our little chat penetrate at all?”
As I pulled him away from the wall, he swayed. I glanced toward the stairs and the guard with the radio was gone. That could be a good thing, or a very, very bad omen. Let’s hope it was good.
“What’s ut to you?” Joaquin slurred his words a little stronger. So the alcohol just hadn’t had time to kick in yet.
“You’re in the club of the very competition I want you to take out,” I said out of the side of my mouth. There would be microphones and cameras everywhere. I didn’t need to alert Maikel to my plans, but I also had to explain to my potential business associate why he couldn’t be here.
“I’m checking out ta competition,” he grinned and leaned into me.
Readjusting my grip on his nape, I sighed. We’d have to discuss this more in-depth when we got in the car. This was pointless inside.
Marching him out was easier than I had expected. He was reasonably good at shuffling one foot in front of the other. Still, I slowed us down once we reached the main floor.
What do you know, a familiar face in the crowd of debauchery. I’d only seen pictures, never met him in person. This should be a treat. Just wait until I tell Andre.
Redirecting us, I scanned the room for the guards, but none were in sight. It could be they didn’t know what I’d done in LA. Or it could be that they anticipated me sticking around a little longer and had called for reinforcements.
Agent Cash Morgan, one of my brother’s Feds who took the rule book and set it on fire before happily stomping all over the bitch, wasn’t alone. He had a petite woman next to him. Not as tiny as Little Love but not too much bigger.
Where Little Love was doll-like in her features and frame, this woman was built for sin. Not my type. But then again, to piss Vicente off, I didn’t have a type.
Two men, one on the less distinguished scholarly side and the other on the psychotic brutish spectrum, crowded her.
Her body language said exactly how much she didn’t appreciate the protective gestures; however, she didn’t step away from them.
Or bristle at their touch when they had a brief conversation.
One that stopped as soon as I was within speaking distance.
“Morgan.” I wanted him to know his identity wasn’t secret from me.
“Park,” he said, using the name my brothers called me when they weren’t gunning for my throat.
“What brings you here? This isn’t your typical scene.” The spotlights started switching between colors as they moved around the room. “Aren’t you supposed to be missing? I’m pretty sure my brother told me his favorite Fed was gone.”
He shrugged, failing at his attempt to hide how much “missing” agreed with him. “Not missing. Just…reprioritized my life.”
His top priority raised one golden-brown eyebrow at me. His other priorities didn’t appreciate me being so close to their woman. Interesting. Very interesting, if I was reading them correctly. “And found better company, I see.”
The muscled man met my stare with an empty one of his own. Similar to Vicente’s, yet somehow, less potent. Potentially because he had more of a soul than that man did.
Morgan snickered.
The way the three men positioned themselves around the woman spoke of lovers. All three had fucked her. The question was, whether together or through spaced-out flings?
Her tawny eyes blinked up at me, as she licked her plush lips. She knew how to play the game. Surprisingly, that didn't do a damned thing for me. A more authentic and rawer woman was akin to my tastes now.
“Hmm, hello, pet. Have we met before?”
The skinny man let out a small growl and I grinned. He was possessive.
“Is this your club?” she asked in a sex-soaked voice.
I let go of Joaquin, and he started to tip sideways then caught himself. He must feel the deadly energy of the circle he found himself in. His eyes were beginning to clear as he scanned his eyes between our new friends.
“You could say I have a vested interest in it, yes.” I peered back at Morgan. Had he shared how I was connected to Maikel? Did his friends even know who owned this club? Under Vicente’s orders, Maikel didn’t make a habit of spreading his organizational structure up here.
“Assume they know what I know,” Morgan confirmed.
Fantastic. “Then you can say this is a branch of the family business.”
“Though not your branch,” Morgan called me out.
Well, well. Looked like Morgan had done his homework. The times I’d interacted with him, I didn’t believe it had come up in conversation, since everything had centered around giving them fodder for their fame and success. He’d be surprised to know how much I—and Andre—knew about him as well.
“What brings you here?” he continued.
I huffed out a laugh. Might as well stick to the story.
If he knew we’d had a falling out with the head of the Institution, he wouldn’t be so laid back.
“Maikel is on the shit list at the moment, and I had to come deliver a message. I also had to collect this pendejo .” I nodded at Joaquin, purposely not introducing him.
“I have big plans for him, and he can’t deliver if he’s wasted and in debt up to his ears.
His brothers would be very unhappy.” I glared at him so he’d know how serious I was.