9. Go Down
Chapter 9
Go Down
MARCO
“ Y ou find anything?” I asked as I paced in front of Cole’s desk.
His typing didn’t stop, and he didn’t look away from the screen. “For which research?”
I raised a brow, assuming that meant he had something for one of them. “Either.”
“No.”
“Then why’d you ask…” I shook my head. “Never mind.”
The elevator pinged out in the waiting room, and one of the monitors on Cole’s wall automatically clicked on. Since only a few people could access the floor with their fingerprint, I was unsurprised to see Freddy.
I was pissed, though.
As soon as he stepped in the doorway, I scowled at him.
“How did I know you were going to be a shortsighted ass about this? You’re lucky I left my restaurant to fall to shambles without me before you two assholes did something stupid.” Freddy crossed his arms as he followed my movement with just his eyes. “Which I see was the correct choice since you’re even more fired up than I expected.”
I paused to shoot him a glare before resuming my steps. “No woman should be trapped and freaked out, but especially not an employee. And not when we’re standing in the same goddamn restaurant. So, yeah, I’m fired up like I always am when some dickhead touches a woman.”
“No. Any other time it happens, you handle it like business as usual and calmly break fingers, a nose, whatever. I saw you both haul a guy out a couple of weeks ago after working him over with Ash, and you looked bored. Not prowling around like a restless tiger stuck in a cage.”
My steps stilled, but that just proved him right.
It was different because it was Callie.
Sweet Callie, who didn’t cower or avoid me like everyone else in the place.
Who smiled shyly and tried to tuck her hair behind her ear even though she always wore it in a cute braid.
Who offered me a drink or food, even knowing I always said no.
Who worked her ass off with a genuine smile, made corny-as-shit jokes, and always helped the other servers even when they’d hang her out to dry for an extra five-buck tip.
Who was far too fucking young for any of us, except maybe Freddy. And since he was her boss, it was still wrong.
Freddy’s smug expression said he knew he had me. He turned to Cole next. “And lemme guess. You pulled Benson’s file and are trying to trace his phone’s location.”
Cole raised his focus to flip him off.
“Not to spoil your fun, but you won’t have to go far to find it. The dumbass left it in his locker during his quick exit.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Or he did a leave-behind because he’s hoping that by the time he comes back to get it, you’ll have cooled off, and he’ll keep his job.”
Freddy’s expression darkened. “Not fucking happening.”
It’s different for him, too.
I glanced at Cole, his typing growing faster as he punished the keyboard in his frustration.
Him, too.
Gonna be a clusterfuck.
“I still can’t believe you let that fucker waltz outta here,” Cole bit out.
I had the same damn thought.
Freddy raised his hands palm out. “What was I supposed to do, send him to The Basement?”
“Yes,” Cole said.
“ Fuck yes,” I echoed.
The Basement was what we called the bottom floor of Moonlight. It was where we took people who tried to screw over Maximo or Black Resorts. They still walked out of there, banged up but breathing.
Usually.
I had no clue if Freddy’s fingerprints were included in the ones allowed onto that floor, but if he had the access, he never used it. Only Maximo, Ash, Cole, and I did.
“With the FBI watching Ash and possibly you all?” Freddy threw an agitated arm out. “You really want to take that risk?”
A pit formed in my gut as I realized he had a point.
After Ash had gone to pay off a debt owed by his woman’s mother to a creepy-ass cult, he’d landed on the FBI’s radar. Chasing his woman through a packed courtyard while an agent had spied on him hadn’t helped the situation.
And it really hadn’t fucking done him any favors when Mila’s bitch mother had turned up dead the day before—just one day after he’d publicly threatened her.
Even with Elliot—a former Moonlight security guard—squealing details to the FBI, Ash had a wealth of alibis and evidence to clear him.
It didn’t mean the FBI or cops had backed off completely, though.
For all we knew, Eternal Sun was also watching, waiting for leverage to get an in with Maximo.
No matter how much that punkass who’d touched Callie deserved it, hauling him down to The Basement was a risk. If it were just me, that’d be one thing. I’d do it in a heartbeat and flick a one-fingered salute at anyone who might be watching. But it put everyone in a vulnerable position, including Ash and Maximo. And since Maximo’s business dealings weren’t all above board…
Cole—shockingly—didn’t feel the same hesitation. “Ash already said to go for it. He doesn’t want to leave Mila, and he’s disappointed to miss working someone over since it’s his favorite perk of the job. But he said we can swing by for one of his kits if we think we’ll need to sedate the bastard.”
“We don’t—” I started.
“That’s what I said. It’s one guy against the two of us.” He looked at Freddy. “Maybe three of us.”
“We don’t want to bring more attention to us, Ash, or Black Resorts,” I finished. “Benson will have to wait.”
“But—”
“We go after him today, who knows who follows. And it’d be hard to deny it’s us.” I looked back and forth between the heavily tattooed chef and the muscular nerd. I didn’t have to see a mirror to know I wasn’t blending in. “We’re not exactly nondescript. Give it a few weeks. Wait for the heat to back off Ash. Then we pop in on Benson with a friendly lesson that he didn’t learn in kindergarten about keeping his hands to himself.”
Cole stabbed a finger onto his keyboard and leaned back in his desk chair. “Fine, if you both want to be logical about it. Which, I’d like to note, is usually my job, so stay in your lane.” He kicked his legs onto his desk and used them to swivel the chair to look at where Freddy flopped onto the couch. “How’s Callie?”
“Strong. Says she’s fine, which makes me wonder what she’s been through because she honestly didn’t seem shaken. And Benson is a big fucker.” He gestured to me. “Not superhero-sized, but still towers over her tiny height.” His lips curved. “Finally found out what I did to piss her off, though.”
“What?”
“I got married.” At our lost expressions, he nodded. “I know. I was shocked, too, since that seems like something I’d remember.”
“I warned you about drinking,” Cole said.
“No, you warned me about smoking. The drinking is fine.”
I had no fucking clue what they were talking about, and I didn’t try to follow along. It was one of many—conversations and other things—that were between them. “The marriage?”
“Thanks to a miscommunication, she was under the impression I was married to Juliet.”
“Don’t let Maximo hear that,” I warned.
Cole backed me up. “Miscommunication or not, just the idea of it would make him homicidal.”
“Do I look like a fool?” He held up a finger. “Don’t answer that. Anyway, maybe now that she knows I’m not someone’s ball and chain, Callie will stop pretending I don’t exist.”
Seeing the warmth on his pretty-boy face, I pointed out, “You don’t date restaurant employees.”
As far as I knew, he didn’t date at all. He worked.
Cole noticed the look, too, and his own expression went tight.
“And you don’t date Black Resorts employees,” Freddy shot back. “Either of you.”
He was correct.
I spent a shit-ton of my time in the Black Resorts properties with Maximo or on Juliet duty. It’d be stupid to risk my peace by bringing personal drama to that.
Yet there we fucking were.
Cole echoed the sentiment. “But we’re willing to change that.”
It wasn’t a question, but Freddy lifted his chin.
I did the same.
“Shit.” Cole rubbed his palm down his face. “Isn’t this the point when we’re supposed to say some bullshit about bros before… women and agree to back off?”
“No, because we’re adults and not pissy fifteen-year-olds,” I said.
“We need to play it carefully, then.” He dropped his legs and sat forward. “If she feels like a prize we’re competing for, she’ll start pretending none of us exist. She can make her own decision for one of us. Or none of us.”
I thought about how easily the tech nerd could blow up our lives with a few mouse clicks, giving himself the advantage. Freezing bank accounts. Photoshopped shit. Hell, he could easily create realistic bullshit social media accounts for us in his sleep.
Like when he’d trolled Freddy by making it look like the chef ran a Facebook page to fanboy Dame Judi Dench.
At least, I was pretty sure it was a prank.
“And we’ll play fair,” I added, staring down the devious asshole.
He gave a single nod. “A gentlemen’s agreement.”
Freddy scoffed. “Fine, but where are the gentlemen in all this?”
Cole’s gaze cut to him. “That means none of your made-up stories.”
“But true ones are on the table?”
“Yes. And that includes that Mardi Gras from seven years ago… with pictures.”
Freddy’s amusement died. “How about we just focus on ourselves?”
“That’d be smart.”
Cole looked away to type something, and Freddy opened his mouth like he wanted to say more. He closed it again, dropping his head onto the top of the couch to look up at the ceiling.
When he did, Cole glanced over with a matching expression of something unsaid. It turned into a scowl as he went back to what he was doing.
I had no fucking idea what was up between the two of them. A blind rat with its eyes closed could see they were into Callie. It could also see they were into each other, too. The only ones who couldn’t seem to see it were the two of them.
It wasn’t my business. They would work it out themselves.
Or not.
That was on them. They wouldn’t drag Callie into it and hurt her, but if it seemed like it was inadvertently headed that way, I’d happily slap some sense into them. Beyond that, I was watching it play out with everyone else.
Because if they thought it was a secret in our group, they were mistaken.
Freddy opened his eyes and looked at his watch. “I need to get back down there.”
“How’d everyone react to the new after-shift policy?” Cole asked.
“Mostly positive. A few people bitched, but that’s on them. It’s not our fault if they want to be the slutty teens at sleepaway camp who investigate the noise on make-out hill.”
After Ash shared that his lawyer suspected officials were sticking their heads up their asses about the rumored serial killer, we’d immediately retooled security for the late-night employees. Shift changes for the bulk of the four Black Resorts properties happened earlier in the evening, but the restaurants closed late. It wasn’t a small undertaking, but it would keep people safe.
Unless they were dumbasses.
The list that Greg had sent of the addresses for the Parisian Crescent shuttle hadn’t included names, so I asked, “Was Callie a bus rider?”
Freddy kept his face blank. “Yup. Why don’t you run to offer to drive the shuttle? We’ll wait here.”
“So she drives.” I started for the door. “I’m heading home anyway. Might as well go offer to walk some people to the garage.”
“How uncharacteristically nice of you,” Cole said as his computer beeped.
“Hey, dickhead, I’m nice.”
“You’re a sullen asshole who barely talks to people.”
“When I have nothing good to say, that is the nice thing. Haven’t you heard the saying?”
He stood. “I’m inspired. I’ll help, too.”
“ Bordel de merde, this is going to be bad.” Freddy got to his feet and into our faces. “Do not fuck with my restaurant. If I lose good employees because you’re jealous pricks, you’ll regret it.”
“What, you’ll tattle to Maximo?” Cole asked in a teasing voice.
“No. I won’t cook for you. Ever .”
It was a powerful threat.
Cole’s smile dropped.
If I’d been smiling, mine would’ve done the same.
By the time we got down to Parisian Crescent, most of the guests were gone and the staff were starting their end-shift checklists.
Freddy moved to the area he used for recipe development to do the same.
Cole and I helped because standing around to stare at Callie would make us creepy dickheads. That didn’t mean we didn’t look.
We did.
Enough that it probably still bordered on disturbing.
After seeing her start, abandon, then start a different sidework task for the dozenth time, I muttered, “Think she might’ve lied about not being shaken.”
Freddy turned with a burner grate in one hand and a dirty cloth in the other. “What? Why?”
I relayed the chaotic way she was working her way across the server area.
His shoulders loosened as he returned to what he’d been doing. “That’s nothing new. She’s always a little tornado after a long shift. Everyone has their own process. That’s hers.”
Not taking his word for it, I walked out to her station. Like most of the other servers, she’d changed out of her uniform before doing the end-of-the-night tasks. Her jeans hugged her ass as she bent to grab more cloth napkins from the cabinet. She began wrapping one around a silverware set before pausing mid-roll to clean a spot on the counter. “You good, Callie?”
She jolted and whipped around, the utensils clattering to the ground. “Oh goddess.” Her face scrunched as I picked them up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to attack you with projectiles. What did you say?”
I kept a careful eye on her when I repeated, “You good?”
“Yes, why?”
“Making sure.”
Her expression softened as her cheeks flushed.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
I want to block her from the world.
Keep all that soft to myself.
“I’m fine. Honestly,” she assured.
I continued studying her for a few more beats and saw she was telling the truth. She wasn’t fazed by what’d happened earlier with Benson. Other than getting startled by me, she was happy doing five tasks at once.
Maybe she chugs coffee to get through the night.
I’ll tell Freddy to keep an eye out. That much caffeine ? —
My thoughts cut off when I realized I was beginning to sound like Maximo and Ash.
Or Cole, though he’d always kept things casual.
Unlike them, the Daddy thing wasn’t my style. I was demanding and controlling like one, but I didn’t do strings or labels. Certainly not that one. I didn’t have the ability to care and nurture the way that role required.
But, again, Callie was different.
Before I did something jacked up—like telling her to call me Daddy to test it out—I got the fuck away.
“I think she drinks too much caffeine,” I said when I went back to helping seal the prep containers.
Cole tilted his head toward the big specialty machines Freddy had shipped from France. “If she’s having even one of those, it’s too much.”
Freddy frowned. “I’ll keep an eye out.”
I wasn’t surprised by Cole’s response.
Freddy was a wild card. I had no clue what he was into other than cooking.
Almost everyone was gone by the time Callie got through her checklist and was clocking out. As soon as we saw her tapping the screen, Freddy, Marco, and I froze.
And then we shoved our way forward, trying to get to her first.
“Not playing it cool here,” Freddy noted. “We keep up like this, it’ll fuck her over.”
He had a point.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “She had a shit day. We can play it cool tomorrow. Tonight, I want to make sure she’s okay and that the fucker isn’t waiting for her.”
“Same,” Cole said.
Freddy nodded. “Then we all offer to go down.”
He meant to the garage with her. I knew that. But, fuck, that wasn’t the way my brain took his words. An image instantly formed of my head between her thighs.
But not just mine.
The three of us, like he’d said.