Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
MACKENZIE
T he club on the docks used to be an abandoned warehouse. It’s been completely transformed, and I can tell no expense was spared renovating it into the most exclusive adult club in St. Jude’s, attracting high-rolling clientele from all over the country.
A velvet rope guards the entrance where sharp-dressed bouncers check IDs. This hardly seems like Creed's scene. But things change.
I cross the parking lot, heading toward the entrance. A towering bouncer with a thick neck and muscular arms the size of my thighs, leans against the wall, cigarette dangling from his lips. He gives me a once-over, his eyes lingering a little too long.
“Hola, mamacita,” he says, pushing off the wall, a smirk displaying a flash of gold. “The line is that way. Although for you, I might make an exception.”
“Creed’s expecting me,” I reply sharply, ignoring that he's blatantly eye-fucking me.
“Well, if the Boss is expecting you…” he trails off with a smirk and steps aside, his hand creeping toward my ass. But before he can even graze me, I pivot sharply, causing him to freeze mid-motion.
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” I spit. “Your boss might not like it.”
He grins. “But I sure will.”
Asshole.
Inside, the air is thick with smoke and raw energy. The music pounds through the walls and floorboards as strobes of vibrant colors illuminate bodies writhing to the beat of Blinding Lights by The Weeknd.
I push through the throng of people until I reach a set of double doors guarded by two more muscular men whose heavily tattooed arms are massive enough that they could likely crush a skull between them.
“I’m here to see, Creed Torres?”
The taller guard narrows his eyes and rests a beefy hand on his weapon while his partner smirks, seemingly amused.
“Yeah? And you are?” The taller man asks.
“Mackenzie,” I shout. The two guards glance at each other. “I'm an old friend.”
“Go see if the boss is expecting an old friend , Nico.”
“If he isn't, I can keep you company,” Nico says.
I scoff. Typical. Men. Always ready with a grin and a bad pickup line.
“You're a real charmer, aren't you?” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
He smirks, then disappears behind the double doors, and I scan the club, taking in the extravagant decor. Too fucking bad it won’t be around for much longer, I smirk. It’s pretty impressive.
“What’s so amusing?” the remaining bouncer asks.
“Oh, nothing,” I say. “Just enjoying the view.”
The door swings open behind him and Nico finally returns, his expression serious.
“He doesn’t know any Mackenzie,” Nico says, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Oh, yeah? Well, I am not leaving until I see him.” I reach for my Glock, raising it to them before it occurs to me that these men are far bigger than I am. Resignedly, I fix them with a hard stare. Size has never been an issue before.
“Move out of my way,” I say, tired of these games, trying to brush past them with as much conceit as I can muster.
“Hey, are you sure you know how to use that? If you want to see the boss, you’re going to have to put that away.” Nico shouts, grabbing my forearm.
“Let her go in,” the other guy says, and I start down a hallway. They’re both hot on my heels now. “It's her funeral.” I hear Nico say.
The hallway is long and dimly lit as we head toward the back of the club. Heavy metal music blares through speakers. We stop outside a door at the end, Nico grunts something about regretting this, but I ignore him and push open the double doors.
The room is lavishly decorated; plush carpets on the floors and velvet curtains adorning all the windows. A few lamps cast soft lighting across the space. In the center of it all is Creed Torres, in the flesh - his broad shoulders rigid under ink-black tattoos, head thrown back as he groans in pleasure. A woman kneels in front of him giving him a blowjob. What an interesting reunion this is.
My lip curls as I approach, a slow burn of disdain twisting through me. Each step is deliberate, measured, but the weight of my glare isn’t enough to smother the cocky grin on his face.
He continues to thrust himself into the woman's mouth, her lips stretched around him in an almost painful looking way. I hate that I know that feeling. That I was once right where she is. He grabs a handful of her hair, pulling her flush against his pelvis as he finally shudders, coming into her mouth, while I clench my thighs together at the sight. He shouldn’t still have that effect on me. But he fucking does.
“Get out!” His voice sends shivers down my spine. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he meant me, but the woman quickly gathers her discarded clothing and rushes out of the room without a word.
Creed turns toward me with a smirk. “I wondered when I’d find you on my doorstep, Mackenzie. If I knew you were coming, I wouldn't have bothered wasting Tiff’s time.” I assume he means the girl he just sent away.
He gestures with a tilt of his head to one of his men, who pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers him one. He takes it and lights it up, inhaling deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air.
“We need to talk,” I say, keeping my voice low and steady.
Creed takes a step toward me, his gaze still piercing mine. I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I try to maintain composure in front of him. God it’s been so long and his proximity still affects me. “You know I'm not really much of a talker,” he says, reaching out to trace a finger along my jawline.
Gooseflesh spreads from my head to my toes. “Besides, you interrupted what would have been a very satisfying fuck. You remember what that was like, don’t you?”
I inhale sharply, his touch igniting something deep inside me. Of course, I remember, but that isn’t why I’m here.
“What are you doing back here, Creed?”
Creed smirks, “I don’t think I follow,” he says stepping closer, invading my space. He leans in and oh so gently brushes his lips against my cheek. It’s so light it’s hard to tell if they’re actually there if not for the shiver that runs through me. He pulls away to take another drag of his cigarette and blows out a puff of smoke in my face.
“Drugs. The fucking territory war your people are starting. I don’t need to remind you that you’re not welcome in St. Jude’s.”
“It’s not exactly a war when you’re on the winning side,” he smirks. “Don’t you want to be on the winning side, little demon?” He runs his lips against my cheek again, his tongue darts out and trails over my skin and I tremble. I feel him everywhere. I shouldn’t, but I do. This was not the plan. I was stronger than the girl he used to know.
“Consider yourself warned, then,” I hiss, moving my face but not getting enough distance.
“Now that isn’t a very nice thing to say now is, princess?”
“Really? Do you seriously think your little operation is going to survive in this town, in this country even? St. Jude’s fucking owns it all.” I hiss. My nerves are frayed as he comes face to face with me, our lips just inches apart, almost brushing against each other.
My breath hitches.
He laughs. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he hisses, his fingers tightening around my throat. The pressure constricts my breathing sending pulses of pleasure south, but I refuse to show him any sign of fear or desire. Maybe Jenson was right to warn me to stay away from him, to not make contact. But I had to. I should have known Creed would turn out like this. Like every other man in my world, all vile beasts, the epitome of wickedness.
With a surge of determination, I summon every ounce of strength within me and dig my nails into his arm, piercing his flesh until he finally releases his grip on my throat. The taste of victory fills my mouth, fuels my resolve. But it’s momentary because Creed only chuckles, grips my waist and pulls me in closer.
“Now, now, little demon, if I didn’t hate you as much as I do, I’d have you bent over that desk, my cock so deep inside you, you’ll feel it in your womb.”
The bitch of it? Part of me would have loved that, and he damn well knows it. The only thing stopping me from melting into his arms is the years of anger, betrayal, and sheer determination to see this through to the end.
“Fuck you, Creed,” I spit out, summoning every ounce of defiance I can muster as I wrench myself away from his iron grip.
“Oh, no, baby girl,” he growls, grabbing my arm again before I can walk away. "Fucking me is a privilege I don’t grant to whores."
“That so? Because it seems like only whores give you the time of day?”
“You know, Mackenzie, I’m not the man you screwed over. But just know this, I’m not going anywhere. We both know why, don’t we?”A twisted smile curls on his lips, his eyes gleaming with malice.
“Your threats don’t work on me,” I snap as I walk out. If he wants a fight, then that is exactly what he will get. I protect what I love, and I’ll burn the world to the fucking do it.
CREED
Ty's gaze bores into me from across the room, his barely restrained anger evident in his furrowed brow and tense jaw. That has always been my once best friend’s tell since we were kids. But we aren't kids anymore and his opinion doesn't matter. At least, that's what I keep telling myself as I fight the urge to look away, to hide from the disappointment in his eyes. We were like brothers once, so even though I pretend not to give a fuck, even though when it comes to Ty, I always will.
His gaze sweeps around my office, taking it all in. His lips press into a thin line. I can practically hear the judgment in his silence, and it makes my jaw tick. I grip the arms of my leather chair, feeling the cool, smooth surface beneath my fingers. After twelve years of unjust incarceration, I am going to do whatever it takes to provide for myself and maybe destroy the woman who put me there before taking back what is mine.
“What brings you here, Ty?”
“Heard you were out. Wanted to see how you were doing. And I guess this is what you're doing now, huh?” Ty shakes his head slowly. “You used to look down on Linc and those guys who made money this way. Now, I hear my cousin is one of your associates.”
I chuckle darkly at the irony of his observation, but the sound feels hollow in my chest. “People change. Priorities change. Especially when you’ve been robbed of nearly a decade of your life,” I reply dryly, my throat tightening around the words.
My words linger in the air between us like a fog, and after a long moment of silence, Ty sighs heavily. His face softens slightly when he speaks again, and for a second, I see a flash of the friend I once knew. The friend I refused to see while behind bars. “I get that, brother. I really do. But this... this lifestyle is dangerous. You could end up back behind bars - or worse.”
I sigh, fighting to maintain my composure as memories of cold cells and endless dark nights threaten to overwhelm me. I fought to get to where I am now and I won’t be judged for my choices. “I know the risks,” I say firmly, but my heart races at the thought of going back. We sit in silence for a few moments, the tension thick between us.
Ty crosses the room and takes a seat in the chair opposite me. “This isn't you, man.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I'm tempted to agree, to confess that I don't recognize myself anymore. Instead, I lash out. “What really brings you here? I didn't peg you for an addict or maybe you're looking for something sweeter than what you got at home? How is Veronica anyway?”
My best friend glares at me, and I see the hurt flash in his eyes. Guilt tries to gnaw at me, but I push it down. I can't afford to feel, not anymore.
“You're better than that,” Ty says softly. “And if you must know, I'm here because I missed you. We were brothers.”
His words hang in the air, and for a moment, I'm back in our old neighborhood, two kids with big dreams and unshakeable loyalty. Later, we were two young men starting an auto shop from the ground up. The memories ache like an old wound.
“How about you worry about yours, and I worry about mine, T,” I say, but the words taste bitter on my tongue. As Ty's shoulders slump, I wonder if I've finally managed to push away the last person who ever believed in me.
Ty looks at me with disappointment. He can try all he wants to deter me, but there is no turning back now. His voice cracks as he speaks, “I'm just trying to look out for you, Creed. We've been through so much together, and it breaks my heart to see how far you’ve fallen.”
I sit silent. Despite his pleas, I refuse to back down on my decision. This is my life now and Ty has no right to tell me differently.
“I appreciate your concern, Ty. But it’s not necessary.”
Ty stands, “If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”
I should feel like shit for the way I treated him, but I know what I need to do for myself and nothing, not even our friendship, will get in the way of that.
“See you around, old friend,” I say, and Ty leaves my office hopefully understanding that there is no room for negotiation.
* * *
The doors fly open and three of my men storm in, faces pale under a sheen of sweat, eyes wide with alarm.”
I’m on my feet in seconds, “What’s wrong?”
“Boss, we don’t have much time,” Carlo shouts.
“Fire!” Linc adds, “The club is on fire. We need to evacuate. Now!”
It doesn’t take me a second to react. “Fuck!” I walk toward them. “We need to get everyone out safely.”
“You’ve got to get to the emergency exit, now!” Linc shouts. “We got this covered.”
“There is no way I’m not helping out there,” I push past them and toward the club. Linc grabs me by the arm, and I whirl on him. “We need you alive, Boss!”
I glare at him, as I spit, “Fuck that! I’m not leaving my men behind.”
“The men are already getting people out, Creed, we’ve gotta get out of here.”
I hesitate, torn between my duty to my men and customers and self-preservation. “Fine,” I growl.
We’re halfway down the stairs when the fire alarm starts blaring, so much for an early warning system, and smoke starts to filter down the stairwell.
“Go! Go!” I yell, and the four of us bolt toward the exit.
The smoke follows us, like a malevolent presence, growing thicker with every step.
Linc, who’s leading the charge, skids to a stop in front of the doorway, it won’t open. “Fuck,” he curses, and I don’t blink before I shove past him, shouldering my way through the door and into the alley behind my club. I gulp down a desperate breath of fresh air as the others spill out behind me, coughing and hacking.
“How the fuck did this happen?” My voice is a hoarse croak. “Let’s go out front.”
“No time for that, Boss,” Carlo says, his expression grim as he jerks his head toward the smoking building behind us. “We need to get you to the car. Now.”
“No. I have to make sure everyone gets out,” I say, staggering forward.
My legs feel weak as I push forward, determined that no one is left behind. As I round the corner, my eyes sting from the thick black smoke billowing out of the warehouse. A crowd of people are rushing away from the building, coughing and gasping for air, likely grateful to have escaped the inferno.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I frantically search the crowd for any familiar faces.
“Creed!” a raspy voice calls out, and I turn to see one of my bartenders, Joe, doubled over coughing into his sleeve. Relief floods through me to see him safe and sound.
“Jesus Christ, Joe,” I exhale, my hands shaking as I support his trembling form. "What the hell happened?"
His eyes are wild with terror as he looks over at the burning remains of our club. “I-I don't know, Boss. It was just...BOOM!” He gestures wildly with his hands, unable to finish the sentence.
“It's okay, it's okay,” I say calmly, glancing around at the gathered crowd.
Our fire Marshall, Billy, jogs up to us.
“Is everyone here? Is anyone missing?” I ask.
Billy coughs, then nods. “Seems like everyone got out, Boss.” He looks down at his clipboard with the list of patrons. “But... this doesn’t seem like it was an accident? People heard an explosion go off.”
“Oh, I’m fucking sure it wasn't.”
I grind my teeth together, my fists clenching. Whoever did this underestimated me. I'll tear this city apart until I find out who that is.
A sudden chill runs down my spine, and I turn to see Mackenzie through the crowd. Our eyes meet across the chaos of the burning ruins of my club, and the people, and the bitch smirks. I glare at her, and she winks before turning on her heels.
If she thinks this is the end, she’s got another thing coming. If I hated her before, now I was going to make her fucking regret ever crossing me.