Chapter Three
WILSON
“What’s the point?” My voice sounds foreign to me. Timid, nervous, and scared. I hate feeling this way, even in the company of my closest ally. Hell, Alex Bates is so close to a friend by now, I might as well call him one.
“The point is, there is no point,” Alex says. He presses his spectacles higher on the bridge of his nose, simultaneously eyeing a box of Marlboro Lights. He’s thin, but deceptively so. Beneath the ill-fitting shirts and loose pants, with the right flex, his muscular physique is dominating.
“Then why did you come here? You’re putting yourself… and me, at risk.”
“No, no, I wouldn’t be here, if I didn’t have some good news.” He’s clutching a beer. The can’s condensation soaks his fingertips. “We’re in talks with Manny Ramirez. He’s hiding out in Colorado, but he’s willing to listen.”
“Colorado’s a good distance from Alabama. Should buy me enough time to figure something out,” I say.
We’re sitting in a back corner of a sleazy strip club. It’s noon, but inside these walls, no one can tell. The dim lighting, coupled with blackened windows, makes it impossible for the sun to breach its atmosphere.
It was my idea to come here. Not to gawk at strippers.
That’s a foolish game for men who don’t know how to spend their money.
I came to discuss business. Loud music blares from speakers hanging from pillars.
Deep purples and reds cascade over the main floor.
Toothless yokels order drinks, shouting obscenities and cheering on the half-naked waitresses.
A man can’t have conversations like this in a friendly, family-owned coffee shop.
After Hope’s display of affection… or whatever the hell it was, last night, this place isn’t my vibe. I’d rather have her back on my lap than dishing out donations for a private dance.
The very thought of her is enough to get me hard. But I’m in a public place, with an old colleague. Walking around with an erection won’t do either of us any good.
“If things keep going the way they’re going, you might not need to buy any more time,” Alex says. “Peace talks with Ramirez are really going better than expected. We’ve put in a good word for you—”
“A good word?” I raise a brow.
“It was a misunderstanding. We couldn’t have known the weapons were bad,” Alex says. “The test samples worked great.”
“And yet, here we are. Two powerful dogs, hiding with their tails tucked between their legs. A good word doesn’t mean shit while Manny’s after my head.
” I want to spit, but I can’t. Rage consumes my very being, tightening my throat.
I’d be shouting if we weren’t in public.
“He’s not going to be happy having to sit in the Rockies when he could be commanding his forces in Cuba. ”
Men cheer, drawing Alex’s attention away from me.
He twists his head over his shoulder to stare at the woman working the pole.
Busty and brown-haired, with eyes to match.
Not unattractive, but not my style. Her time’s coming to a close, and I want to be out of here before the next girl starts her dance.
“Maybe you should find yourself a woman,” Alex says. “You don’t want to be here, but some pussy will make your stay easier.”
If it isn’t Hope Ward, I’m not interested. Few women hold my interest as it stands, and when I’m in a fight for survival, the number dwindles even lower.
“Back on topic, huh?”
“Sure, sure,” Alex shrugs. He grabs his box of smokes, takes one out, and lights it. “Just trying to put a smile on that sour face of yours, Boss. We need to keep level heads in these trying times.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a price tag on your head.”
“It’s not sunshine and rainbows for the rest of us, y’know?” Alex spins the lit cigarette between his fingers. The burning ember dances in the gloomy darkness. “We might not have to hide our heads, but we’re still under constant pressure from both sides.”
“What pressure might that be? Before my departure, I ensured you boys had fat wallets.”
“Money gets you so far, but the crew’s starting to ask questions. If we don’t get operational soon, they’ll seek work elsewhere.” He takes a drag of his cigarette, and then ashes it into an empty can. “We’re not in this business to get rich. We’re here for the thrill of it.”
“Life and death are high stakes in a game of chance.” I wipe my face lazily with the palm of my hand.
“Let’s say it like it is: Manny Ramirez is weak. He’s in hiding in the US because his business in Cuba came to a screeching halt. We’re not on the back foot here, Willy. He is.”
“Even in hiding, and even weak, Manny’s got more than we have.” I take a long swig of my rum and Cola. “Men, money, guns…”
The dancer’s show comes to a close and she gives a few bows in various directions, shaking her ass with every movement. She collects her dollars and clothes from the stage before scurrying back behind a black curtain.
“You mean the jammed ones?” A cheeky grin graces Alex’s gaunt face.
It quickly fades as he meets my eyes. “His weakness is our strength. I can’t say for certain where he’s hiding out, but I’d be able to get that information mighty quickly if I needed to.
If Manny’s not willing to negotiate, we’ll force peace on him with brute force. ”
“How do you propose we do that?”
Intrigued, I’m willing to hear him out. But I wouldn’t be surprised if his scheme comes off as a waste of time.
“You said it yourself, we’re sitting with fat wallets.
There isn’t a man in our crew that wouldn’t want to see you back in action.
” He runs a hand through his ash-blonde hair.
“Together we’ve got enough cash to bring in the motherfucking cavalry.
We can show that prick what it means to mess with a blue-blooded American. ”
“Hire a mob?”
“Doesn’t have to be,” he says. “We get the same guys we use for deliveries. They’re always in for a quick buck.”
“We hire them as muscle on good faith deals. This is a death sentence.”
“Not if the price is right.” Alex downs the rest of his beer in one big gulp. “A merc is a merc. They do what they do to make money.”
“It’s a good idea,” I say, as I take the last sip of my drink. Ice cubes clang against the glass when I set it down. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I want you to go back home and test the waters with potential buyers and sellers.”
“No one’s going to touch us while we’re being crushed under Ramirez’s thumb,” he says. “It’s bad blood until this gets resolved.”
“Suppose so.” What else can I do but try to make some deals? I brought enough money to last me a while, but if we don’t start making more, my lavish lifestyle will come to an end. I’ve grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle, and I don’t want it to change.
We get out of our high-rise bar chairs and step out from our dark corner. We were so hidden back here the waitresses didn’t even bother to make a stop near us. Or maybe they could sense the seriousness of this meeting, with Alex dressed in his black leather trench coat.
Two men in black leather walk into a sleazy club. It’s easy to tell trouble’s on the horizon.
Alex makes it off the platform, but before I get to join him, the lights go dark. Small groups launch out of their seats and rush to the dancing stage. The faint hiss of feedback rings from the speakers.
This is what I wanted to avoid: the next dancer starting. The mass hysteria of desperate men scrounging for a morsel of pussy.
Fuck.
Ooh, baby, baby…
The words blast out of the speakers. An instantly recognizable sound from my youth spent in the nightclubs of Miami.
The phrase repeats, and as it does, a spotlight hits the stage to no one standing there.
It goes black again, and on the third oh baby the spotlight returns to a raven-haired woman, clutching the stripper pole.
She’s clad in a high-cut white button-up that barely covers her breasts.
It’s tied in the front instead of being buttoned.
Paired with the shirt, she’s wearing a plaid skirt, so short it doesn’t cover her glitter-covered panties.
Her hair’s done in braids and pigtails, with a fluffy pink band keeping them in place.
A funky, upbeat remix of Oops, I did it again starts playing and she starts working the pole. My cock instantly hardens, as I clutch the hand railing to stop myself from collapsing.
I don’t have to see her face to know it’s Hope Ward on the stage.
I’d know that body anywhere, because of my sleepless nights of fantasizing about it.
Although this is more than a little on the nose, given our current predicament, I want nothing more than to stick around and see what’s hidden beneath the skimpy schoolgirl outfit.
“There we go,” Alex says, delivering a firm pat to my shoulder. “Didn’t I say it? A pretty woman will make the stay so much easier.”
He laughs. I ignore him.
“I know her,” I say. I leave out the details of her being a student. No matter how fake this teacher role feels, this situation feels fucked.
“Better still.” Another firm pat follows. “You can window shop before taking her for a test drive.”
Alex’s vulgarity makes my blood boil. If it were anyone else, I’d have kicked his teeth in.
Having a deeper understanding of Hope’s predicament and seeing her like this leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
She’s out here flashing her ass to make money to support her mother.
Maybe it’s my age getting the better of me.
A protective instinct makes me want to shield her from the harsh realities of this devastating world.
Who am I to protect her when my life’s already filled with so much danger?
“Let’s get out of here,” I say.
“Come on, the show’s just getting good.” He’s having fun at my expense. It shouldn’t upset me this much.
I turn away from Hope, as her dancing shifts to stripping. This isn’t how I’m going to experience her body for the first time. If anything, it’s given me a lot more to think about, regarding her offer last night.