Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
DAMON
We’re driving through the dark streets, heading toward the highway. Leon seems like he’s alive again for the first time since we left Palm Cove. His leg vibrates in the passenger seat while he types the address into his GPS.
“I’ll call Jasper to meet us there,” he says.
“Back up a sec. Where are we going and what the fuck is going on?”
He takes a breath and looks up from his phone. “I’ve been working this lead since we got here. Telling this guy named King that we’re looking for work. That we’ve been recruiters down in Florida and just moved up here. I dropped the loser from Palm Cove’s name and said he told us to meet up with someone named Sweeper. Long story short, we got a meeting with him.”
I let his words sink in. He’s been working nonstop like an animal and we finally got something tangible. “Fuck, yeah,” I say. “So where are we headed?”
After picking up Jasper at a bar in town, we pull up to a club called Velvet. My mind’s whirling with the new information Leon was able to find. This day has had so many fucking ups and downs, it’s a wonder I haven’t crashed yet.
“A strip club?” Jasper says as he rounds the corner. “So cliche.”
I chuckle and shake my head. He’s not wrong. We take a few minutes to get our shit together and stories straight—fake names, history of how we met, and a few other random facts. When we’re somewhat sure of ourselves, Leon gets out and leaves his gun on the floor of the car.
“No weapon?” I ask, adjusting my own. He paces for a moment then reaches for it. “Good choice,” I say.
“I don’t know. I’m sure they’ll pat us down. Feels useless to bring them.” He’s probably right, but I’d rather err on the side of caution. Plus, if they do take our guns, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.
Weaving through parked cars, we approach the venue. Two huge dudes with scowling expressions flank the entrance. They wave us through without question. Leon seems to know where to go, so we follow him, but I stay on guard.
It’s a small club, not that I’ve been to many, but the ones I have been to were larger than this. There’s one main low stage in the center of the room surrounded by high-backed red armchairs large enough for two. The lights are dim with the exception of a few well placed spotlights directed at the two attractive women currently dancing to a remixed R Jasper clocks it too. “What? Drink up.”
Jasper and I share a silent look before I narrow my gaze at Leon. “What’s with the face? Shifty eyes, clenched jaw, and do I see a bead of sweat?”
“You had the same look that time you stole my favorite shirt and stained it,” Jasper says. “We both know you suck at lying.”
He scratches the stubble on his chin and schools his face into the most fake neutral expression I’ve ever seen. “I’m not lying.”
“You look like the picture of guilt,” I say. “It’s actually freaky. Blink, man.”
He blinks dramatically. If we weren’t in a situation where we were possibly about to meet a brutal criminal, I’d laugh.
“Follow me,” the bartender says, coming around the side of the bar and laying a hand on Leon’s shoulder. Jasper and I follow close behind.
I whisper, “You better fess up right now. What are we walking into?”
“Fine. This may not be a scheduled meeting. And when I say may not be, I mean it definitely isn’t.”
I clench my fist. “What the fu?—”
“Come on, I didn’t want to bum around while these fuckers could know something. It’ll be fine.”
“Why does it sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of that more than me?” I reply.
“Told you,” Jasper says low enough for only me to hear. “My gut never lies.”
“Your gut is usually telling you that you ate too much Taco Bell. But I’ll give you this one.”
I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst as the bartender knocks on a door at the end of a long hallway. We step inside an office that’s roughly the size of our entire apartment. The space is a stark contrast to the rest of the club. Bright overhead lights, metal shelving filled with boxes and bins, one large wooden desk in the back of the room. It looks more like a storage closet than an office.
We follow the bartender over to the group of men around the desk. A few older guys sit in chairs holding glass tumblers, while two younger and bigger guys stand beside the desk. Sitting in a leather chair, eyeing us as we head his way, is who Leon’s been talking to.
He’s a middle aged white guy in a polo shirt. The type you’d expect to see playing a round of golf or shopping with his wife and kids at Costco. The one difference is his shrewd light eyes. He scratches his blond thinning hair and sets his hands on top of his desk.
The bartender introduces Leon, takes our empty glasses, and hurries back the way she came. “Gentlemen, as you can see I’m currently entertaining guests.” His words carry a hint of a Russian accent as he gestures to the men. Their posture visibly stiffens in response. “Unless the reason you’re here can’t wait until tomorrow, I’ll have to ask you to leave.” He subtly nods his chin at one of the men standing beside him.
Leon jumps in. “I’m sorry to come by unannounced. I’m Randy, we’ve been talking.” King’s sharp eyes narrow. “From Florida,” Leon adds.
The man standing to his left bends to speak into his ear and realization blooms on King’s face. “Randy, that’s right.” He drums his fingers on his desk. “Why are you here and who are your… friends?”
“We can leave,” one of the seated men says. “It’s no problem.”
King laughs and my skin crawls. So much for Costco dad. This guy’s creepy. “I’m not done with you two. Stay awhile. Finish your drinks.” He focuses back on us. “Go on.”
I stay locked in on the three men around the desk while Leon stumbles over his words. “I have a lead… some girls. The pick up’s tomorrow. I wanted to bring you in… Call it a good faith gesture.”
King clasps his hands together and laughs again. This time my hand inches toward my gun. “And what makes you think I’d be interested in that, Randy?”
Leon’s quiet for a moment as the tension in the room rises. “Based on our conversations. You mentioned girls and I?—”
Both men shift, drawing their weapons before I can react, but Jasper’s quicker than I am. He faces them, gun drawn. Leon and I follow suit, aiming our weapons at the three men behind the desk.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Randy? You come here, to my place of business unannounced, and expect me to what? Agree to work with you?” The two men in front of the desk try to abandon their seats but he fixes his gaze on them. “Did I tell you to move?”
“No—no, but?—”
King nods to the man on his left and he shoots one of them in the leg. “Try to move again… I dare you,” he says.
They curse and bite back screams. My focus isn’t on them, not while guns are still pointed at us.
“Greg, remind me to can those two idiot bouncers for not patting these ones down,” King says. “Where was I?”
“Listen,” I say. “We’ll leave right now and forget this ever happened.”
They laugh and look behind me where two more guys have appeared from nowhere. They’re blocking the door, their weapons drawn.
Jasper and I exchange glances, while Leon seems to be deep in thought.
“I don’t think so,” King says. “What’s going to happen is you three idiots will drop your weapons and walk slowly over there.” He points to the back side of the wall near the metal shelves. “Then my boys will pat you down.”
I blink at Jasper, trying to relay my thoughts. Leon catches my eye and jerks his chin slightly. “And what if we refuse?” I ask.
“Then you die, genius,” the stocky guy to the right says. “Lower your weapons.”
With my hand shaking, I begin to squat, but at the last second, I aim and shoot out the overhead light above us. The distraction causes all out chaos to ensue. Leon and Jasper drop low, firing their weapons. I manage to hit the stocky one and he goes down.
Sparks drop from the ceiling as I duck behind a box and fire off a few more rounds. “Let’s go,” I shout, hoping the guys can hear.
King cowers behind his desk. Figures, a guy like him is all talk. I’m dangerously low on ammo. I assume Jas and Leon are too.
Gun pointed at the remaining two, I crouch and head toward the door, hugging walls and boxes. I’m so close. Right there. Bam! A bullet smashes into the wall beside my head. Fuck. I aim and fire, hitting one of them in the shoulder.
“D,” Leon calls. “Come on.” He’s made it to the door with a hunched over Jasper by his side. Steeling myself, I dart forward and follow them out the door. I grab a nearby chair and jam it under the doorknob. It should buy us a few minutes.
“Fuck!” I yell. “We can’t go through the club. There’s gotta be a back entrance.” Jasper groans and Leon hangs back, sinking to the floor. Jasper’s shirt is soaked through with blood. “Shit, Jasper. Hang in there.” I face a frozen Leon, shock catching up with him. “Hey, stay with me. We gotta get the fuck outta here. Hold him up, I’ll grab the other side. They’re gonna come for us. We didn’t kill them all.”
Leon nods and speaks low to Jasper. He’s the biggest of the three of us so carrying him isn’t easy. I spot an exit sign glowing in the dim hallway and say a silent thanks that one thing’s working in our favor. We stumble to my car and drape Jasper’s groaning form into the passenger seat.
“He needs a hospital,” Leon says. “But fuck, they’re going to ask what happened to him. What do we say? We can’t tell the truth.”
“Let’s just get the hell out of here and we can figure something out on the way,” I say.
“Y-yeah, alright,” Leon stutters. He climbs in the back and takes off his shirt. “Jas, here, hold pressure.”
Jasper groans and presses the shirt against his shoulder. “Fucking hell.”
“Keep pressure on it,” I order, gunning the engine as we peel away. My gaze darts between the road ahead and the rearview, scanning for potential followers the entire drive home. I can’t let anything happen to him. I fucking refuse.
“Let’s get him upstairs,” I say, pulling as close to the steps as I can. “I have a plan.”
Jasper moans at my side. His face is so fucking pale. “I’ll be okay. I can walk.”
“The fuck you can,” I tell him. “Sit your ass down. Leon, go make sure Mrs. Langston isn’t out.”
“It’s 2 AM, I think we’re okay,” Leon says. How the hell did it get that late?
It’s a struggle, but we manage to get him upstairs and into his room. Jasper lies on his bed, bleeding onto his sheets while Leon grabs our one clean towel to staunch the wound. He pulls me to the side. “What now?”
“Stay here and keep him comfortable. I’ll be back soon.”