Chapter 6
NICOLETTA
“Women,” Smoke’s low tone spits out the word. “Or, more likely, underage teens.”
The room tilts, and I grab on to the edge of the table. Bolt rests his hands on my shoulders to steady me, then eases me into the chair.
“What?” My harsh whisper sticks in my throat.
“Seems the reason they offed our connection was because he wouldn’t go along with it.
” Smoke turns to face me, his eyes cold and hard.
“Human trafficking is a federal offense, usually carrying a life sentence, but apparently your father and his buddies weren’t worried ‘cause they have so many connections.”
“I . . . I can’t believe it,” I stutter. “George Henley and my father play golf regularly. He’s been to our home for dinner parties. How could they be involved in something so repulsive?”
“Shit happens.” Smoke regains his seat at the head of the table. “People get greedy. . . and then they get stupid.”
“And you’re absolutely sure that’s what’s locked in the basement?”
“Ninety-nine percent sure. Probably also the reason your father wanted to keep you locked up. Afraid you’d start digging into shit, or you’d come back here, and we’d tell you.”
“And Brad was involved in this too?”
Blood barks out a harsh laugh. “Ohhh yeah, only he took it one step further. Not only did he want to sample the merchandise, he also put the screws to your old man for a bigger cut of the action.”
“That didn’t go over so well, so your father had to have him eliminated,” Smoke adds.
My stomach pitches like I’ve been punched. I feel the blood drain from my face, and for a second, I’m afraid I’m going to barf on the Royal Bastards’ polished wood table.
Bolt leans in. “Take it easy, babe; you had no way of knowing what these fuckers were up to.”
I force myself to drag in deep, cleansing breaths, but I can’t shake the sensation of somehow being tainted by association. My father and the man I was living with—how did I miss the signs?
“Now, we have to figure out how to deal with him.” Smoke narrows his eyes. “And that’s where you come in.”
Bolt shifts in his seat. “Nah, nah, we ain’t involving her.”
The room erupts, and they all begin talking at once, their voices low but intense. All with different ways to stop the degenerate operation.
“I say we wait till they show up again, then we hit them at the bar.” Diesel smirks. “Take ‘em out right there.”
Smoke shakes his head. “Too public, too flashy.”
“Then we cut off their supply line. It’s gotta start somewhere down here in Mexico.” Bolt adds, “Maybe even Tijuana.”
“I say,” Diesel bangs his fist on the table, “we grab one of the suits—make him talk—then show him what happens when you fuck with the Bastards. Make him an example.”
“That’s a war we don’t need,” Blood says.
I listen to all of them and realize their thinking is way off.
“None of that will work,” I blurt out loud enough to be heard over the din of male voices.
The room goes silent. All eyes again on me.
Smoke stubs out his cigarette. “You got a better idea?”
I plant my palms on the table and stand slowly. The room doesn’t sway, so I continue, “You’re trying to hurt them like outlaws. Muscle. Violence.” I cock my head. “That’s not where they live.”
“Then what?” Smoke’s dark eyes meet mine.
“My father and those other men live and die for their reputation.”
The room stills.
“He may be a criminal of the worst order, but he’s also—respected, connected and untouchable. You go in with violence, and he’ll have everyone from the chief of police to the governor more than ready to lock you all up and throw away the key.”
“Then what?” Blood asks.
“No one would ever believe he’s this dirty. You’d have the highest officials in the state more than ready to take you all down unless . . . you take away the one thing he cares about even more than money.”
Smoke crosses his arms over his chest. “And that is?”
“His image. His reputation.” I point to the paused monitor.
“These men aren’t loyal to my father because they’re afraid.
They’re loyal because they’re protected.
” My gaze sweeps around the room. “You expose what they’re doing, really expose it, and you don’t just hurt him.
You destroy all of them. Because every one of them lives by their pseudo image and their standing in the city.
“Their reputation and rank get them into the finest restaurants, sometimes for free. The best country clubs all over the country, court side seats at Lakers’ games, perks most people can’t imagine, all at their fingertips because of who they are, or what people perceive them to be.”
“And when we take that away, we take them away,” Smoke concludes.
“Exactly.”
Bolt meets my gaze. “You’re talking about going public.”
“Absolutely.”
“That’s messy,” Diesel mutters.
“They all belong to exclusive country clubs, sit on multi-million-dollar charity boards, and attend opulent galas.” I point to the monitors again.
“You drag this into that world, and none of them will survive. All their connections will go up in smoke because no one, no matter who they are, will associate or publicly condone human trafficking.”
Smoke leans back in his chair. “Reputation over retaliation.”
“It’s the only way to make it count.” I look at each of the men. “Now we just need solid proof. Pictures of what or who is locked in that basement.”
Smoke waves his hand at the screens. “We got this much. Shouldn’t be too hard to pay someone to get some video on their phone. Especially if the price is right.”
“We don’t hit them like outlaws,” Bolt says. “We hit them where it hurts.” His gaze locks with mine. “And you’ll help us do this?”
I nod once. “Yes.”
I’m filled with a sense of purpose. I may never be able to forget my father’s vile actions, but I can try to do something to right this terrible wrong.
Smoke looks at Blood. “Tomorrow, you contact whoever we can still trust up at the Surf Club. Tell them we need photos or a video timestamped, and tell them we’re willing to pay.”
“What about the fights on Saturday night?” Bolt asks.
“We go ahead with everything as planned. Just another fight night,” Smoke says. “That gives us time to get the intel we need. Then, with that and the footage we already have placing them at the Surf Club, we should be good to go.”
Smoke’s eyes zero in on me. “Any idea how and when we leak this valuable info?”
I’d swiped at my phone as Smoke was talking to the others and came up with two important galas.
“There are two events coming up in the next week. One on Monday night and the other on Thursday night. Both at Riviera Country Club. Both well attended. While they’ll both serve our purpose, the one on Thursday is Save the Children, a nationwide charity supporting millions of children around the world—focusing on education, health and, most importantly, the safety of children. ”
They all mumble slurs referring to anyone who would hurt a child.
I smile wide. “Kind of apropos, don’t you think?” For the first time, I feel powerful against this horrible situation.
The men nod their approval, and Smoke grips the gavel. “We’ve still got a lot of shit to iron out, but for now we’ll shoot for getting this put together for the Thursday night event at Riviera.”
He slams down the gavel, and the other men all give me a nod or a thumbs-up, which I’m going to consider high praise from outlaws.
Bolt flanks me and leans in as we exit the room. “You were amazing, babe.”
“I’m still in shock about my father’s part in all this, but doing something useful feels good. Now, we just have to put it all together.”
Smoke comes up on my other side. “You figured out how we’re gonna get into Riviera?” He pulls a face. “We don’t exactly look like the country club type, and you got a price on your head.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I already have an invitation, and no one will start anything in front of all those people. That’s the great thing about maintaining a false facade.” I grin at Bolt. “Plus, I can’t wait to see you in a tuxedo.”
Bolt’s jaw drops, Smoke lets out a hoot, and I just keep smiling.