Chapter 42
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
NOLA
I might look the part, but I feel out of place. Every time one of these men comes up to me, talks to me, flirts with me, it takes every little bit of willpower I manage to find inside me not to take my knife that's strapped to my inner thigh and stab them in the neck.
It would bring me great joy to see the look of terror on their faces when they realized they were fucked.
Sadly, I can’t do that.
I’m here for a reason, an important mission.
The thing is… the same thing that happened to the guys is happening to Roscoe.
He’s suspicious, and we’re having to move up our plan before we lose our window of opportunity.
That brings us to tonight.
Tonight is the night we plan on pinning the Butterfly Killer murders on Roscoe.
After two more murders that have been spun to look like Roscoe could be the culprit, it’s time to put the last nail in the coffin.
This is my plan, one that the guys are not too thrilled about. They don’t like me using myself as bait and wanted to hire someone else to do this part.
I get where they’re coming from, and I understand their worry, but I want to do this. I caused this mess in the first place, and I want to be the one who fixes it.
And honestly, I’m pretty excited.
Maybe that's stupid of me, seeing as he’s a dangerous crime lord. Not a very good one if you ask me. The more I hear about this asshole, the more he sounds like a Brotherhood wannabe that makes very bad decisions and has no idea what he’s doing.
But I guess if you give someone enough money and power, they think they’re a god.
He’s no god, just a stupid man with no soul.
And tonight I get to put him behind bars.
The guys think there’s a good chance that he won’t be locked up for long. They say his lawyers will fight tooth and nail, and he’ll eventually find a way out.
But the guys only need the Brotherhood off their backs long enough to let everything blow over.
Wesley is trying to convince Jasper to off a few of the older members, the ones who cause more of an issue than anyone else.
Jasper said no, but I have a feeling that if he talks to his dad about it, I don’t think Mr. Park would be all that opposed to it.
For now, this is what we need to do.
I’m sitting at the bar in a knee-high silver dress. The wig I’m wearing is fucking itchy and hot. Jasper insisted I wear a wig because he’s adamant that Roscoe would recognize me.
I haven’t met him before, but I guess in this world, that doesn't matter.
Roscoe has been here for the past half hour, drinking and laughing with some of his men.
He’s not shy about checking out the women in this place, even less hesitant to flirt with them. I’m pretty sure he’s taken two women into the bathroom and fucked them both already if their disheveled clothes and messed-up hair count for anything.
Fucking pig that he is. I really, really, really wish I could kill him.
I personally think it would end all our problems. Sadly, I’m not the one in charge here.
The guys have to be going out of their minds by now. I know they wish they could be in here, watching me, keeping an eye on me, but no matter how much you try to put them in a disguise, they’re just too distinctive. They would be spotted a mile away.
Turning around in my spot at the bar, I bite my lip and look around the room, giving the illusion I’m searching for the right man to take me home for the night.
I’ve felt Roscoe's eyes on me for a while now, watching me turn man after man down.
My hope was that he took this as a challenge, that maybe he would be next to try and pick me up, wanting to show these men he was better, that he could get the girl they couldn’t.
When my eyes lock on him from across the room, the heavy-lidded gaze of interest tells me I read this man like a book.
My smile turns more flirtatious as I tilt my head to the side as if I’m eyeing him up, too. When my eyes meet his, I give him a wink before turning back around.
I count the seconds down in my head, ten, nine, eight…
“Can I buy you a drink?” And we have liftoff.
I look up at him through my lashes, giving him a shy but interested smile. “That would be great. I just happened to have finished mine,” I tell him.
“What are you drinking?”
“Rum and Coke,” I answer.
“Another one for the lady,” he tells the bartender before he brings his attention back to me. “What are you doing here all alone?”
I shrug, grabbing the drink that's placed in front of me and pretending to take a sip. I’m not stupid, I saw the bartender slip something into it out of the corner of my eye. Guess he isn’t as confident as I thought, or he just loves to have the women he takes home incapacitated.
Not tonight, fucker.
“If I’m being honest, I’m just looking for some fun. A man who can show me a real good time.”
“Yeah?” His eyes light up with interest. “Seems like you had a lot of men looking for the same thing. None of them catch your attention?
“No.” I smile. “But…” I bite my lip, eyeing him up and down.
I want to get this over and done with. I have no desire to sit here, talking and flirting with this fucker.
“How about you come home with me? I’ll show you a good time, one you will never forget.” To someone who didn’t know who this man was, his smile would come off as sexy and alluring. Me? I know better.
That is the smile of a demon. One who wants to lure me in and rip out my soul.
“Really?” I force myself to sound excited.
“Come on.” He takes the glass from my hand and places it on the bar top. “Let’s get out of here.”
I take his hand, letting him pull me from the stool. As soon as his hand makes contact with mine, my skin crawls, and I want to wash it in a bucket of bleach.
But I don’t let my disgust show, letting him lead me out of the club.
“Where do you live?” I ask as he brings me to a black SUV.
“Not too far from here. But we’re not going to my place.”
“We’re not?” A spark of fear fills me.
He shoves me into the car, sliding in next to me. My hand goes to the knife on my thigh; it brings me comfort, making sure it’s there. If he tries to fuck me, I will chop off his dick.
The guys have to be losing it right now as we drive off in the opposite direction of his house.
While Garrett was meant to stay nearby watching over me, the guys are camped out near Roscoe's place, ready to bust in if things go wrong.
I hate not having any way to communicate with them. They’re able to see what I’m doing through the camera in my necklace, but we couldn’t risk an earpiece.
So while they can hear me, I can’t hear them.
“Where are we going?” I ask Roscoe, hoping to give the guys something to go off of.
“Somewhere no one will bother us.” He grins down at me, brushing a knuckle over my cheek.
I swallow down the bile threatening to come up.
Even if he doesn’t tell me where he’s taking me, Garrett should be following us. I just know he is. And the guys will find me easily because I have a tracker in me.
Yup. Guess when the guys played creepy, sexy plague doctors with me, they implanted a tracking device in my neck.
Found that out when I was snooping through Sylas’ phone.
What? It’s not that I didn’t trust him. One night, I was getting up to pee and Sylas’ phone dinged with a notification. I looked at the screen as it lit up and saw that the notification said camera security. I thought maybe it was the home security system and someone was breaking in, so I checked.
Nope, it was letting him know that the camera he had put in my room was set off. By Skittles.
I was kind of thrilled over the fact that they were so obsessed over me, they wanted to watch me whenever I was away from them.
But it had me thinking… what else had they done?
I got Callie to do a search of the room with a tracking detector. There was only one camera found in my room, but when Callie jokingly ran it over my body, saying she wouldn’t be surprised if the guys put a tracker in me, the device went off for a second time.
She was right.
They don’t know that I know, and I don’t plan on telling them.
Plus, I did the same thing to them. With Callie’s help. They really should stop smoking whatever crazy shit Sylas brings home from work. They never learn.
At least, we will always know where the other is.
Eventually, we pull up to a dingy motel on the outskirts of the city. I look out the window, making sure to aim my camera toward the motel sign.
The car stops, and Roscoe gets out. Standing by the open door, he holds his hand out for me. Grabbing my purse, I press it to my chest as I take his hand and let him pull me from the car.
“This place is… something.” I let out a nervous chuckle, my head snapping to the side as the car drives away.
Lovely, we’re stranded here. At least there are a few cars in the parking lot, so we’re not completely alone.
“It’s good for when you want privacy,” he chuckles, tugging me toward the front office.
“Kind of creepy, in the middle of nowhere,” I comment. “You’re not going to kill me, are you?” I joke.
He looks down at me, and I swear I don’t see an ounce of humanity in his eyes. Fucking hell, maybe he is going to kill me.
“You worry too much. Just relax and let me show you a good time.”
A good time? Maybe for him, but I can assure, no one has ever had a good time with this asshole.
The more I act scared and timid, the more excitement I see shining in his eyes. Holding my purse to my chest, I look around the place.
It reeks of mildew, the walls have weird brown spots, and I swear I just saw a mouse scurrying across the front lobby floor.
Roscoe doesn’t even have to speak to the man at the counter, the guy just hands him a key.
“Let’s go.”He grabs my shoulder with a tight grip, and the urge to punch him in the dick is strong.
I let him guide me back outside and down the row of rooms until we get to the very last one.
He unlocks it, shoving me inside. He flicks on the light, and my eyes widen. No fucking way I’m getting on that bed, I’d like to stay STD free, thanks.
“Uh, can I freshen up a little bit?” I ask as I step further into the room.