27. Match
27
MATCH
Guests flood into Ursula and Hook, all of them male.
Their lustful eyes fucking disgust me.
“In you go,” Pedro says.
“No pat-down first?”
Brander flashes me a cautionary glare. I know what he’s thinking—now’s not the time to joke about a security check when all three of us are concealing weapons, but a touch of humor is what I need to alleviate the tension that’s been wrapped around me all afternoon like one of Brander’s choke holds.
“Green light from Vlad,” is all baldie says before issuing us in.
My gut twists as we enter. I don’t want to see Alice center stage wooing a bunch of degenerate men. I want her home in one of our beds, undressing for us. Only us.
A red spotlight swings.
That’s when I see her.
She’s in scarlet, breasts once again spilling out of small lace that looks ready to snap at any given moment. She moves around the pole fluidly, hooks one leg and straightens the other to accentuate her body. Then she’s touching her ankles, wiggling her ass (fuck, it makes me hard). Occasionally, a tiny red string winks between her cheeks when she relaxes them.
Don’t look, don’t look , I tell myself, keeping my eyes stapled to her.
But they have a mind of their own these days.
If you took every man out of this place and laid them over the Pacific Ocean, the water would be covered. There are too many bodies. Even more pairs of eyes, and every single one is directed toward her. I turn to the man beside me. Frozen in his hand is a bottle of beer that I’ve not yet seen him take a sip of in the two minutes I’ve been staring at him.
A clicking fist draws my attention away from the man.
It’s Brander clenching both of his hands.
“Channel the energy into Vlad,” Lifesaver says. “Maybe Levi too.”
“Agreed,” I say. “He’s a cocky little shit that needs putting in his place.”
Levi, wearing a black suit that’s too big for him, gestures us over and then swoops downstairs. A purple curtain drapes over the area, with a Staff Only sign attached that might as well be translated to Murder Basement.
After nodding to the boys, we advance through the main stage area and head toward the curtain, left of the stage that Alice dances on. It’s only from this distance that I catch the stashes of dollar bills in her G-string. The stitching across her front reveals a dangerous patch of lace that covers something only Brander, Lifesaver, and Match have seen. The material still covers her pussy, but barely.
And that’s when it hits me.
Are these men trying to break the seams of her costume or something?
Are they praying for a wardrobe malfunction?
“Alice,” I call to her, but she doesn’t hear, face still focused on the back wall as she continues with her routine.
The song finishes and another one begins.
This dance doesn’t take place on the stage, but on a lap.
Brander’s face turns so red that it looks sore.
Now I’m clenching my fists.
Even Lifey, the one who knows how to play it pretty cool, nibbles his lip to refrain from saying something. Fuck, the urge to pick her up and take her home has never felt this pressing before. It’s just a ploy, I know.
But the men don’t know that.
“Come on.” Lifesaver tears us away.
Turning back feels like going against the laws of fucking physics.
“Bastard Russians are trying to mess with us.”
Levi appears from behind the purple curtain, but his eyes don’t meet ours. They’re stapled to some busty woman’s face instead, brows pinched as they go at one another verbally.
“You said it was just pole dancing,” he says angrily.
“Wouldn’t you like to see her with another gentleman, hm?” She’s Russian, and her amused eyes glow mean in red spotlights.
They’re messing with him?
Approaching the curtain, I feel like yanking the material away to outlet my anger, but I manage to muster some sort of self-restraint.
Levi follows after us and descends the staircase.
“Who’s she?” I ask.
“Who?”
“The woman with the Mount Everest-looking breasts?”
“She manages the girls. Vlad tells her what to do and?—”
“Vlad’s wife?” I snort. “The one you fucked?”
Levi’s silence is all the confirmation we need.
Suddenly it all makes sense.
The woman’s probably feeling upset after hearing that Levi wants Alice back. No wonder she’s telling Alice to lap dance and grind in men’s laps the night Levi happens to pay Ursula and Hook a visit. She serves revenge cold .
But so do the Venom Vultures.
“Down here,” Levi says, taking the lead.
We descend the stairs for another few minutes until we hit solid ground.
Coldness seeps into my bones. Surrounded by concrete, the space makes a perfect killing location, and being this far underground conceals sound.
Levi pulls out his phone and connects his device to a Wi-Fi network.
He taps on messages, scrolling down a long list of contacts until he locates Peter’s name. Opening up the chat, he finds a picture on his phone of Alice pole dancing, and hits send.
“This is your grand master plan?” Lifesaver says. “To piss off her father even more?”
The phone rings before Levi has time to even reply.
We all stare down at the screen.
Incoming call—Peter.
Levi waggles his brows and answers.
“Why the photo? All I needed was a heads-up to start heading over,” Peter says.
“Get over here,” Levi says. “Now. Behind the curtain to the bottom of the stairs.”
He pockets the phone and looks back up at us, catching us all staring.
“What? Take a joke.”
“It’s not the right moment,” Lifesaver says.
I squint my eyes at the boy. Do I smell salmon? There’s something fishy about him.
“You’re not on our fucking side, are you?” Brander says. “What are you up to?
Bullets fire before there’s any time to answer.
I dodge. Turn around to see a dozen Russians filter in.
Let the battle begin.
Brander releases the iron rod—no time to heat it up now. It pangs against the concrete walls before making impact with a person’s face. Two seconds later, blood oozes out and splats to the floor.
Thrown to the floor, I army-crawl to the other side of the room and release the knife. Reaction times are slow today. It’s because the main room upstairs still has my attention—Alice circling her hips onto a strange man’s lap is my latest memory of her.
Better not make it the last.
I charge forward and acquaint myself with shortie over in the corner who looks like he could use a buddy. His bulging biceps tense as he reaches to lock his hands around my neck, bringing me into a choke hold.
Fucking great.
Air disappears from my lungs.
Already, I feel faint.
Taking advantage of my free hands, I search blindly for my knife but shortly feel something lock around my wrists.
Teamwork.
My other opponent straps my hands behind my back.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My arm’s still recovering from last time. Having it bent backward and pulled taut away from my body is the last thing it needs.
I brace for the inevitable rip of stitching.
“Who got you in the eye, loco?” laughs the short one. “That looks nasty.”
He wants me to say that it was one of them.
But it wasn’t. It was IT tech boy aiming for gold as soon as I told him Alice was my wife.
Speaking of, where is the bastard?
I look around the room to see how the lanky bastard handles a real Bratva attack.
He tackles Lifesaver to the floor with a friend.
Luckily, Brander shoves his attacker away and with the iron rod, whacks Levi and his friend off Lifey. I’m surprised the little boy still manages to stand after that force.
“Fucking bastard,” barks Brander, iron rod next hitting his knees.
The knobbly things buckle and Levi crashes to the floor again.
So he was lying? Pranking us this entire time. The conversation with Vlad this afternoon, live-streamed to us, wasn’t him bluffing Vlad.
It was him bluffing us .
Taking advantage of the weakened choke hold, I kick bicep guy in the balls and slash my knife at his friend, a red wound opening on his chest and spilling enough blood to knock him unconscious for a while.
Dusting off my hands, I cross the room to Levi.
“You know.” I ready the knife in my hand. “I once saw an ant crawling on the floor with more meat on it than you.”
He cackles dryly. “You think you’re funny.”
“Vlad didn’t blackmail you to join.” I point the knife his way. “You wanted in, didn’t you?”
A disgusting grin surfaces on Levi’s face. Then he nods.
“I don’t blame you. Staring at a computer screen all day every day can’t race your heart an awful lot.”
“Do you know?” says Levi. “How much Bratva pay their contracted killers?”
“More than your shitty computer job?”
“A lot more.”
Brander joins the conversation, and Levi turns to him and laughs. “Oh, Brander. Come on. You of all people know how it feels.”
“How what feels?” Brander frowns.
“To be penniless,” Levi says. “My dad has been out of work ever since my mom died giving birth to me because he couldn’t get himself out of the grief. He blames her death on me, you know?”
“ Boohoo .” Brander points the rod Levi’s way. “Get to the point.”
“I joined the Bratva when I was seventeen.”
“Seventeen?” I furl my brow. “That’s when you started dating?—”
“Alice, yep.”
I don’t know why the fuck he thinks he can smile like that. I’ll use this knife to cut out all of his teeth.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I treated Alice well. Very well. I proposed with a two-carat diamond ring. You guys ever get your hands on something like that?”
“Try four-carat, sunshine.” Brander sniffs a laugh.
Levi’s too stuck up his own ass to see that we’re not lying.
“I need Peter dead,” Levi continues. “And I don’t know why you prunes prance around playing savior when I know you want him gone too.”
I tighten my fist around the knife. “What interest does the syndicate have to you?”
“I have a skill. There are no hackers in the syndicate.”
“And you think you’ll be the first?” Brander scoffs.
“Vlad wants to see what I’m made of.” All the boy is made of is a few twigs . “I can’t let Peter destroy my career.”
“And I can’t let you kill him.” Brander taps the rod against Levi’s chest. “What about Alice, hm? You wanna kill her father and break her heart even more?”
“Alice will thrive without him.” Levi directs his eyes to me. “Come on, Match. You know that just as well as I do. He’s making things difficult, isn’t he?” His gaze extends to the other two. “Things would be so much easier for you all with Peter gone.”
“You don’t want to get back with Alice?” Lifesaver crosses his arms over his chest.
“Love distracts. I have a career to start.” Levi eyes me again. “Alice is all yours…but is she?” He eyes me again. “With Peter still in the picture?”
The son of a bitch. I press my lips together and stay quiet, because it’s true. Peter is the anchor that Alice, no matter what, will tether herself to. He’s the realist. She’s the optimist. He goes by the book. She writes her own pages. Since meeting Alice, I’ve seen more determination in her every day. Granted, when we first met, she was drunk, but she seems to carry herself different now.
She loves her father, and he loves her.
But killing is the easy way out.
At the Venom Vultures, we kill for the greater good, not for our own selfish endeavors.
Do I want to slaughter Alice’s father and make her upset?
I could lie, say somebody else murdered him, but then I wouldn’t be any different from the Russians and Peter.
And then what? I go on priding myself about being a member of the Venom Vultures MC when I’ve broken multiple codes of conduct?
I inch the knife closer to Levi. “You will not be killing Peter.”
“No,” he says. “ I won’t be.”
The door thuds open and a tall figure with a cool hairdo strides in.
Vlad.
Suited and booted just like he was this afternoon, he greets his comrades in Russian and steps closer to us, shoes clacking against the concrete floor like he’s preparing for a tap recital or something.
And then in walks a second body. This one not as grand, but familiar nonetheless.
The one and only Peter Dyson.
“Evening, gents,” says Vlad, forcing a smile at us.
A smile breaks out on Levi’s face.
A laugh comes close to bursting out of my mouth. The boy thinks he’s won, but following around a Bratva leader and responding to their every call isn’t winning.
Nobody wins in the Bratva except the bossman himself.
But this time he won’t.
Peter shuffles in with his tail between his legs, the combined smell of caffeine and body odor sickening my stomach more than the anxiety of what’s to come. He looks at me, and for the first time in forever, he doesn’t death-glare me like I’m worth less than a piece of shit.
Because roles have been flipped.
Then Peter turns to Levi. “You’re laughing now, but I’ll report you when I get chance. Snapping pictures of strippers is prohibited.”
“Not at Bratva-owned clubs,” Vlad says. He turns to Peter. “Guests can do whatever they want.” He lingers his eyes, the look inside of them growing even more mean than before. “There are no rules.”
A knuckle clicks.
Brander’s.
He stands, both fists at his sides, with a jaw that looks like it’s about to explode. Lifesaver stands the same way, but in his dominant hand is a gun.
And he fingers for the trigger.
It’s too dark to see properly. A small light on the wall is the only thing that stops the room from falling into darkness. Using the dark corner in which I’m standing to my advantage, I grip the knife in my hand and string together a plan. Carefully, I step one foot out.
My next move will be to drive the knife deep into Vlad’s chest.
Of course that’s when he decides to move.
Brander throws himself at Vlad instead. But he catches the punch, feeding his own fist back to Brander. More of Vlad’s posse materialize.
Peter cowers in the corner. It’s a wonder nobody’s shot him yet.
Vlad yanks Levi up from the floor. Fixes him up with a gun.
“What’s this?” I glimpse the smug smile on the boy’s face.
“A Glock 17L. Ever heard of it?” Levi shakes his head. Vlad snaps his fingers in Peter’s direction. “You’re going to kill him.”
My vision blurs from the attackers, but I swear I see Levi’s entire blood supply drain.
“What? I thought?—”
“You want to be my little hacker, do you? Prove yourself.”
“Sir, all due respect. A hacker’s greatest strength is their intelligence. Not?—”
“You want Alice’s father dead,” Vlad says. “She’ll thrive without him. Those were your words that came out of your mouth, so come on. Let’s see what you’re made of. You’ve killed before. This shouldn’t be any different.”
Levi’s cold face suggests that it is.
I stifle a laugh. He’s a hypocrite. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s growing on me. Perhaps he does have morals.
“Levi,” Peter cries. “Think about what you’re doing.”
The boy turns back to Peter.
Then to Vlad.
He looks at his boss like he’s fucking in love with him. I’m unsure how long the staring challenge lasts between the two of them—I’m too busy fighting off more of Vlad’s pets—but when a loud THUD echoes through the room, I strain my eyes and look back over.
“Suit yourself,” Vlad says.
He punches Peter in the gut, and then hurls Levi into him. The two crash to the ground together, Levi on top, the Glock pressed against Peter’s chest.
The boy should abandon the gun if he knows what’s good for him.
But it’s too late.
Vlad takes out a Tag Heuer phone and frames the shot.
Click!
“Now, move aside.” When Levi struggles, Vlad intervenes and rips the boy away from Peter. He releases a shotgun from his own blazer, this one bigger and with a wider muzzle that shoots bullets twice as big.
“I don’t understand,” Levi says.
Vlad’s triangle chin juts out in the shadowy light. “You fucked my wife. What makes you think I would have welcomed you into the syndicate?”
Levi goes silent.
“Suffer the consequences for the rest of your life behind iron bars,” says Vlad. “And get used to the prison food. When Las Vegas News releases reports and photo evidence”—he taps his phone—“of you murdering the dear mayor of Las Vegas, nobody will want to see your face again.” Vlad turns his neck. “And you, Mr. Peter Dyson.” He steps forward and shoves the gun closer. “See what I’m about to do as a favor. I know how much you’ve been clinging to the guilt. I think it’s about time we set you free.”
Peter breathes erratically. “I’ll stop the campaign. Please. Just leave Alice and me alone.”
“Alice?” He cocks his head. “I think I’ll keep her.” He advances two more steps and clicks the gun. “She’s very resourceful to the Bratva. So much more than this guy ever was.” Vlad kicks Levi’s ankle.
The gun meets Peter’s chest.
I struggle out of the choke hold. If just one of us can tackle ourselves out of Vlad’s posse, we could knife the don in the back and be done with this chaos.
But all three of us get caught up in webs.
Vlad presses the muzzle even closer, and his silhouetted nose sticks into Peter’s personal space.
“Shall we count down from three?”
Peter gasps.
“One…Two…”
They’re so close they’re practically kissing.
“Thr—”
“STOP!”
The female voice halts us all.
Even Vlad.
Breathless in the doorway, with a face that looks like it’s about to break out in tears, is Alice.