Better When He's Brave
Page 60
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“Why would she? You had sex with her. You called her by her stage name and then you moved on. When you started making money, started to make a name for yourself when you took over Novak’s action, did you ever think to ask her if she wanted more? Nassir too. He took over the club from Ernie and he just let her keep dancing on that stage. He never offered her anything more. If he had, she would have handed herself over to him without question. All she wants is someone to value her.”
He grunted and popped the locks in a sleek and modern sports car. It was so different from the old-school muscle I had been cruising around in recently that I almost made a face at it. Boys took their toys seriously, though, so I stopped myself just in time. Green eyes locked on me over the top of the car and Race’s voice was contemplative when he asked, “How do you know that’s what she wants? I thought you two didn’t like each other. Nassir said you tried to kick her ass a few weeks ago when Titus took you to the club.”
I blew out a breath that had some of my hair lifting and falling back toward my face.
“I know because I am her. We’re from the same place. We’re made of the same stuff. We’ve had to fight the same battles, and I know all I wanted was someone to value me, all of me.”
“Titus.” It wasn’t a question.
I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “He doesn’t approve of some of the things I’ve done in the past, but those things give me the ability to see all of him, so we have to accept each other. Plus, where I come from gives me enough fight to try and hold on to him when he wants to break loose.”
I pulled the door open as Race gave a dry laugh. “I always knew big brother had more going on than anyone really knew. Bax was so angry at him when we were younger that he made him out to be a monster. I always trusted Titus with my life, but I knew underneath the surface there lurked something else. None of us that survive here gets the luxury of being one thing. We all have our hands in different cookie jars hoping that at the end of the day we don’t get caught in any of them.”
The car stared with a low purr, far quieter and less angry than the noise the GTO made. Race and I were silent on the rest of the way to the club, and when he parked around back he leaned across from me to pull a gun out of the glove box in front of me. I recoiled a little because I was still jumpy about the one in the purse at my feet. I needed to get rid of it like yesterday.
“I don’t usually carry a gun, but something tells me hanging out with you might make it necessary.” The weapon disappeared behind his back and under his sweater as we climbed out of the car and headed into the overly pink building. It was so much worse in the daytime. It just screamed debauchery and degradation. It was so gaudy and ugly it hurt to look at. I couldn’t believe someone with as much style and class as Nassir hadn’t changed it yet. And I told Race that.
He made a noise of agreement as he punched a security code into a pad and a massive metal door swung open.
“Nassir doesn’t care. He ended up here by default after the Pit burned down. He’s only here until he rebuilds his club.”
“That’s dumb. He takes care of all those girls, he invests in them. He should give them someplace they can be proud of. This still feels like it did when Novak used it as a brothel and a betting house. Nassir should put a little bit of the money those girls make him into it and turn it around.” I mean, it was always going to be a strip club, but I didn’t see why it couldn’t be a nice strip club.
Race led the way to the office and lifted his hand to knock on the door. Before his fist connected he shot me a hard look. “Remember not to trust him. Nassir has his own agenda in everything he does.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “So do you.”
“Damn straight. So does Bax, so does Booker. We all do. In fact the only person you should rely on being up front with you is Titus. He’s the only one of us that is trustworthy.”
“I do trust him.” I more than trusted him, which meant he could break me so very easily if we weren’t careful.
Race nodded just slightly, some of his blond hair flipping into his eyes. “Yeah, well, he trusts you too, which is the scary part. Don’t let him down, because that isn’t a gift lightly given.”
Ugh. Stupid, handsome genius. It was like he was looking right through my skin and seeing the guilt lurking there about still having the gun and about my own original, deceitful plot. I didn’t have to respond because Chuck pulled open the door and ushered us inside.
Nassir was sitting behind a rickety metal desk that looked like it was going to fall apart. He had a MacBook open in front of him and a glower on his sinfully handsome face. Nassir was a hard guy to read but he was making no effort to hide the fact that he was frustrated and on edge. Chuck gave me a wink, flashed his gold tooth, and leaned against the door we had just come through. It was meant to look like a casual gesture, but there was no getting out of the office without going through him, and that made me feel slightly trapped.
“Have you seen Booker since he posted bail?” Nassir’s voice was smooth and smoky but there was always a razor-fine edge that laced through it.
Race snorted and shrugged. “No, and I’m not sure why everyone seems to think it’s my job to keep tabs on him. I don’t have the guy microchipped. He can come and go as he pleases.”
Nassir’s caramel-tinted gaze switched over to me. It was hard not to flinch under the intensity of it. This guy was scary, and it had me wanting to rethink this hasty plan.
“What are you doing here?” There was only annoyance in his tone as he spoke to me.
I cleared my throat so I could speak without my voice cracking. It was never a good idea to show fear in front of a predator. “I want you to find me something to do in the club so that Conner will make a move. All this waiting is getting us nowhere and he’s escalating. I’d rather you go toe-to-toe with him than the feds, which is the next option. They pulled my deal off the table.”
Nassir didn’t say anything for a long moment. His tawny eyes shifted between me and Race and then one of his pitch-black eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “This was your idea?” He asked the question of Race.
The blond man shook his head in the negative and hitched his thumb in my direction. “All her, and she even cleared it with the cop.”
The second eyebrow winged up to joined the first on Nassir’s face. “The cop knows if the Irishman comes anywhere near me he isn’t going to walk away breathing. He would never agree to that.”
He grunted and popped the locks in a sleek and modern sports car. It was so different from the old-school muscle I had been cruising around in recently that I almost made a face at it. Boys took their toys seriously, though, so I stopped myself just in time. Green eyes locked on me over the top of the car and Race’s voice was contemplative when he asked, “How do you know that’s what she wants? I thought you two didn’t like each other. Nassir said you tried to kick her ass a few weeks ago when Titus took you to the club.”
I blew out a breath that had some of my hair lifting and falling back toward my face.
“I know because I am her. We’re from the same place. We’re made of the same stuff. We’ve had to fight the same battles, and I know all I wanted was someone to value me, all of me.”
“Titus.” It wasn’t a question.
I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “He doesn’t approve of some of the things I’ve done in the past, but those things give me the ability to see all of him, so we have to accept each other. Plus, where I come from gives me enough fight to try and hold on to him when he wants to break loose.”
I pulled the door open as Race gave a dry laugh. “I always knew big brother had more going on than anyone really knew. Bax was so angry at him when we were younger that he made him out to be a monster. I always trusted Titus with my life, but I knew underneath the surface there lurked something else. None of us that survive here gets the luxury of being one thing. We all have our hands in different cookie jars hoping that at the end of the day we don’t get caught in any of them.”
The car stared with a low purr, far quieter and less angry than the noise the GTO made. Race and I were silent on the rest of the way to the club, and when he parked around back he leaned across from me to pull a gun out of the glove box in front of me. I recoiled a little because I was still jumpy about the one in the purse at my feet. I needed to get rid of it like yesterday.
“I don’t usually carry a gun, but something tells me hanging out with you might make it necessary.” The weapon disappeared behind his back and under his sweater as we climbed out of the car and headed into the overly pink building. It was so much worse in the daytime. It just screamed debauchery and degradation. It was so gaudy and ugly it hurt to look at. I couldn’t believe someone with as much style and class as Nassir hadn’t changed it yet. And I told Race that.
He made a noise of agreement as he punched a security code into a pad and a massive metal door swung open.
“Nassir doesn’t care. He ended up here by default after the Pit burned down. He’s only here until he rebuilds his club.”
“That’s dumb. He takes care of all those girls, he invests in them. He should give them someplace they can be proud of. This still feels like it did when Novak used it as a brothel and a betting house. Nassir should put a little bit of the money those girls make him into it and turn it around.” I mean, it was always going to be a strip club, but I didn’t see why it couldn’t be a nice strip club.
Race led the way to the office and lifted his hand to knock on the door. Before his fist connected he shot me a hard look. “Remember not to trust him. Nassir has his own agenda in everything he does.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “So do you.”
“Damn straight. So does Bax, so does Booker. We all do. In fact the only person you should rely on being up front with you is Titus. He’s the only one of us that is trustworthy.”
“I do trust him.” I more than trusted him, which meant he could break me so very easily if we weren’t careful.
Race nodded just slightly, some of his blond hair flipping into his eyes. “Yeah, well, he trusts you too, which is the scary part. Don’t let him down, because that isn’t a gift lightly given.”
Ugh. Stupid, handsome genius. It was like he was looking right through my skin and seeing the guilt lurking there about still having the gun and about my own original, deceitful plot. I didn’t have to respond because Chuck pulled open the door and ushered us inside.
Nassir was sitting behind a rickety metal desk that looked like it was going to fall apart. He had a MacBook open in front of him and a glower on his sinfully handsome face. Nassir was a hard guy to read but he was making no effort to hide the fact that he was frustrated and on edge. Chuck gave me a wink, flashed his gold tooth, and leaned against the door we had just come through. It was meant to look like a casual gesture, but there was no getting out of the office without going through him, and that made me feel slightly trapped.
“Have you seen Booker since he posted bail?” Nassir’s voice was smooth and smoky but there was always a razor-fine edge that laced through it.
Race snorted and shrugged. “No, and I’m not sure why everyone seems to think it’s my job to keep tabs on him. I don’t have the guy microchipped. He can come and go as he pleases.”
Nassir’s caramel-tinted gaze switched over to me. It was hard not to flinch under the intensity of it. This guy was scary, and it had me wanting to rethink this hasty plan.
“What are you doing here?” There was only annoyance in his tone as he spoke to me.
I cleared my throat so I could speak without my voice cracking. It was never a good idea to show fear in front of a predator. “I want you to find me something to do in the club so that Conner will make a move. All this waiting is getting us nowhere and he’s escalating. I’d rather you go toe-to-toe with him than the feds, which is the next option. They pulled my deal off the table.”
Nassir didn’t say anything for a long moment. His tawny eyes shifted between me and Race and then one of his pitch-black eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “This was your idea?” He asked the question of Race.
The blond man shook his head in the negative and hitched his thumb in my direction. “All her, and she even cleared it with the cop.”
The second eyebrow winged up to joined the first on Nassir’s face. “The cop knows if the Irishman comes anywhere near me he isn’t going to walk away breathing. He would never agree to that.”
