Page 3 of Forbidden Need

Right. Sure. That had to be the first thing that came up.

“That’s not the beginning of the McDade story. There’s background.”

“That you never revealed to anyone. You gave the cops minimal information and your father’s Police Superintendent. You gave no media interviews, no quote, even to your own paper.”

Shifting in her seat, she took a better look at the younger woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as it first appeared.

Tulip smiled like there was much more beneath her benign exterior and took a deep breath. “Errol McDade, father to Clancy, Burl, and Amos. Burl had four sons, Biz, Score, Razer, and Play. Score spent a decade on death row after being set up by Biz, who wanted him out of the picture. When this was discovered, Score was liberated. But he’s known for settling scores, hence his nickname. He left prison, relocated to Miami and opened a nightclub. From there, he started working with the feds, gathering information on his father and older brother, Biz. His testimony put both of them in prison. He gave no incriminating evidence against Razer or Play, who stayed silent during the trial. They moved to Miami to be near Score and his now wife Shyla. The three brothers have been living there happily; Score has a kid and a second on the way.”

“So you know a lot about the McDades who aren’t here?”

That part of the McDade family had been the one most publicized in recent years.

“That’s the thing,” Tulip said, her excitement returning. “Razer is here. He came here with his wife Whisper Doherty. She’s basically the only surviving member of the Doherty family. They were the East Coast McDades’ greatest rivals. That’s a whole other story in itself.”

“One we don’t have time for,” Sersha said. “I need to know that you understand what you’re walking into before we get to this club. You can’t ask direct questions. You can’t be excited or get in anyone’s face. We’re two women going to the bar for a drink, that’s it.”

“Why would we choose Stag?”

“Because it’s safe… and dangerous at the same time.” Anxiety niggled. How many people might recognize her? How long would word of her presence take to creep up the tree? Only a few weeks ago, she’d been there every day… and in their boss’s bed. “I’m your back up, your support, not an active player.”

Interest furrowed Tulip’s brow. “You’re nervous. Reluctant. Steeple said your McDade investigation went nowhere, but word around the office is it ended abruptly. No one really knew why… Straight after Razer and Whisper showed up. What’s going on? What’s happening in that family? Why did Nicole McDade, Biz’s wife, come with them? Why is she even still a part of the equation? Her husband’s in prison. For all intents and purposes, Score put him there. Score and Razer are close, I don’t understand how Nicole fits in.”

“And that’s what you hope to do?” she asked. “Fit Nicole in? You won’t learn about their intentions in Stag.”

“Tell me how to do it? What better way is there?”

In truth, Stag was as good a place as any to begin. If someone wanted information, rumors, gossip, they had to be near the source. Tulip wouldn’t get answers ambushing Whisper or Razer directly. That would put her on the enemy list; people on that list never got cooperation.

“We just have to be careful,” Sersha said. “One wrong move, one wrong word, and things will get serious fast.”

“Are you afraid of them? Your brother’s a cop. If you want him to join us—”

“If Lach was with us, we wouldn’t get in,” she said, unsure if they would anyway.

Connel’s mood was volatile. The slightest thing could set him off. If he blacklisted someone, that was it… Until he appeared in that someone’s apartment in the middle of the night to change the rules… in her case anyway.

Was she bitter? Pissed? Maybe. She went through cycles of being angry at him, aching for him, crying, cursing, missing him. That last one never really went away. Sometimes she wasn’t mad at him, it was herself. Why couldn’t she just let him go? Let them go? It’s over, deal with it, move on. To whom? Who could possibly follow a man like Connel McDade? Memories tormented her.

The loft. The club. She dreamed of being in his office with him. Still on waking she’d reach for him or grab her phone, but she couldn’t contact him.

Communicating would be unfair on them both. And what would be the point of trying? Either he embraced her return and they wound up back where they ended last time, or he shunned her and she’d have to experience losing him all over again.

They rounded the corner and there it was: Stag.

No backing out now. They stopped behind a cab already there. Tulip slid to the front of the seat, hand dipping into her purse.

“No,” Sersha said, opening an app on her phone. “This is going on company expenses.”

She held her phone to the cab driver’s machine and then someone opened the door.

Hock. Shit. One of the guys tasked with protecting her when Connel’s bodyguards fleshed out her entourage. They made eye contact as she got out but said nothing. Tulip didn’t seem to notice the exchange. Ignoring the line of people behind the rope, Hock led them to the VIP entrance, on the other side of the regular access with its guards and metal detectors.

“Look at this…” Tulip leaned in to mutter, looping her fingers around her wrist. “VIP treatment.”

She didn’t recognize the bouncers when they moved aside for Hock. Though she spent little time ogling them. Connel rotated his guys regularly, so they’d know every inch of the operation and real estate, and always be on guard. Complacency was dangerous.

Hock moved aside, stopping at the bottom of the stairs shielded by security. Panic hit for a second, did he expect her to go up there?

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