Page 60 of Shadows of Justice

Sugar and I are roughly herded away from the DJ booth and led toward a velvet rope that keeps the lowly peasants separated from the onlooking Valley Dogs.

With my heart in my throat, I concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other instead of freaking out. Sugar is smiling madly, not a care in the world, acting like we’re being taken right to the pearly gates of heaven.

We climb the three short steps up to the VIP space, and a huge dark-skinned man with sunglasses on wordlessly unclips the rope to allow us entry. I peer around and quickly take note of who is present, easily recognizing the better-known Valley Dogs. I spot T-Bone, Lucky, Magnum, and there are two others I don’t recognize—likely low-levelers. A sixth has his head down, snorting a line as we walk up. He sits up and trains his deadened eyes on us. The breath gets snatched right from my lungs, as though he’s stolen it all for his own consumption.

Hello again, Trismo.

“Esmeralda, we meet again,” the gang leader croons, sniffing and swiping under his nose. “That was quite a show you whores put on. Watching you, one could almost believe you really wanted to fuck and weren’t just paid to do it.” A ripple of laughter goes through the group of men.

If only they knew—it hadn’t been an act.

“You must be a crazy puta if you’re rolling around with this bitch,” Trismo goes on, pointing at Sugar. Sugar laughs maniacally, like what he said wasn’t offensive.

“She’s as crazy as me T-Bear,” Sugar sings, and twirls both hands by her temples and sticks out her tongue, looking as nuts as she is. Her insanity might actually be what keeps her alive around these guys. She acts too loony to get angry at.

Trismo barks a phrase in Spanish that’s lost on me, his chilling stare never leaving mine. The two low-level Dogs on the end get up and leave the booth, and T-Bone, Magnum and Lucky spread out, giving their leader some space. Their movement reveals Dante at Trismo’s side, his ears pricked and staring with unwavering focus.

Trismo crooks his finger at us.

“Ven aquí.”

We settle in beside Trismo as he leans back, spreading his arms wide across the back of the stained, red velvet seating. Despite the men shifting the couch is still crowded, Sugar practically on Trismo’s lap. Rubbing thighs with me is Magnum, a skinny fucker with only one eye. The other was said to have been carved out with a shiv during a prison fight—I remember reading that in his file.

Magnum is greasy. His hair, his skin, even his clothes look damp. He audibly licks his lips as he looks at me, methodically cataloging every feature of my face, as if he can’t decide which part he wants to carve up first. The darkened socket of his missing eye is puckered and uneven, the unsightliness of it adding to how little I want to look at him at all.

He leans over me to reach the mirror, snorting a line the size of my pointer finger in one fluid motion. As he straightens he makes a dramatized ahhh sound, like he just drank a refreshing glass of cold water. He doesn’t lean back in his seat, however. Instead, he takes it upon himself to lean in and paw my breasts, making me startle.

“Tetas bonitas,” he growls, sticking his huge, crooked nose into my cleavage and taking a mighty Thanksgiving-dinner whiff.

Before I can realize what I’ve done, I grab his face with both hands and push him off of me, hard enough that he has to grab the edge of the table to maintain his seat on the couch. Magnum looks at me with a blood-chilling stare, a snarl curling his lips. Sugar bursts out laughing, probably saving my life as it grabs his attention.

“You gotta pay if you’re gonna touch, comprendé?” I yell in Magnum’s face, trying to match some of the unhinged energy at this table.

I think that I actually see surprise flicker over Magnum’s face, lessening the murdery vibes. Trismo and Sugar both snicker, and the gang leader says something in Spanish that makes Magnum nod and settle back into his seat, a comfortable three inches between us this time.

“Whatcha got there?” Sugar asks, hunger in her voice. She beckons at the mirror with the generous mound of powdered substance on top.

Trismo backhands her across the mouth, her head snapping to the side. It takes everything inside my body not to react, my years of training causing my mind to calculate all of the ways to disable him and make for the nearest exit. He grabs her by the throat and squeezes, bringing his mouth to her ear.

“You’re such a fucking fiend,” Trismo hisses. “How about some fucking manners?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sugar chokes out, whimpering. Her lip is split, blood lining her bottom teeth.

He releases her with a shove and bursts out in his unnerving, barking laughter again, the other men chuckling along with him and joking in Spanish. Meanwhile, Magnum sneaks closer to me on the bench again, mouth-breathing the smells of cocaine and tequila onto my neck. He puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes, running his fingers up the inside of my leg. I force myself not to move, knowing I’ve already tried my luck. I breathe sharply through my mouth and pretend he’s not there.

I eye the clock behind the bar. 3:02 AM.

I’ve got to get out of this booth and back into that storeroom.

Trismo takes out the same massive switchblade he’d held against my face as before. I’d be lying if I said the sight of it didn’t make nausea roil in my stomach. He piles a bump onto the blade and holds it out for Sugar. She happily snorts the weapon clean with one nostril shut, and then releases a contented sigh. My heart is pumping so loudly I can hardly hear the music anymore, the blood thundering in my ears like the roar of the ocean.

Don’t lose your shit now, Viv. You’re so close.

Magnum crowds me, his calloused hands snagging on the fabric of my fishnets and making me shudder with disgust. I scoot away from him, moving in on Sugar’s space, but I can’t stand this fucker’s hands on me another minute longer. I’m a second away from drawing Leo’s knife and pinning his hand to the table. I don’t just want his hands off of me just for me. I know Leo’s watching, and I know this is killing him. I can’t have him bursting in here to save me and risking all of our lives.

“You think you’re too good for my boys?”

Trismo is peering at me, and had obviously been watching me evade Magnum’s advances.

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