Page 82 of Their Princess

“Get the prospects on that.” Sas waved him off.

“Sure thing, boss.” Teller remained calm with the VP yelling at him.

Cool under pressure. I liked that in a soldier.

“What about the clubs?” I asked.

“Mafia’s had a monopoly on those for years,” said Sas, one brow lifted. “And we don’t have connections.”

“I can make introductions,” I offered.

I would need to speak with Mass to ensure there was room, but clubbers and ravers seeking their next high were a dime a dozen. Many of the Las Vegas club owners also had clubs, bars, and underground raves in LA and San Fran. The network was close knit to keep the police out.

Sas appraised me, likely to see if my offer would hold water. “It’ll take too long. We need to move it now to make up for what we lost.” He stepped over the police tape and headed for the half-demolished warehouse.

I glanced around for cops.

But Sas called over his shoulder. “Quit twitching. I called in Ghost, Merry, and Pip to create a diversion at the bar a mile away. They’ll pull the cops there while we search the warehouse for anything that may have survived.”

I shot a questioning look at Teller, but the man just shrugged and followed Sas into the cordoned off area. Never too careful, I glanced back at the dock where twilight was settling in, the sun glistening off the water in the distance. Things were quieter than I would’ve expected—or liked.

The other businesses had or were closing up, workers leaving the docks, and there was indeed a marked lack of security. Once I assured myself it was as safe as possible, I followed them inside.

The front half of the warehouse was charred and crumbling, and water stood in puddles near the previous façade. Sas placed his boots carefully but walked over the fallen beams and burned pallets with ease. I guessed having legs rivaling a giraffe’s made the trek much easier.

“Shit. This place is probably worth bulldozing rather than trying to salvage,” Sas said.

“Gotta wait for the cops to release it from custody first,” said Teller as he moved up next to the VP.

Sas stopped suddenly, scanning the debris on the floor. Then, he started moving things aside and brushing away the ash until he revealed a plate in the floor. Dusting off the soot from his hands, he squinted at the far wall, then nudged Teller.

Understanding the silent command, Teller jogged over and returned with two kettlebells. Or at least that’s what they looked like. When he dropped one onto the plate, it clanked and boomed and glued itself to the floor plate, reminding me of the sound a trash truck makes when it empties dumpsters.

Teller repeated with the second one. “Gimme a hand,” he called over his shoulder to me.

I grabbed onto the second one, and together, we lifted the plate to reveal stairs leading into the concrete foundation.

Sas rushed down the stairs, disappearing before he hit the bottom. Teller followed and then me. The room was dark, save for the bare bulb Sas turned on with a pull string.

“We barely have anything!” Sas yelled, too fucking loud for this uncontrolled environment.

I peeked upstairs, listening intently. At least we were somewhat hidden by the subterranean nature of this space. I had done three loops around the warehouse to make sure people were far enough away before I’d dismounted my bike. And Sas said the club had created a diversion. Regardless, I still couldn’t go along as easily as Teller.

I didn’t know this place. It wasn’t safe.

My retort about getting the money from Massimo sat on the tip of my tongue, bitter and pointless. It hadn’t gone over well last time. All I could do was hope Sas would get over his prideand work with the resources he had available... that was, as long as Adelina wasn’t in danger.

Her little stunt of accompanying Sas, Teller, and Graff up to Red Rock Canyon today already had me on edge. One of the prospects—Ghost, I thought—said that she had purposely gone, so I couldn’t blame Sas.

Still, based on his behavior so far, I would’ve thought he would drag her back into her bedroom and lock the door. That suited me just fine, because at least when she was locked up, I could be reasonably sure of her safety.

As I stood there and waited on Sas to figure out whatever he was puzzling over, the ash clawed its way into my nostrils. The only things missing were the acrid smells of old blood and unwashed bodies, but the doused burning scent sparked my adrenaline into a gushing river. It made my skin tingle and hairs on my neck stand on end.

The battle memories returned, the hypervigilance to any movement. Then, it had been better not to think of anyone moving as people—the terrorists, the women, the children.

Just aim and shoot to kill.The mantra that’d played in my head then haunted me now.

The LA wind picked up above our heads, whistling through the warehouse. I blinked back the old memories. Unfortunately, my past and current collided. One battle replaced another, and no one was innocent. Especially not me.

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