Page 2 of Twisted Games of Revenge

“I have no clue, Ash. But you see now why I’m so worried. That’s why I called you here tonight. I need you to set up a meeting with Alex Moretti. He’s been willing to work with us in the past with shit like this. Remember the last couple of escorts that went missing, he personally saw to it that the responsible parties paid dearly. I know this is his papa, but you know as well as I do the old man has lost his fucking mind, and Alex has taken over. There has to be something he can do to stop him now.”

There’s a pause in their conversation, and I wish I could see their faces, but I’m too scared to move in case they see me.

“Fuck,” Ash grumbles, and I imagine he’s running a hand through his longish hair while he thinks over his little sister’s request.

What she is asking for is exactly what I wanted Alex to do, and I already know he won’t. But what surprises me is what she said about dealing with the people responsible for the last few escorts to go missing. Why did he do that?

“Sloane, you know when we worked with him in the past it was different. He’s in no position to work with a known gang member now.”

I hear movement from behind me. “Fine, I’ll do it then,” she snarls back at him. “I don’t see why this fucking city bows down to the Morettis. It’s fucking bullshit. I’m not playing by theirrules anymore.” She strides back past me in a huff, her heels clicking on the concrete floor.

There’s a scuffle from behind me, and the two intoxicated men move past my table, knocking it as they pass.

Ash follows her as she stalks across the room. “Sloane, don’t fucking do anything stupid,” Ash calls after his sister, shoving past the men in a rush.

I roll my eyes on her behalf. Fucking brothers. He sounds just like mine, bossy and controlling. But he’s right about one thing. Alex Moretti won’t help her deal with Enzo. I watch her stride across the room in her six-inch heels, kick a swinging door open, and slam it behind her with her brother on the other side, just as furious. He bangs his fists on the door and calls out to her, but it looks like she might have just locked him out. They are a fiery family, from zero to one hundred in seconds.

“Hey there, pretty lady, haven’t seen you in here before.” An older gentleman probably in his late forties leans over my table, leering at me. His breath is laced with the stench of stale beer. He’s in a button-up, with the tie gone and the first few buttons undone, but the rest of him looks far too put together to be in a place like this. His hair neatly combed, his face closely shaven, and not a piercing or tattoo in sight.

I narrow my gaze in his direction, making it perfectly clear I’m not on offer tonight. “I’m waiting on my boyfriend. He won’t be long, and he’s extremely overprotective. The six-foot-six type with muscles bulging out of his shirt. Not someone you want to mess with,” I say with a bitchy edge to my voice that tells him not to bother wasting his time with me. Not tonight, buddy. Not ever.

“Lucky him.” He smirks as his eyes run down my body in a way that makes me cringe. What the hell is he even looking at? I’m almost completely covered up with this oversized hoody, but he’s still gawking at me like he knows I have a hot little bodyunderneath. Gross. I wave him off, making it clear I don’t want him in my space. He’s already distracted me from the fight the Stryker siblings were having and now I have lost the two of them.

Great.

Glancing past him with a huff, he takes the hint and moves on, talking to the security guard at the entrance to the elite section of the club instead. I search the room for Sloane, but she’s gone. Her brother has made himself comfortable at the bar, flirting shamelessly with one of the waitresses who twirls a long strand of chocolate-brown hair in her fingers as she giggles back at him. I think that’s the girl who was crying in the bathroom a couple of nights ago, the one Sloane just called Myriah. She must have recovered from her sadness pretty damn quickly, or he just has her distracted. Asher’s a player, you can tell. He has that whole charming bad boy aesthetic down to a T.

Ordering another drink, I sit on it for an hour waiting, scanning my phone for any more new stories on the car I dumped and the body that was found. But when I glance at my phone, seeing it’s well past midnight, I know I need to head back to the cheap motel room I booked up the street. Enzo’s not going to show his face tonight. And with Asher still chatting up Myriah, I know I’m not going to get a chance to pull her aside and ask the questions I need to either.

Disappointed, I push off the velvet seat and dust down my jeans, making sure my hair is well and truly tucked under the hoodie. Tomorrow, I need to work on a better way of hiding myself.

I leave the club, slinking my way back out through the front doors, trying to remain unnoticed. The cool night air hits my face, sending a chill over me that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

The motel room I booked is less than a street away, just a quick walk, and I enjoy the fresh air and chance to be outside alone; it’s quiet and peaceful, even if there is the hum of sirensin the distance. It’s like I can breathe for the first time in months without some dude wrapping his arm around me, directing me whatever way he wants me to go. As much as I already miss them, I like having space to think without them clouding my mind with all their overprotective bullshit.

Out of the shadows a hand reaches out and grabs me. I try to scream, but his hand crushes against my mouth, and in the same movement, another snakes around my waist as the person drags me into their body so tightly, I can’t escape.

I let out a muffled scream.

At first, I think the boys must be on to me already, but when the stench of stale beer fills my nostrils, I know exactly who has hold of me. The asshole from the bar.

I do all I can to escape, my nails scraping against his rough jacket, my elbow digging violently into his ribs, and my legs flailing wildly as he drags me down the foul, dark alley behind The Raven’s Nest.

“Don’t see that big tough boyfriend around now, sweetie. Too good for me, are you? Well, you know what I do to stuck-up bitches who think they’re too good?” His breath comes over my ear, warm and musty, making my stomach roll. “I show them how fucking good I am.” He shoves me into the solid brick wall from behind, and I smack my face against the rough brick, the abrasive surface scratching open my skin. “No one turns me down and gets away with it. You don’t get to be as powerful as I am by walking away from what you want.” He shoves a knee in between my legs, forcing them open.

Oh, dear God, he’s going to rape me. Through my panic I try to remember my training. This is why I worked so hard in the gym with Geovani. There is no way in hell I’m going to let this fucking prick touch me. I sink my teeth into the hand covering my mouth, and he loosens his grip on me a little, giving methe upper hand. I bring my elbow back to collide with his nose, feeling the solid connection as I hear a crunch.

Grunting in pain, he staggers backward.

I spin around to face him. Blood rushes out of his nose, and he stares up at me, his eyes darkening to psychotic as he spits the trailing blood at me.

I don’t have a second to waste. I throw a right hook, taking him off guard and smashing him right across his jaw.

“You fucking little bitch.” Furious, he runs at me, knocking me back into the wall, all the air flying out of my lungs in a rush. My head flings back in a way that makes it spin. “Like it rough, do you, baby. That’s fucking perfect for me. The harder you fight, the more I enjoy it.”

Something snaps inside of me, and I see red. This fucker is not going to touch me. His disgusting words fuel my fire. He moves to grab at me again, but I use the wall for support and shoot my legs up to kick him in the gut.

He lets out a groan and rears back, furious to be taken on by me.

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