Page 31 of Text Me, Take Me

I could use my funds to hire private investigators to look for The Vultures, but that would mean leaving an official trail between me and the biker gang. If this ends how I think it might – with blood – I don’t want anything tying me to them. Rafe was able to make the police report disappear. And there’s no firm evidence linking me to the gang, but if I make use of official channels, I’ll draw a line directly from them to me.

Or is that an excuse – a way to prolong this, so that I can be with Evie longer?

The intercom buzzes. “Sir, a man is asking for you at the front desk. Mason. He refuses to give a surname.”

I almost laugh in disbelief. The dumb motherfucker. “Send him up.”

Going to the safe in the corner, I take out my gun and stow it under my desk. Mason arrives wearing a T-shirt and jeans, his face bruised from our last encounter, a smarmy smile on his face like he thinks he’s hot shit.

When I reach under the desk, he raises his hand. “If you try anything, she dies.”

I pause. “She–who?” There’s no way he’s got to Evie.

He turns in a circle, his hands raised. “I’m unarmed. You can clearly see that.”

He’s right. No gun outlined under his shirt, no holster in sight, and he’s wearing sneakers, not boots, difficult to conceal a weapon in those.

“Who’s ‘she’?” I demand.

“You should let me show you something. I know you’ve been looking for us – well, the Italian mob has. It’s flattering, honestly, big man. The big bad mafia looking for little old me.”

He approaches the desk. I keep one hand on my gun, glaring at him.

“But the mafia are city boys. Vegas dwellers. California’s a big state, full of nooks and crannies nomads know better than men who wear slick suits and are scared to get their Louis Vuittons dusty.”

He stops on the other side of the desk. “I’m going to reach into my pocket for my phone. You need to see something.”

He places the phone down, unlocks it, then spins it so it’s facing me. The screen shows video footage of a woman bound by the wrists, a masked man standing behind her with a gun aimed ather head. They seem to be in some sort of cave… which means they could be in a countless number of locations. Still, it’s a start.

The woman looks terrified, skinny, tattoos covering her thin arms and legs. She’s only wearing a bra and underwear.

“This is Crystal,” Mason says, sounding pleased with himself.

“Who is she?” I growl.

“Not who.What. She’s the thing that’s going to make sure I walk out of here without a bullet in my head. That’s a live feed. If you get any smart ideas – like calling the cops, or keeping me here, or trying to follow me when I leave – I give the order and they execute her. Or, if I don’t check in after twenty minutes…” He mimes a gun firing. “You get the point.”

I tremble as rage grips me. This cocky bastard.

“You won’t find us,” he says. “When I took over the club, I changed things. I run it more like a military operation?—”

“If you were a military man, you wouldn’t threaten an innocent woman.”

“Don’t worry about Crystal. She’s been with us her whole life. She knows her duty. That’s more than I can say for Evie.”

“Say her name again,” I growl.

He swallows, taking a step back. “I’m not here for violence. I’m here to make a deal. See, I didn’t expect visiting Evie to cause a rift with you, Dom Russo. A billionaire. A mafia man. That wasn’t my plan. Then I thought, well, this is a chance, isn’t it? To a man like you, worth billions, fifty million is pocket change.”

“You’re trying to shake me down for fifty million? Or what–you’ll kill that innocent woman?”

“That’s your decision to make.”

“You’regoingto leave her the fuck alone.”

“Yes, we will… when you pay up.”

“You want fifty million dollars to do the right thing, to back the fuck off? I know about you, Mason. You beat women. You mess with their heads. You’re a monster.”

---