Page 5 of Poisoned Pawn

I laugh at her, but my attention is soon snared by a commotion in the direction the brunette went. Pushing my way through the dense crowd, I spot the brunette—the same one that’s been on my mind more than I’d like today—in a heated exchange with a blonde who looks like with just one breath she’d topple over in those heels, not to mention there isn’t an ounce of meat on her bones. As skinny as a fucking rake.

I watch as the blonde grabs hold of her elbow, and something deep inside me snaps. Throwing my hood up over my head, I push through into the circle, stumbling as though drunk and crash into the blonde.

I mutter an apology, but it’s lost to the high-pitched yelling and cursing of the blonde as she rounds on me and begins slapping at me. I hold her off, then push her away as a deep voice calls out.

I see the ogre as he barges his way toward us. Keeping an eye on the blonde in front of me, I turn my head a fraction, and say, “Get the fuck outta here!”

The guy snatches a hold of his girl, demanding to know if I’ve touched her. Sensing the brunette still behind me, I tell her to go again before moving closer to the guy in front of me. He’s mad as fuck.

Guess I’m fighting not fucking tonight.

He takes a swing at me, but it’s sluggish, easy enough for me to dodge. He on the other hand isn’t so lucky when I throw a fist back at him and catch him square on the chin. The hit stops him in his tracks. He freezes, then sways from side to side before he hits the deck.

The blonde girl looks to her boyfriend out cold on the floor then to me before she lets fly with an ear-piercing screech that would shatter the ear drums of a deaf person.

That screech is joined a moment later by a dozen others coming from outside.

Slowly, as I begin to move through the even thicker throng of people, whispers of a shooting reach me. Not wanting to get caught up in it, for obvious reasons, I head for the fire exit. Once I make it outside, I slip down the alley, coming out a few doors down from Neon Flux. Sure enough, the outside of the club is awash with old bill and an ambulance. And there right in the centre of it all is the brunette.

A flutter of relief goes through me, which I choose not to acknowledge, and then I hightail it out of there.

I’m just rounding the corner to my street when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Pulling it free, I see it’s Lev.

“Where are you?” he demands as soon as I answer.

“At home,” I bite back.

“Getting your cock sucked by some whore.”

“Not tonight. Your sister was busy washing her hair.”

“Fuck you, Carter. I need you to do another job for me.”

“No fucking way. I told you one job and that’s it. If I start taking out everyone you have a beef with, people are going to ask questions. I don’t work for you. I don’t work for anyone but me. End of fucking story.”

“Hmmm, I understand. Let me put it this way, if you don’t do this for me, then I can pull the plug. On everything,” he says keeping his tone light but weighing his words with the full force of his threat.

I’ve known Lev for several years, watched him rise through the ranks of the Bratva under his father the pakhan. I’m no fool. We aren’t friends. And his threat proves that.

Sensing I need a little more of a push to agree, he adds, “You owe me, Carter.”

Clenching my jaw, I breath deep through my nose. Once I’m sure I can say what I need without letting him see how pissed I am, I say, “I don’t owe you anything. I paid my fucking dues, Lev. Tonight was it.”

He sighs, and I sense there is more than he’s saying to this favour. For him to attempt to blackmail me, it must be big.

“What’s going on?” I ask, reaching my front door and letting myself in while I wait for him to answer.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

Before I can ask anything else, he ends the call. He knows I’d never back down. I have nothing to lose by saying no. Sure, he could have me taken out, or his father could, but there is nothing holding me here. Nothing worth breathing for except my sister, and I’ve made damn sure she’d be well looked after if I should disappear. There was a time when that threat would have worked, but not anymore.

I’ve been owned before and fought fucking hard to pay for my freedom. I refuse to do it again.

I toss my keys down on the counter as I enter the kitchen and head straight for the fridge to grab a beer. My evening turned to shit. I didn’t get my dick wet, so now I’m stuck with blue balls and wondering what the fuck has Lev so rattled he’d threaten me with something he and I both know is next to useless.

There is also the matter of the unnamed brunette who took my cock like a fucking champ. Our hook up a couple of weeks ago was by pure chance and no names were exchanged. Just the way I fucking like it. But she isn’t as unfamiliar to me as I am to her. I feel like I know who she is, but I can’t put my finger on it.

And I have no intention of finding out. My dick, however, disagrees and instantly hardens at the thought of her.

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