Page 18 of City of Salvation

“You’re staying here, new girl,” he said in my ear beforecontinuing the conversation with the two men. “Tell me again why you aren’t delivering your portion of the bargain? When are you going to have the girl?”

Clearly, these three were not getting along well.

The conversation continued as if I weren’t there, which was pretty par for the course with my job. Most men assumed we weren’t anything more than something pretty to press against.

“We’re working on it,” the VP, Snake, from the looks of his cut, said between clenched teeth. “But we won’t be able to do jack shit until you and your boss hold up your end.”

Against my back, I felt Jardani sigh. His heavily accented voice rumbled against me. “That was not what we planned. You go in and take the girl, quietly, and then we help you.”

Snake folded his hands on top of the table, squeezing them so tightly it was a wonder his fingers weren’t broken. “Well change the damn plan then.”

I studied the chipping MDF table, curling my shoulders in and trying to make myself as invisible and forgettable as possible. The plan was to get Jardani alone so I could do what I needed, not get stuck on the lap of my enemy while he spoke to two other gems of humans.

“And why is it that Yuri would send men to help you with your little…” Jardani paused, rubbing up and down on the top of my thigh. The intensity of his stare was overwhelming, exactly what I’d been avoiding. “What is the word?” he whispered his question and the Russian term in my ear.

“Turf war,” I said, clearing my throat when it cracked. “It’s called turf war in English.”

Two rough squeezes. His stamp of approval on a job well done. Meanwhile, my lunch was threatening to make a reappearance at the party. What the actual fuck had I gotten myself into?

“Exactly.” He gestured toward them with his hand. “Why should we help with yourturf war?”

The President spoke this time. He was young, probably only around his early thirties, with cruel eyes. Leaning forward, he folded his arms on top of the table, staring right past me at Jardani. “Because if we are in charge of the area, your boss gets to run skin through here. And this close to the border, you and I know why that would be appealing. He was already looking to stake a presence down here with Mario, but now that deal is fucked, so we’re proposing a new one.” His glacial eyes cut to me, narrowing before darting away.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.Shit.

This wastoodetailed to share around someone you didn’t know. I watched enough20/20to know you only spoke this openly about the damning details if the person listening wouldn’t be around all that long. As in dead, or gotten rid of…and they’d said skin trade.

My mind worked at a million miles a second, trying to come up with how the hell I would get out of becoming the next missing person's case.

I only had one option in this situation, and it was the man I’d just bitched to about coming to my aid when I hadn’t asked. His words echoed in my mind, causing that same tinge of regret I’d felt when I’d lashed out.

“Don’t worry, Nikki. I won’t ever step in again unless asked. Thanks for the reminder that I fuckin’ hate playing white knight.”

Iknewhe was not going to let me live this shit down.

CHAPTER 8

DEX

HOW ELSE WAS I SUPPOSED TO CHOKE HIM UNCONSCIOUS?

Laughter filled the clubhouse,mixing with the music blasting from the overhead speakers. The place was packed, brothers spread all over. It seemed like there was an ass in every leather barstool or couch.

The place had been built to party, or at least the first floor had been. Only members had access to the second level—well, members and whichever fuck-of-the-day they wanted. Whiskey coated my tongue as I took a pull from the bottle I’d jacked from the bar. Nearly caused the prospect manning it to piss himself when I told him to fuck off after he tried to tell me I couldn’t take it. He was for sure not getting a rocker. A flash of skin lightened my sour mood, but only slightly.

Johnny Boy had his dancers here tonight. He ran the MC’s strip club on the outskirts of town and, by the looks of it, he’d gotten some new meat recently.

Or maybe it hadn’t been recent.

I’d stopped going after Lotería—that damnLatin burlesqueclub—fucked me up. Now, I was a high-class strip joint kinda man.

No, you’re a blonde-who-doesn’t-want-your-dick kinda man.

My pissy mood was back in full force, but I forced my body to appear relaxed, a lazy grin painted on my face. If there was one thing I was good at, it was faking happiness for the sake of the masses.

These ladies were here tonight to put on a show on the poles peppered around for all the brothers. Some of them even wanted to put on something moreintimate, and who was I to deny the wishes of a lady?

“Now, take it off slowly, Jazzy. You know I like my cock teased,” I said in a lazy drawl as I spread my arms across the back of the couch, widening the position of my thighs so she could step between them. Actually, I didn’t know if she knew that or not. Couldn’t be sure if I’d fucked this chick before. She’d walked up as if she knew me, and I’d rolled with it.

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