Come a Little Closer (Kadia Club Nights Book 1) Page 13

  Growing restless, Marcus checked his watch. How long had he been waiting? Fifteen minutes?

  Hopefully, Cole and Jon had found their way to the passage Marcus was brought through to get here. With any luck, they’d be able to find him and hang back in the shadows unseen until the last possible moment.

  Otherwise, Marcus would meet his end surrounded by material items worth more than he could imagine. Maybe they’d use one of the expensive Turkish rugs to roll his corpse up. The river was just down a little ways. Or maybe there was a more convenient spot to discard bodies down there.

  Marcus didn’t like the idea of being left down there to rot and feed the worms.

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  Marcus’s breath hitched in his throat when he heard the cool, detached voice speak from behind him. He turned slowly, discovering Adam Cooper standing in the shadowy entrance to the smaller chamber. Tonight, he wore plainer clothes, a black shirt, black sports jacket, black jeans, and black boots. It was a purposeful ensemble. He had not set foot in the party like this.

  Which means there is another way into this room, Marcus thought hopefully, immediately thinking about Cole and Jon finding their way there in the dark.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice,” Marcus said.

  A cruel smile curled the corners of Cooper’s lips and he stepped into the room, abandoning the shadows. He crossed the rug-covered floors, his boots silent upon the carpets, and poured himself a drink. He held up a second glass.

  Marcus shook his head.

  “Suit yourself,” Cooper said before taking a swig. “I noticed you brought company.”

  Shit. So Cooper’s man in the blue suit had told him about Cole and Jon.

  It doesn’t matter. The plan still moves ahead.

  “So did you,” Marcus said, referring to the man who had led him here.

  Cooper chuckled and turned back to Marcus. His eyes flashed with something wicked—something he knew that Marcus did not. “I brought more than you think, Marcus. It was a rowdy little package to get all the way down here. It required more than one set of hands.”

  Marcus’s temples ached with frustration. They were already playing games. “What the fuck are you going on about, Cooper?”

  “You’ll see,” Cooper said knowingly. “You’ll see.”

  18

  Keesha

  Keesha struggled against the bonds that secured her hands behind her back. Her wrists burned and she was certain she was bleeding.

  “Stop squirming,” the man Adam had called Staff barked. He had dark slicked-back hair and wore a somewhat shiny blue suit. He’d slipped away for a time, only to return with a drink in hand and an even more sour temperament. Adam had just left, abandoning her to sit alone in a dark passageway surrounded by stone and dirt.

  Keesha swallowed past the lump of fear that had lodged itself in her throat back at Kadia. “What do you want with me?”

  “Do I look like I’m going to answer your questions?”

  Keesha spoke before her brain had time to process the words her tongue was forming. “You look like you jerk off too much and use your own come to style your hair, asshole.”

  Staff’s eyebrows inched up toward his slimy hair. A laugh fell from his lips.

  The sound startled Keesha as it echoed off the passageway walls. She scurried backward but only managed to put another foot of distance between them before her back hit the wall. Staff didn’t move from his spot where he sat on a flipped-over milk crate. He opened the front of his jacket and Keesha held her breath.

  What’s he reaching for?

  A gun?

  A knife?

  Staff pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook one loose. He held it out to her. “Smoke?”

  “No,” she said dryly.

  Staff retrieved a sleek black Zippo lighter from the same pocket. He flicked it open while simultaneously sparking the flame. Keesha watched as he pursed the cigarette in his lips and lit the end. The cigarette caught and he took a few quick drags to really get it going before pulling one large breath into his lungs and holding.

  As he exhaled, he settled his back against the opposite passage wall from Keesha. He eyed her through the smoke. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”

  “I’ve been told.”

  “It surprises me that your boss would keep you around this long.”

  “We have history,” she said defensively.

  He chuckled. “I know. And so does Mr. Cooper. Otherwise, sweet cheeks, you wouldn’t be here.”

  Keesha’s hands started to tremble and she was glad they were behind her back and Staff couldn’t see them. She’d spent her fair share of time staring back at a man who wanted to hurt her. Memories of Brett losing his shit on her back in New Orleans flooded her mind. She remembered the pain when he’d hit her in her stomach and her jaw. She remembered the recovery, too.

  What sort of pain would be inflicted upon her down in this hell?

  Would it be worse? Would she be able to hold on to her screams like she had with Brett? Or were these men so vile that she couldn’t even fathom what might happen to her down there?

  She gave her head a shake.

  There was no sense in thinking about things that were entirely out of her control. She had to bide her time. If the opportunity for escape presented itself, she would take it. For now, she would play along.

  “On second thought, I’ll have one of those,” Keesha said, nodding at his suit jacket where he kept his cigarettes.

  Staff lit her one. He held it out to her, filter facing away from himself, and she closed her lips around it and moved the cigarette to the corner of her mouth. “Thanks.”

  She took a drag, followed by another, and focused on the full feeling in her lungs. It was a distraction, and at that point, she would take whatever she could get.

  Staff checked his watch.

  “Somewhere you have to be?” Keesha asked.

  He leaned forward and peered down the passage. “Somewhere we have to be. In a few. Enjoy your smoke.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was being nice to her or playing with his food before he put it out of its misery.

  “I have a daughter,” Keesha said.

  Staff studied her with cold blue eyes. “Hopefully for your sake, she doesn’t dress like her mother when she grows up.”

  Keesha ignored the comment and the way her skin chilled with goosebumps. She was still in her stripping outfit. “If your boss hadn’t dragged me out of my place of work with a gun pressed against my spine, I would’ve worn something else.”

  “Personally, I like it.” Staff leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and blew a mouthful of smoke in her face. “But little girls need role models in their lives, not whores.”

  Don’t retaliate. Don’t let him get to you. He’s playing games.

  “You might be right,” Keesha said steadily. “But a whore for a mother is better than no mother at all.”

  Staff’s eyes flicked back and forth between hers. “I suppose.”

  “Is my daughter going to have a mother when this night is over?”

  Staff flicked his half-smoked cigarette on the ground and let it continue to burn. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

  Her blood ran cold. “Wait.”

  But Staff wasn’t waiting. He rose smoothly to his feet, straightened out his suit jacket with a sharp tug, and leaned over to firmly grip her upper arm. He pulled her to her feet and Keesha held on to her growl of pain. Her shoulders ached and her hands were numb from her bonds. The added pressure of him hauling her up by one arm wasn’t helping.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked as she picked her way down the passageway beside him. It wasn’t an easy feat in her six-inch stiletto stripper shoes with clear platforms. The stone was uneven and completely gone in some places, leaving giant patches of dirt for her heels to sink into. Every time she lost her footing, Staff gave her a rough shake and hauled her upright again.

 
“To see the big boys,” Staff said.

  Light flickered at the far end of a widening tunnel.

  Keesha’s stomach rolled over. “I don’t want to go.”

  “We don’t always get what we want, slut. Keep moving.”

  “Please.” Keesha strained against him and leaned away, but Staff kept dragging her forward. As they got close, she heard a familiar voice echo down the passageway.

  “Thank you for waiting.” The first voice belonged to Adam.

  The second voice, Marcus’s voice, drawled back, “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

  Marcus, help me. Keesha willed this not to go badly.

  Who was in more trouble, her or Marcus?

  Staff pulled her closer.

  “Suit yourself,” Adam said. “I noticed you brought company.”

  What were they talking about? Why were they meeting underground like this? And what the fuck did it have to do with her?

  “So did you,” Marcus replied.

  Keesha squirmed to break free from Staff. He growled at her and hauled her in close. She tried to pry his fingers from her arm, but his grip tightened, and she knew she’d have a handprint bruise around her upper arm for weeks—if she lived.

  Adam Cooper chuckled up ahead. “I brought more than you think, Marcus. It was a rowdy little package to get all the way down here. It required more than one set of hands.”

  Keesha knew immediately Adam was talking about her. But Marcus didn’t. Not yet anyway.

  He was about to find out.

  “What the fuck are you going on about, Cooper?” Marcus spat.

  “You’ll see,” Adam practically purred. “You’ll see.”

  Staff chuckled in her ear as they reached the opening. “Perfect timing. Ladies first.”

  Staff shoved her through the doorway. Keesha stumbled, pitched forward, and landed hard on her knees with a gasp of pain. Staff moved in behind her and stopped at her back, reaching down to gather a fistful of her hair in one hand so she didn’t get any ideas to get up and run.

  Keesha sought Marcus out immediately. They locked eyes and he took an involuntary step toward her.

  “Marcus,” she breathed.

  Staff gave her another shake. She hissed in pain but fell silent when he pressed the barrel of his gun to the nape of her neck.

  “I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you, thug,” Staff growled.

  Marcus stopped. His stare slid from Keesha and landed on Staff. “Let her go.”

  “I don’t take orders from you,” Staff said.

  Marcus turned slowly to Adam Cooper, who stood near a liquor cart on the other side of the room looking thoroughly entertained—like he was sitting front row to the best comedy show in all of New York City.

  Bastard, Keesha thought venomously.

  Adam moved from the liquor cart to one of the brown leather sofas, which he leaned one hip against. His attention rested on Marcus, whose chest rose and fell with furious breaths as his hands balled into fists at his sides.

  “No need to get testy,” Adam said calmly. “I just had to make sure I had leverage over you in case you had any bright ideas to put a bullet in my brain tonight, Marcus. I’m sure a man like you can understand the necessity of taking such precautionary steps.”

  “She has nothing to do with this,” Marcus said.

  “You’re right,” Adam said simply. “But I need you to look into her eyes and remember that my man has her. And he has that gun. If you try anything?” Adam paused long enough to let the silence stretch past the point of discomfort. Then he looked to Keesha. “Bang.”

  She hated herself for flinching.

  Adam nodded dismissively at the doorway from which they’d just come. “Get her out of here.”

  “Wait—” Keesha breathed.

  Staff hauled her to her feet by her hair. She hissed furiously at him and writhed in his grip. He spun her to him as he tucked his gun into the front of his pants. Then he grabbed her face in one hand. “Stop.”

  “Take your fucking hand off her,” Marcus growled.

  Staff’s eyes slid past Keesha and landed, she assumed, on Marcus. She couldn’t see him but she could feel her boss’s rage filling the small candle-lit cavern.

  Please don’t let me die, Marcus. Please don’t let me die.

  Staff finally released her. It took every ounce of strength she had not to fight him as he led her out of the chamber, leaving Marcus behind.

  And alone.

  Which one of them was in more peril? Her or him? She kept asking herself the same question over and over as Staff brought her down passageway after passageway until they emerged in an even smaller poorly lit space. The room was roughly the size of an average walk-in closet. Three candles burned on different ledges carved into the stone wall, lighting the space enough for Keesha to make out a few objects in the room. A black tarp, a shovel, a red gas can, and a rope.

  Was this the plan? Did Adam intend to kill them both, burn their corpses, and bury them?

  “Your boy can still come through for you,” Staff said. “This shit is a last resort.”

  “Why would I believe you?” Keesha asked shakily.

  Staff shrugged and moved to the doorway they’d just stepped through so he could lean up against the inside of the archway. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Suit yourself. I have no reason to lie.”

  Keesha tried to adjust how her wrists were pressed together. The pain was growing more intense by the minute. She gritted her teeth against the burn and the sharp ache.

  “I can loosen them,” Staff offered.

  “What the fuck is with this Jekyll and Hyde act?” Keesha asked, recoiling as Staff stepped forward. One minute, the jackass was being nice to her, and the next, he was throwing her on her knees and trying to rip her hair out of her skull.

  Staff paused, looming over her. “It’s part of the job. Marcus had to believe you were in danger.”

  “Aren’t I?” she challenged.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want your help.”

  Staff straightened. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t go complaining to me when your wrists start to—”

  He didn’t get his last sentence out.

  Something slammed into Staff’s back with enough force to knock him forward onto his hands and knees. He let out a grunt of surprise and landed hard in front of Keesha. She stumbled backward as the man at her feet tried to gather his senses. She looked to the doorway, where a familiar face met her.

  “Cole?” Keesha whispered.

  His lips peeled off his teeth in a snarl and Cole stepped into the small room. He grabbed Staff by the back of his jacket and hauled him onto his feet and out into the hall, where he slammed him against the wall with enough force that Keesha heard Staff’s teeth clash together.

  A second man with dark hair who Keesha did not recognize stepped into the small room. He pulled a knife from his belt. “I’m a cop,” he said. “Turn around. Let’s get those ropes off you.”

  Keesha did as she was told. “Why are you here?”

  “For Marcus,” the dark-haired man said.

  “But—but you’re—”

  “A cop? Yeah. It’s complicated.” He sliced through the bonds on her wrists.

  Keesha’s arms felt like rubber as they fell to her side. It took serious effort to lift them up so she could inspect her wrists.

  The rope had cut through a couple layers of skin, leaving blister-like rings in her flesh. It was painful but not nearly as bad as she thought it would be.

  Staff, on the other hand, was suffering a lot of pain.

  Cole had him by his throat out in the hallway and had already broken several ribs.

  “Stop,” Keesha said, hurrying out into the hallway. “You’re going to give us away.”

  “Fine,” Cole grated. He wound back and dealt a hard blow to Staff’s jaw, knocking the man out cold. After Staff hit the ground, Cole and the police officer dragged him across the stones into the room wit
h the gasoline, rope, and other items. They used the rope to bind him.

  Cole opened the gas can and sniffed the fuel inside. He promptly blew out the candles, twisted the cap off the can, and poured the fuel out onto the stones.

  “What the hell are you doing?” the dark-haired cop asked.

  “Do you want to leave this fucker with an accelerant?” Cole asked. “There are too many people down here to risk a fire.” Once the container was empty, he tossed it aside and went to Keesha. He took her hands in his and inspected her wrists. “Did they hurt you anywhere else?”

  She shook her head and fought off the tears that tried to escape her. Now that she had a chance to breathe, the panic was racing to the foreground. “Marcus is with Adam Cooper. He needs our help.”

  “It’s all going according to plan, Keesha.” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He gave it a pull, wrapping her up snug.

  “Plan?” she asked incredulously. “What plan?”

  “We should get her out of here,” the cop said.

  “We don’t have time, Jon,” Cole said.

  The cop, Jon, gritted his teeth. “We can’t leave her down here.”

  Keesha pulled away from Cole but appreciated the warmth of Jon’s jacket. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here. I’m not leaving. Not without Marcus.”

  “We don’t even know where the fuck Marcus is,” Jon said.

  “I do,” Keesha said, looking back and forth between both men. “I can take you to him.”

  Cole bent down and took Staff’s gun from where it was still tucked in the front of his pants. He patted the unconscious man down in search of more weapons and found a small knife strapped to the inside of his forearm. “Lead the way, Keesha.”

  She wasted no time stepping out into the hall and turning right. The men followed, and Keesha only stopped to lean against the wall and take her shoes off. She left them behind and continued barefoot down the hall, finding it much easier to move quietly and simultaneously find her footing and keep her balance.

  As they approached the light where she knew they would find Marcus, she looked back over her shoulder at Cole. “What is your plan, Cole? Just tell me.”