Behind Closed Doors (Behind Closed Doors #1)(68)

“Yoga class, for about two months,” I reluctantly admit.

“This is not instilling confidence in me.”

“When she hands you that chip, you’ll see why I trust her.”

And on that note, we wait. And wait, ten minutes passing like ten hours, in which Jason stares out of the window and I pace in the hallway. The instant the doorbell rings, I rush forward, open the door, and see Ella with her porcelain skin and beautiful red hair. “My God, woman,” I say, motioning her forward and wrapping her in a big hug the moment she’s inside.

She laughs and hugs me back. “I’m glad you’re happy to get the chip, but wow. Talk about gratitude.”

I lean back and grab her arms. “My town house was robbed and you wouldn’t answer your phone. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Sorry. I was in the air, then we fought with the cab driver, and then we were just here. That’s what counts, right?” She glances over my shoulder, to where I can feel Jason hovering, and then back at me to whisper, “He’s even hotter in person than on TV.”

“Enough of the mush,” a gruff male voice complains. “Let’s get to this.”

“That would be Buddha,” Ella says, indicating the heavyset, dark-haired man to her left. “What he lacks in charm, he makes up for in resources in the gaming industry.”

“I can attest to the lack of charm,” Daniel mumbles dryly, standing to the right of Buddha.

“Hello, Buddha,” I say, really not sure what to make of the man.

“Yeah, yeah, hello,” he replies, looking to Jason as he steps to my side. “Good run last night.” Then he indicates the familiar box in his hands, where I’ve stashed all the paperwork from the storage unit. “Let’s go somewhere and talk about this heavy-ass load.”

“Daniel, take the box,” Jason instructs.

“I tried,” Daniel says, grumpier than ever. “He’s holding on to it.”

“Where can we sit and talk?” Buddha asks.

“He can help,” Ella assures us. “I promise you. He knows the underbelly of Vegas.”

“You’re a friend of Ella’s father?” I ask, certain Jason wants more details about this man.

“I knew her father,” he says. “He was a bastard, but I owe him, so I’m helping. Now where the f*ck can we sit?”

Jason narrows his stare on Ella. “Who exactly was, or is, your father?”

“IRS,” Ella says.

Buddha laughs. “Corrupt motherf*cker, too, or he wouldn’t have helped me.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” Ella says, and my sweet little friend seems to be issuing a warning to this big, rather scary man.

“I’m all about the truth, honey,” he says, “and you know it.” He looks at Jason. “Last call. We go talk now or I leave you to the wolves, which is fine by me. But in case you’re hoping the chip is fake, it’s not.”

Jason is silent a beat that turns into three, then: “Dining room,” he says, his tone decidedly tight. “Lead the way, Daniel.”

Daniel’s expression clouds with disapproval, but he does as instructed. “This way,” he says, walking past us and down the hallway with Buddha and Ella on his heels, while Jason and I stand our ground.

“What do you think?” I ask softly, facing him.

“If you’re around gaming long enough, you know how to spot the mob. He’s one of them, which is trouble, but then so is blackmail. Unfortunately, we’re also backed into a corner and we need to hear him out. Equally unfortunate, that’s how way too many people make bad decisions with these people.”

“Ella knows him,” I say. “That has to count for something, right?”

“If her father runs in a crowd that allows him to hold something over Buddha’s head, her father’s dangerous. Which also means Ella is not what she seems.” His hand settles at my back. “Let’s go hear what he has to say.”

The mob. Ella’s father is dangerous. Blackmail. It’s like something out of a movie we’d rather watch than live. A movie that just gets worse as Jason and I enter the dining room, where Daniel is at the head of a table for twelve, and Buddha and Ella are side by side on the left. “What kind of name is Buddha?” Daniel demands. “We need a real name.”

Buddha locks gazes with Daniel. “Buddha stands for He Who Shall Fuck You Up If You Talk Shit About His Name.”

“Jesus, Buddha.” Ella looks at Daniel, while Jason and I claim the seats across from her and Buddha. “It’s a nickname. He’s the one you call to save your ass when no one else can. He becomes your Buddha.”

“Holy f*ck,” Daniel chokes out. “That is—”

“Don’t,” Buddha warns, and there is something about him in that moment, a sharp crackle beneath the surface, that has Daniel shutting his mouth.

“This is going well, I see,” Jason says, clearly trying to get us focused on the chip and the box.

“For Buddha,” Ella says, “this is actually pleasant conversation.” She looks at Daniel. “But tread cautiously. I only have one favor to call in.”

“I don’t need a favor,” Daniel says. “Or the kind of help Buddha offers.”