Downfall(41)

Wheezing and probably turning purple, I put more effort into freeing my throat, but the girl wasn’t going to move. I was going to have to hurt her in order to get her off me. I could see strain and remorse written all over her ravaged face, but if it was her or me… well, it wasn’t a choice I wanted to make, rather one that I had to.

I bent my knees so I could get the leverage I needed to push free. I also switched my grip from her ankle to her knee. It wouldn’t take much to jerk the joint out of the socket if I moved the right way when I pushed to my feet. She clearly anticipated the move, because she immediately started to try and escape my new hold. She was slippery, but I was desperate. I refused to let go, even when I felt muscle and bone start to shift under my hands. A dislocated bone was no joke. I hoped it would be enough to get her to tap out, but if it wasn’t… well, I would do what I had to do… just like the Devil.

She screamed. I swore. We were both red with exertion and miserable about the situation. I could feel her body resisting my movements, but it was close. In a second she wouldn’t be able to use her lethal leg anymore.

“POLICE! Stop what you’re doing. Everyone put your hands in the air.”

The booming voice made me release my prey instantly and roll over onto my back so that I was staring at the ceiling. The girl dropped to her knees and put her hands behind her head with her fingers interlocked. Clearly, she was not a first-timer when it came to dealing with the law.

The man in the pinstripe suit calmly walked to the center of the circle where I was sprawled and watched as another man, one who was huge, bigger than me, even, sauntered into the mostly empty space. He was dressed casually in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, but the gun on his belt and badge hanging around his neck were very formal and serious. I recognized him right away. He wasn’t just a cop. He was my boss’s older brother and one of the few people in law enforcement the guys on the wrong side of the law trusted.

I would bet my left nut the dark-haired Devil staged this little bust in order to keep me from having to do something I would regret down the road.

The big man pointed at me and the girl. “Get up. Go get cleaned up then come back here and explain what in the hell is going on.” He shifted his gaze to the older man and narrowed his eyes. “And who are you? You’re not a regular at the fights. Let me see your identification.” The cop stuck his hand out and stared coolly at the rich guy.

The older man immediately stiffened. “I want my lawyer.”

Typical. He had no idea how things worked here. Before the cop changed his mind, I grabbed the girl’s wrist and practically dragged her toward the locker room. She protested all the way, insisting the fight had to end. Obviously, she was more scared of the rich guy than she was of me. Once I was in the locker room, I pulled open the locker where my wallet was stashed. I pulled out a couple hundred dollars and shoved it in the girl’s hands even as she continued to protest.

“There’s a back door no one knows about if you go through the showers. It’s hidden in the third stall. Take the money and lay low for a while. I don’t know what’s going on with that rich dude, but you don’t need to be in the middle of it. Make a run for it.” I grabbed her shoulders and turned her around forcibly. “Go.” I pushed her toward the showers, and after a minute she finally moved.

Swearing loudly, I kicked a bench, which did my seemingly forever busted ribs no favors. I took a minute to wash some of the blood from my face and to check out my bruising side.

Fuck me.

It looked like I was going to owe the Devil a favor after all.





Orley



When the call came in the middle of the night asking for a ride, there was no way I could say no. Not after all the ways Solo had stepped up to the plate when I needed something from him. I had to call Erica and wake her up since it was after midnight and ask her if I could bring Noble over for the rest of the night. Erica was groggy and confused with sleep, until I told her I was going to get Solo. The mention that the guy who takes care of everyone else needed help woke the other woman up instantly. She fired no less than twenty rapid-fire questions at me, none of which I could answer. Solo’s call had been rushed and very brief. All I knew for certain was that he sounded like he was in pain, and there was a reason he couldn’t drive himself home. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep from launching into worst-case-scenario mode. But it was so hard to imagine Solo not being in control of any situation I could feel panic and fear trying to overshadow everything else.

None of my unease lessened when I finally found the warehouse, tucked in a part of the city that made my neighborhood look like Disneyland. The shadows were dark around these blocks; the feel of the abandoned buildings and deserted parking lots was twice as dangerous and desolate than where I lived. Even in the bad part of town, there were places that were worse than others, and it seemed I was collecting Solo from the worst corner on the scariest block.

He was easy enough to spot when I finally found the remote building. It was in better shape than the others around it. No graffiti decorated the outside, and the exterior looked new. Solo was standing under a burned-out street light. Head bent, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his ball cap. He had his arms wrapped around his middle and it looked like the pole was the only thing holding him upright. There were two men standing nearby, deep in conversation. Both of them watched my approach with intent eyes. I hoped I didn’t have to get out of the car because the one in the expensive suit made my skin crawl with nervousness, and the large, dark-skinned man hovering next to him looked like he could lift me over his bald head with one hand. I’d barely gotten used to how intimidating Solo could be without even trying; there was no way I was ready to jump in and play in the major leagues with the men currently keeping an eye on him.