Death Layer (The Depraved Club) (10 page)

“She’s my dog, motherfucker!” Bane shouts. “Not the club’s.
Somebody call the goddamn vet.”

Jack’s voice is gravelly and steady. “You shouldn’t have
brought her on the premises.”

“What are you talking about? I live here! I pay you fucking
rent!”

“This isn’t a fucking pet spa. If a dog’s in the building,
it’s gotta fight to earn its keep. If it can’t fight, we put it down. I’m tired
of your fucking bleeding heart bullshit.”

Smokey steps up and presses the handle of a Glock into
Bane’s chest. “End her misery,” Smokey says with a pleased smile. “Or we’ll do
it.”

Bane’s jaw clenches. He snatches the gun from Smokey and
points it at Jack.

“I’m tired of you fucking around with me, Jack,” Bane
hisses. “We both know what this is about. You don’t like that I make my share
with the legit fights and drugs alone and you’re trying to bury my stream,
force me into trafficking. So help me Jack, you’ll never get me to buy and sell
people or kill innocent dogs. So unless you’re willing to murder a brother in
cold blood, we’re at checkmate.”

Jack’s face is five shades of purple. “You’re the one
pointing a gun,
brother
.”

“Jenny is my dog, not the club’s dog, asshole,” Bane shouts.
“Raised her from a pup. I’ve got a license for her and everything. So I’m
taking her home. Red, pick up the dog.”

“What?!” I squeak, startled. “Me? Are you crazy?”

 Bane whips furious eyes and the gun barrel over in my
direction and I jump, my insides turning cold.

“Ok, wrong question,” I stammer. “You’re totally fucking
crazy.”

“Pick up the dog, Red, and carry her to the elevator. Now!”
Bane takes a deep breath and adds as an afterthought, “
Please
.”

I look from Bane’s stony face to the barrel of gun and to
the dog, unable to decide which of the three is most likely to kill me. It’s a
real toss-up. The dog and I lock eyes and something fuzzy and protective stirs.
This creature is hurt, threatened and scared just like me. And—fuck—I love
dogs. It breaks my heart to see her suffer.

I take a tentative step closer, forcing my breath to be
steady and calm, and slowly lift my hand within sniffing distance of her nose.
She starts to growl, looks over at Bane for support, and sniffs. I don’t even
realize I’m holding my breath until she licks my hand and I let out a sigh of
relief. She’s accepted me.

“Good girl,” I whisper. “Come on, good girl. It’s okay
sweetie.”

“Touching,” hisses Smokey through clenched teeth.

Ignoring him, I carefully wrap an arm around Jenny’s bottom
and back and scoop her towards the edge of the table. She’s a good size, maybe
60 or 70 pounds, and hurt bad. The best way I can figure to pick her up is just
to hug her on to my body.

“That’s a good dog,” I grunt, shifting my hold. She curls
into me instinctively, whimpering. It breaks my heart. “Alright, let’s go!”

I glance over at Bane, whose borrowed Glock is pointed at
Jack again, and back up out of the room. As soon as I’m in the hallway I turn
tail and retrace my steps down the hall toward the elevator, my adrenaline
provoked tunnel vision begins to fade and hysteria threatens to overwhelm me.

At the elevator bank I use the wall to prop up the dog so I
can free a hand to smash the call button. As I do, I see Bane backing into the
hallway with his gun still pointed back at the bikers in the room. He’s got mad
skills at walking backwards in a hurry.

“Elevator open Red?” he calls.
“No,” I shout back, but then the bell dings and the door slides open. “Yes!”

“Get in, move to the side, and hold the door for me.”
I obey, and hear the sound of his footsteps pounding down the hall. He ducks
and rolls into the elevator like he thinks he’s James Bond or something. I
stare at him in a heap on the floor. Nothing happens for a moment except that
we blink at each other.

“I thought you were in the same gang!” I cry. “Don’t you
guys ever have normal conversations without drawing guns on each other?”

“Yeah we’re in the same fucking gang,” Bane shouts back,
“But I told you, it’s complicated! Shut the door!” I hear more footsteps
running down the hall. “Hurry up!”

“Shit,” I curse, struggling not to drop the dog and find the
button. “Shit!”

“Shut the door shut the door shut the door!” Bane shouts.

There’s the boom of a gunshot and a metallic ping.
Horrified, I look at a new hole in the elevator wall and let out a righteous
scream.

“God damn it, out of the way,” Bane hollers. He jumps to his
feet, knocking me to the side, and slams the palm of his hand on the door close
button, firing blindly out of the elevator until the door finally slides shut.

As the elevator lifts, he flutters his lips in relief and
turns to me to take the dog from my arms. “It’s okay,” he coos, “it’s okay
girl.”

“They just shot at me!” I scream, punching the wall. “Your
fucking gangster friends shot at me because of you and your big mouth! And all
you can think about is the dog?”

“I was talking to both of you,” he says. “You’re both
girls!”

Furious, I raise my hands to pull out my hair or his eyes or
something, but I catch a look at Bane’s face and see that shit-eating grin
again. Even Jenny seems to be smiling. In spite of myself, laughter bubbles
through. Maybe it’s stress laughing. Or hysteria. I don’t know. Whatever it is,
it completely breaks me down until I’m snorting and bent double and Bane is
laughing too.

“You bastard,” I grunt.

Bane’s smirking and laughing at me, so I shove his arm
playfully. Just like I’d shove Blake or Ava. I catch the intimacy of the
gesture and abruptly halt. Bane is not my friend. He’s not my family. Why am I
suddenly feeling and acting like he might be? My smile freezes and I step back
away from him into the far corner of the elevator. The walls seem to be
shrinking in on me.

“Hey, whoa, easy girl,” Bane says. “What’s going on? I’m
talking to you now, Red. Still with me? Don’t flip out on me now. The bullet
missed everybody. You’re ok, ok? I can only carry one wounded woman at a time.
I need you to be ok.”

I lean my forehead against the cool metal and force myself
to breathe nice and slow. “No, yeah, I’m fine.”

Too fine
, I want to add. Getting too comfortable.
Getting too used to being Bane’s new pet and going on little adventures in the
Death Layer building together. One happy, twisted, fucked up little family.

By the time we’re safely locked and bolted back inside
Bane’s studio suite, I can tell he’s worried sick about the dog. I spread a
towel over the bed and he lays her out on top to inspect her wounds.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Hang in there, Jenny.” He whips a cell
phone out of his pocket and shoots out a text message. “I’m going to have to
take her in to see someone,” he explains. “I’d bring you, but you know, flight
risk.”

My heart leaps to my throat. “You’re just going to leave me
here?”

I’m not sure if I’m terrified or relieved at the prospect.
If Bane leaves me alone, surely I can figure out a way to escape. My eyes are
darting around the room just thinking of it—maybe the narrow window in the
bathroom, maybe I can run down the stairwell again? Maybe I can find that
shotgun of his and shoot my way out.

On the other hand, if Bane leaves I’d be alone in this awful
place. What if someone found me by myself, unprotected? I know Bane’s saved me
from rape once. While that’s not enough to make me trust him, exactly, it still
makes him the closest thing I have to an ally. His voice plays through my head
from that first night:
I’m the best fucking thing that could have happened
to you.
I’m still not convinced that’s true, but it could have been worse.

Much worse.

“Hmm, you’re right. Leaving you alone is not gonna work.”
Bane straightens and frames my hips with his hands, squaring me to face him. He
probes me with his eyes, then chuckles and shakes his head. “Nope, I don’t
trust you either. What a team.”

Fuck. Can he read my fucking mind?

Bane gives me a little shove so that I stumble onto the bed
next to the dog. The cell phone is in his hands again and he’s texting up a
storm. “I’ll have him come here.”

I watch him put away the phone and stare at his dog with
lonely, angry eyes. Something stirs in me, pity maybe. A man who loves a dog
that much can’t be all bad.

“Is it true?” I ask. “What you said to Jack back there, I
mean. That the club’s against you because you disagree with dogfights and human
trafficking for D.L., and Jack’s trying to force you into it? Manipulating
you?”

He cocks an eyebrow at me and sweeps his gaze over my body
wryly. “What gave that away?”

I flush. Obviously, I am a pawn in Jack’s game. Bane’s been
telling me this all along. “Good point.”

Bane’s grin grows mirthless and bleak. “But you believe me
now, is that it?”

We stare at each other for along, heavy moment. A smile
plays over Bane’s lips when I can’t immediately deny it. He rubs his hands over
his face and suddenly looks very tired.

“How many times have you seen me talk to a brother without
it turning violent, Red?”

I shake my head slowly, comprehending. “Not once.”

Bane nods. “I’ve been in troublesome waters since the D.L.
Club opened last winter. It made me uneasy from the start, catering to rich
pricks with perverted appetites. Not to mention the people behind all of it…”
He stares off blankly for a moment. “Real fucked up people, with big reach.” He
continues, “I felt like it was a slippery slope and turns out I was right. I
don’t like the sex trade any day, and definitely not when its workforce is not
of the volunteer variety.”

I scoff. “Is it ever anyone’s choice?”

Bane shrugs. “In this city?” He winces. “New York is a
fucking hub for global human trafficking. I sure didn’t want to step in that
quicksand, so I spoke up. Told Jack and the officers I’d keep running the
schedule for the boxing ring Death Layer partners with uptown. That’s fine with
me, just grown men beating each other to a pulp for money. Got no moral
objection to that. Damn noble sport, clean business. Straight up, old-fashioned
gambling—nothing fairer in life.”

I shake my head in disagreement, but Bane only smirks.

“It seemed like they’d let me, too,” he sighs, “Until a
month ago when Jack said he wanted to make the D.L. Club downstairs the club’s
sole business endeavor. Turns out the rich perverts love it and it’s a fucking
cash cow beyond even Keller’s wildest dreams. So the club voted. That vote was
the beginning of the end for me; I was the only nay besides Judge Jefferson,
but he’s easy to control. Now I’m persona non-grata. ”

He slumps down heavily on the bed next to me, and Jenny
nuzzles into his side. He checks his watch and frowns. “Vet better get here
soon.”

“Why?” I ask, curious in spite of myself. “Why did you vote
nay?”

“Why?” He sounds indignant and props himself up on his
elbow. “What do you mean why? Why do you think? You’ve got a fucking brain
haven’t you?”
“I mean, I think human trafficking is fundamentally evil,” I say carefully,
“But I don’t know what a gangster’s objection might be.”

“I’m a member of a motorcycle club,” he grunts. “A fucking
biker, Red. Not a gangster. But you’re insinuating that since you think I am a
soulless thug, I therefore can’t possibly have a conscience, right?”

“Well, yeah.” I’m not letting up here. “You do lots of
things a normal person would say are wrong. Shooting bullets at people.
Threesomes with women you call your “property”. Whatever you were doing in the
alley this morning. Illegal gambling, you just said. Holding me prisoner.”

Bane grits his teeth. “You’re oversimplifying things.”

“It seems pretty simple to me.”

He pushes to his feet and paces. “It started out good, you
know? It didn’t used to be like this. We used to stand for something, Red:
strength, freedom, community, and independence from a broken system. Just the
stuff any young guy wants. Yeah easy money and sex too, sure, and why the hell
not, you know? You only live once.”

“And a gang is the best choice?”

He laughs. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,
princess. We don’t all get scholarships to fucking Yale.”

“Michigan!” The angry correction is out of my mouth before I
can stop myself. Bane is studying me with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a public
university.”

“I’m sure it is.” Bane rubs his face wearily. “Look, Death
Layer was great before Jack jumped into all this fucked up slave market shit.
It’s supposed to be about freedom, Red, don’t you see? But now we’re suddenly
selling people. How does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t,” I agree quietly.

Bane’s staring at me, his face strained. He licks his lips.
“My sister was kidnapped,” he admits. “Alice. She was fourteen. I was sixteen.
We never found her. Beautiful young girl, I always figured she must have ended
up in some hellhole like this, raped and used until she...”

His voice catches and he suddenly stops moving, gathering
himself.

My mouth is dry and it’s hard to find words. “I’m…I’m sorry,
Bane.”

He shakes his head and raises bleak eyes to mine. “Part of
the reason I joined the Death Layer MC in the first place was so I’d be
strong,” Bane explains, his voice husky with emotion. “So no one could mess
with me and mine again. Things started changing but they used to just let me do
other things. I’m Road Captain, so I was traveling lots of the time anyway. But
now Jack’s leaning and leaning on me. I think only one of us will live through
it.”

Bane shakes his head at me sadly. “You’re just the cherry on
top, Red. Wrong place, wrong time. I didn’t want this, I don’t like collateral
damage.”

“Well, too bad,” I murmur, “Because here I am.”

“Here you are.” His haunted eyes are searching me, this time
with some urgency. He takes my shoulders in his hands and leans his head down
close to mine. “Tell you what, Red. I’ve got a plan. I’ve got a windfall
coming, soon as I can actually track down Blair. I’m getting fake papers.
Immigrating. My Dad’s from Canada, he’s got a cottage in Nova Scotia where I
can hole up in and start over fresh. Why don’t I take you along? You don’t
belong here. I can get you out.”