Swallow (Kindred Book 2) (19 page)

Heading for the bar seemed to be a good plan, the bar man should be able to tell her where to find her party. As hard as she tried not to look at the patrons, she was aware that everyone she could see was male, heavy set, and mean looking. Taking a quick chance to scan the room, she couldn’t pick out a single female.

There was a bulky guy behind the bar and she drew her lip over her lower teeth to dampen it in preparation for speech. But when they made eye contact, he nodded sideways and she saw a curtain at the back of the room, perpendicular to the optics on the wall behind the bar. He reached over the bar and around to snag the curtain, which he pulled back just enough for her to duck through.

Expecting to go into a room containing only those she knew, she came up short. To the left were a trio of low couches set around a table only a couple of feet off the floor. The five guys there were strangers to her, so she cast her eyes right to the table bearing four men, one on each of its sides. Tuck was seated at the nine o’clock position. But her eyes caught on the guy sitting at six with his back to her. That was Brodie. Her automatic smile was joined by the urge to go to him.

The space was dark and smoke hung in a clear mist spanning the room. The music from the main bar pounded, but it was muted now that there was a wall between her and it. But she’d found what she was looking for.

Creeping over to the table, Tuck noticed her and raised his brows, but the other three at the table didn’t acknowledge her. The man sitting at twelve o’clock was fixated on Brodie, who didn’t give any indication he was going to turn around. The atmosphere was thick, she’d walked in on something going down, and she had no idea what it was.

Brodie’s hunched opponent had his dark hair slicked back and was peering at Brodie over his cards. Zara went to the table. The opponent glanced at her and his glower became a leer. Examining the tabletop, she saw chips, cash, keys, and a brown envelope in the center. Tuck and the guy opposite him had no cards, and Brodie’s were facedown under his loose hand.

“If that belongs to you, I’ll accept the bet,” the slick-haired guy said, drawing his eyes down over her figure.

Brodie leaned back, sliding his cards toward him as he did, but he didn’t lift them. A line of cigar smoke ascended from the stub in an ashtray just beside him. Having found Brodie, she didn’t feel any more reassured because this tense situation was probably the worst thing she could have walked into.

Without taking his eyes from his rival, Brodie grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him. Pulling her down onto one of his broad thighs, he draped his arm around her and she scratched her fingernails against him in her own greeting because he was still stuck on the guy opposite him. She did feel better being here, seated on him, with her legs nestled in the wide vee between his legs.

Stroking a hand around her waist, Brodie’s palm came around beneath her top and his knuckles grazed the underside of her breast in a maneuver that made her shiver. It had been a week since they’d been intimate and she’d missed him so much that her body was an exposed nerve ready to be stimulated by the man possessing her now.

Brodie picked up his cigar and took one long drag before resting it over the ashtray again.

“Who is she?” the opponent asked, still ogling her.

“Private property,” Brodie said, tipping his head back to blow his smoke into the cloud lingering above them.

The tension in her intimate center snapped, and a buzz of excitement spread across her hips. Nerves weren’t what consumed her. What she’d believed to be apprehension was arousal. Brodie was here, Tuck was on the other side of the table, there was nothing to fear. There might be five guys on the couches and two around this table who she didn’t know, and the allegiances of the strangers were all unclear, but she had utter faith that if it kicked off, Brodie and Tuck would get her out of here alive.

“Nothing is private here,” the guy said. “Everything you got is on this table.” He raised his brows and looked at the vast pot between the two of them. There were no chips beside any of the players, everything was on the table, and she glanced up to see that Tuck was intent on Brodie. “What you gonna do, Rave? Forfeit?”

“Not a chance,” Brodie muttered, setting a glare on his opponent that made her push herself closer.

“Then you got only one choice,” the cocky adversary said, straightening his form.

“Ok, Rigor,” Brodie said. He leaned down and angled her so he could kiss the side of her breast not covered by her top. He snagged her wrist and pulled her arm away from his neck as he jacked her up off his lap. When she was on her feet, he smacked her ass, but she didn’t know what was happening, didn’t know what to do. “She’s on the table.”

Horror fixed her eyes wide on her love. “What?” she snapped.

The word was instinct and as Brodie’s rival laughed, she glanced back at the door, considering retreat. “You got nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” Rigor said. “I’ll treat you better than your man here.”

The fourth guy at the table pounced up to his feet, and Tuck wasn’t too far behind, though the fourth guy got to her first. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her around the table, but she tried to resist. “Let me go!”

“Quiet!” Brodie called out. She stopped struggling when he made eye contact with her. “You do what you’re told.”

She wanted to ask what happened to priority one. She wanted to argue with him, to ream him out for bringing her here just to bet her body in a poker game. But Tuck came up beside her and slid his fingers between hers. When she glanced around at the hacker, she sealed her lips. She didn’t know what was going on or what they were doing, but she trusted Tuck, maybe more than she trusted Brodie because he had never once let her down.

Tuck led her around to where he had been sitting and the fourth guy came with them, as though he didn’t trust her not to run. Tuck sat himself down and she went into his lap without being invited or compelled into it. Being close to her kin was the only thing that might keep her sane.

“Turn ‘em, Rigor,” Tuck said, leaning past her in expectation of seeing the cards each man had. For half a beat, nothing happened, and she wanted to scream at them to hurry up.

Rigor turned his cards first and no one seemed to breathe until the last one was revealed… eight of hearts, king of hearts, king of diamonds… Her vision was beginning to blur, but her lips were so dry, she couldn’t pry them apart. Eight of spades… if the next one was a king… The black spade and the capital K, made her throat close and with bated breath, everyone fixed on Brodie.

“What have you got, Rave?” Rigor asked, pushing back in his seat.

God, she hoped that Brodie knew what he was doing. Her nails dug so deep into Tuck’s hand that she probably drew blood. She couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe, she wanted her love to save her from the possible fate he’d put upon her.

“Cut her loose,” Brodie grumbled and shoved up onto his feet to turn his back on her.

The strangled yelp definitely came from her. Tuck stood up and walked away, letting the fourth guy pull her over to him. He yanked her close and ran his hands down her back to squeeze her ass. Twisting as far as she could, she pushed at him and watched Brodie and Tuck retreat toward the couches. Brodie ducked and picked up a half-empty bourbon bottle as Tuck grabbed glasses for him to fill.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” the guy groping her asked and with one vice arm around her, he grabbed her face and forced her around to try to kiss her.

Dipping back, she spat out at his face, and his surprise made him stop. “That’s none of your goddamn business,” she hissed.

“You’re community property now,” the eager guy squeezing her said as he eyed her breasts. “You’re gonna have a great time with me and my buddies.”

“Let her go,” Rigor said and curled his fingers around her wrist. The man embracing her loosened his hold, but turned to come in close at her back and hold her in place for the examination of his buddy.

“My girls behave and they get treated right,” Rigor said. At over six feet and with noir hair, this guy was intimidating, but she wasn’t going to show him any fear.

“You can kiss my ass,” she barked. “I’m not your girl.”

“You are now,” he said, lowering to growl in her face. “And my men will take turns on you until you come to terms with that.” He was close enough that she tried to lift her leg to knee his groin, but he caught it and thrust it down. The snarl of his anger didn’t frighten her, and when he lifted his hand, she braced for the slap. But another hand appeared in front of her to block the blow, Brodie caught the wrist of her assailant before he could make contact.

“You know the rules,” Tuck said from somewhere behind Brodie. She couldn’t see Brodie’s face, but she could tell from the glare Rigor’s wore that Brodie wasn’t smiling with glee. “You gotta give him one chance to win it back.”

Rigor’s man was still at her back, so she was stuck here and while this close to Rigor, she could smell his conceit. “If he has something I want,” Rigor said, tugging his arm away from Brodie and backing away. “He has to be able to offer me something I want to make it worth taking the risk.”

Her heart worked overtime, but her lungs were starved of their fuel because she was holding her breath, praying that Brodie could get them out of this. “I have one thing that you want,” Brodie said, staying at her side, though the man at her back held both of her wrists, so she couldn’t move or even turn enough to look Brodie in the face.

Rigor’s eyes narrowed as his anger dispersed. “She mean that much to you?”

“If she did, he wouldn’t have put her on the table,” Tuck said, coming in close to the group. “You know what we want.”

The men all glanced toward the table, though she couldn’t be sure what they were looking at, all that she could see was a jumble of cash and items that she couldn’t identify beyond their physical properties. There were keys, but she didn’t know what they were for. There were papers and an envelope, nothing that she would think Brodie would value over her. Then again, she’d never thought he would put her into a pot before.

Rigor whistled and looked toward the couches. “Clear out.”

The men on the couches did as they were told and bolted, leaving her alone with Tuck, Brodie, and these two other men whom she didn’t know. “We talking indefinitely?” Rigor asked.

Zara was lost, these men knew what they were talking about, but no one was being explicit, so she was in the dark. “A month,” Brodie said and Rigor scoffed.

“Not worth it,” Rigor said, turning his lower lip out for a second.

“You know it is,” Tuck said. “How many times you asked?”

Rigor lowered his chin and curled his tongue in his mouth as if considering this abstract offer that she couldn’t fathom. “Three months, and I want both of you.”

Tuck laughed and made eye contact with Brodie. They said nothing, and she couldn’t stop peeking at every face she could see in hope for some kind of hint for what Brodie and Tuck were doing. Tuck’s shoulder rose a fraction and Brodie set his sights on his opponent again. “Done,” Brodie said, but he didn’t sound happy about making the concession.

“Ha!” Rigor called out. She was let go as the men all moved back toward the table. “High card wins.”

Tuck gathered up all the cards and shuffled them before putting the deck on the table between Brodie and Rigor. “Winner cuts first.”

He cracked his knuckles then reached for the pile of cards to cut the deck, he turned it to show a jack, and she curled her lips over her teeth to prevent herself from calling out. This was too much. Her life. Her freedom. Everything she was rested on Brodie’s card being higher and the odds of that weren’t in their favor.

Tuck and Brodie looked at each other, neither looked at her. Rigor put the cards down and stepped back. “Give it your best shot, Raven… I’ve waited for this day for a long time. A long, long time.”

It felt as though her body was frozen in a glacier, yet the thump of her insistent heart echoed in her ears. Her wide eyes were fixed on the deck and she almost didn’t notice that Brodie had looked her way. After a double take, her eyes fixed on his and he didn’t seem to be intending to do anything else until she did something, but she didn’t know what that was.

Impatient, she just wanted this over with because she couldn’t handle the suspense, but Brodie seemed to be in no rush. “What?” she asked.

“Come here,” Brodie said in a slow, deep voice.

The guy behind her had let her go, but was still close. Still, when she moved toward Brodie, she wasn’t prevented from going. As pissed as she was at Brodie, she wasn’t going to argue with him in public because he was still the better option when it came to who she wanted to go home with tonight.

She expected him to say something, instead, he took her chin, and with his thumb pressed to the front of it, he tipped her head up. “You’re a good girl.”

Except she wouldn’t be if she was forced to go with this crazy person who had threatened her with his men. Brodie dipped and pushed his mouth onto hers and she opened in answer to his request for her tongue, because she hadn’t seen him for a week and she missed him, so her reaction was automatic.

And yet, if she was told to go with the other guy, this would be the last chance she would ever have to kiss Brodie because even after she escaped the gangster’s clutches, she would never go back to McCormack manor, not after a betrayal as profound as this.