Wild Aces (23 page)

“I want a baby,” the woman grunted.

“Yeah,” he said, “we want a baby, and if you came in here to buy that kid, then you must be able to get us a baby. So, give us a fucking baby, and no one will get hurt.”

I looked at Adrianna. There was no way I was giving this guy anything, other than the bottom of my boot in his face.

“You deaf?” he yelled. “’Cause I know I’m making myself real clear.”

“I’m not deaf. I heard you just fine.”

“Then why you standing there, doing nothing about it? I told you what I want, and I’m running out of patience.”

“I’ll—” I was cut off by a knock at the door.

Whoever was on the other side didn’t wait to be asked in. And when it swung open, my worse fucking nightmare came true.

“Another rich bitch,” Whitey said, now pointing the gun at Brea. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I-I’m the property ma-manager,” Brea said. Her mouth fell open when she saw me.

I just shook my head.

“Why you here?” he asked her.

“The su-super called me and said there was a noise complaint, s-so I came here to deal with it.”

Damn it
. This couldn’t have been any worse.

Now, Brea was involved, there was a gun pointed at her, and I was right in the middle of it, which meant she knew I’d lied about this being a work thing. I needed to get us all out of danger and get us the hell out of here.

“Trapper, I’m confu—”

“Don’t talk to him,” Whitey interrupted.

“But I don’t understand what’s going on,” she said to me. “Why are you here?”

“Put your fucking hands in the air, and go over there and join the others.”

She looked at me as she walked by to join Adrianna and her assistant against the wall.

“Now,” he said, “we was talking about you getting us a baby…”

Brea

Just because I wasn’t screaming didn’t mean I was keeping it together. Really, I was freaking the hell out as I held my hands in the air and walked toward the other two women. I knew if I didn’t hurry, I would become part of the trash that I kept stepping on, and my body would probably just add to the rotten flesh smell that permeated the place. Then there was the slimy, toothless prick who was pointing a gun at me. And to make it all worse, I didn’t understand why the hell Trapper was here.

“Don’t worry,” one of the women whispered to me as I reached the back wall. “Trapper will get us out of here.”

“Oh, I’m worried, all right.”

“Trapper will figure out what to do,” she said so confidently, so knowingly, like this was something Trapper had done before. Her voice sounded very much like the woman who had called him earlier. She seemed to have a tremendous amount of faith in him.

But my faith was gone the minute I realized he had lied to me.
Bastard
. Clearly, there was more to his life than just professional poker. Why couldn’t he have just been honest with me?

“Where’s my baby?” the woman near the kitchen yelled. She was just as greasy as the guy holding the gun. Her makeup was smudged like war paint, and her hair was a rat’s nest. She picked what looked like a massive zit on her arm as she waited for someone to answer her. “You tell ’em I want my baby. And not that one there.”

A baby?

“Daddy,” I heard. “Here, Daddy.”

“Oh my God!” I gasped at the sight of the little boy.

He looked to be about two years old, pulling himself out of the trash that covered him. I slapped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from making any other noise.

The boy tried to get his footing, but he slipped and fell back on his butt. “Help me, Daddy.” He gave up on standing and began to suck his thumb, playing with a beer can that he found on the floor.

“Shut up,” Slimy Guy barked at the boy. Then he looked at Trapper. “I’m not going to tell you again. You need to find me a baby right now, or someone in here is going to die tonight.”

“I can get you a baby,” Trapper said. “I just need a few days—”

“No! She wants one now!”

Trapper held his hands out. “Does it look like I have a baby with me? I can’t get you one without leaving, so you’re going to need to be a little more reasonable.”

What the hell was he talking about?

“Okay, boss,” Slimy Guy said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “You leave, and you come right back with a baby. But those bitches”—he pointed at the three of us standing by the back wall—“are staying right here.” He licked his cracked lips. “I’m gonna keep ’em real busy while you’re gone.”

“Don’t you be gettin’ any ideas,” the greasy woman said. “There won’t be any dick-sucking while I’m up in here.”

“Shut your mouth!” Slimy Guy screamed. He reached out with his free hand and slapped her across the face.

I jumped at the sound of her head hitting the wall. She slid down until her ass was on the floor.

“All of you, shut your fucking mouths!” he added. He walked over to Trapper, the gun shaking in his hand. “You get out of here, and don’t come back until you got us a baby.”

Trapper looked at the woman beside me, the one who had called him earlier. Something seemed to pass between them as they stared at each other. It only lasted a second before Trapper turned his back toward us and walked to the door. Slimy Guy followed him, and I felt the arm of the woman beside me move as she reached inside her purse.

Everything happened so fast after that.

Trapper paused when his hand touched the knob and looked over his shoulder. “A baby, right?” he asked as the woman hurried toward them.

“Yeah, motherfuck—” Slimy Guy was cut off when the woman pushed a gun into his neck.

“Give me your gun, or she’ll blow your fucking head off,” Trapper said.

“Fuck!” Slimy Guy shouted as he dropped the gun in Trapper’s hand.

“You okay, hon?” the other woman who stood against the wall asked me.

I said nothing.

“Get that thing off me!” Slimy Guy yelled.

“Now,
you’re
the one who needs to shut up,” Trapper said.

“Fuck you—”

“No!” Trapper roared through gritted teeth. He pulled back his arm and punched Slimy Guy in the nose.

I heard something crack, and blood spattered all over Trapper’s shirt. Slimy Guy lost his balance and fell onto the trash.

“Fuck
you
,” Trapper finished, standing over him with the gun pointed at his head. “Adrianna, go grab whatever you can find in the kitchen, so we can tie him up.”

“Trapper, tell me what you need me to do,” the woman beside me said.

While the three of them were busy tying up Slimy Guy, I couldn’t take my eyes off the little boy. He hadn’t moved; he was still holding the beer can, still sucking his tiny thumb.

I walked over to him and squatted down to his level. “Hey there, little one.”

“Daddy!” He pointed at his father.

“Yes, that’s Daddy.”

I looked over at his mother. Her head was hanging down, her face was pointed toward her lap, and her body appeared completely lifeless. None of the drama in the last few seconds had even caused her to stir.

“How about you come with me, so I can show you something really fun? Would you like that?”

I held out my hands, so he understood I wanted to pick him up. He smiled and giggled, and I lifted him into the air. Once I had him in my arms, he rested his head against my chest.

“Daddy hurted.” He pointed at his father, who was lying on the ground, as Trapper tied an extension cord around his hands.

“Your daddy is going to be okay. Let’s go do something fun.”

He nodded and squealed, rubbing my cheek with the back of his hand. I was surprised by how much affection he gave me, a complete stranger. Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. I saw the way he looked, smelled, how little he was cared for. I’d heard his father yell at him. He didn’t get any love around here.

“Let me fucking go!” Slimy Guy shouted.

I needed to get the boy out of here, so he wouldn’t see or hear any more of this.

With him in my arms, I walked toward the door and stepped around Trapper and the other women while they finished tying up Slimy Guy.

“Where are you taking him?” Trapper asked me. He was kneeling on the trash, his hands white from gripping the cord so tightly.

“Anywhere. Just out of here.” I tried not to raise my voice, so I wouldn’t scare the boy, holding his head forward so that he couldn’t look toward his father.

“Don’t go far, Brea. When we’re done here, I’m taking him with me.” He lifted Slimy Guy off the ground.

From where I stood now, I could see into the kitchen. There was another man in there, a guy the size of a professional wrestler, tied to a chair with something lacy stuffed in his mouth.

What the fuck?

“
You’re
taking him?” I asked. “But he’s not yours to take.”

I thought I knew something about Trapper. I thought we had finally connected. I thought that, by having sex rather than just sexy talk over the phone, we were opening ourselves to the possibility of having something real and special. But the man who told me not an hour earlier that there was a problem at the poker club, who instead ended up in a slum apartment with a gun in his hand, insisting on taking this child who didn’t even belong to him, was not the man I thought he was.

Whatever I knew about him had disappeared.

“I don’t have time to explain right now,” he said. “I need to figure out what to do with him…and her.”

Greasy held a bag in her hand with a black rock inside it.

“Here,” one of the women said to me, placing her arms around the boy, “I’ll take him.”

“Trapper—”

“Give her the baby, Brea.”

I was so stunned, I couldn’t even fight when the woman took the boy out of my arms and carried him to the other side of the living room.

“What are you going to do with that child?” I demanded.

Slimy Guy looked at me from the chair. His forehead was covered in sweat, which made his hair stick up in all different directions. When he smiled, nothing but black gums stared back at me. “What the fuck do you think he’s going to do with it, bitch? He’s going to sell it.”

It
.

The boy wasn’t given a name or a gender. Slimy Guy didn’t even call him his son. He referred to the boy as a product, something that was going to be sold…by the man I’d just slept with. My stomach turned queasy, and I felt like I was in the alley all over again, but this time, it wasn’t because he’d taken off his mask or because I’d seen what was underneath it. It was because I had learned what kind of a person Trapper Montgomery really was. He was a monster.

Cody had lost his life saving two children, and Trapper sold them.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more fucked up, I was so wrong.

I had to get the hell out of there.

I didn’t look at Trapper again or the women or Slimy Guy or Greasy or the little boy. I just rushed out of the apartment, down the hallway, and out of the building. I didn’t stop until I was two blocks away, and even then, it was only to call Frankie.

She picked up after the third ring. “Brea?”

I’d woken her up.

“Are you all right?”

“No,” I panted. “I’m definitely not all right.”

“What’s going on? Did something happen with the noise complaint?”

“I don’t even know where to start…but it’s bad. Really bad.” I hurried down another block and crossed the street, trying to figure out the best place to catch a cab. “It’s Trapper. He’s…oh God, I don’t know.”

“Where are you?”

“Near Roxbury, heading toward Mass Ave.”

“Oh my God…you’re
there
? At this hour?”

It wasn’t the best part of the city, but nothing could have been worse than what had already happened tonight. “I’ll be in a cab in a minute.”

“Come straight here. I’ll have wine ready.”

“Frankie…”

“I know. We’ll figure it out together.”

Trapper

I threw the hood of my sweatshirt on over my head and entered my security code at the two sets of double doors, finally making my way outside the compound. The cold air burned my lungs as I walked to the side of the building, away from the entrance and the street. My feet crunched over several inches of snow that would have been shoveled already had tonight not turned into a fucking disaster. If the building hadn’t been made of brick, I would have slammed my fist into it.