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“And in the meantime, bring me a shot of Jameson.” I tucked a twenty between her tits. “Keep the change, doll face.”
She glowered and pulled the money free, giving me an excellent view of her ass as she went to do as she was told.
It didn’t take long before Chantel emerged, looking as dangerous as ever, hard as fucking rock.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” Chantel drawled, taking my measure as if trying to decide whether to kiss me or kill me.
When she commandeered my shot, slamming it before taking her seat opposite me, I figured the odds were in my favor that she was at least curious. “I heard Manny cut you loose.”
Ah, going straight for the tender spots. “You heard right.”
She chuckled in amusement. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You lack that certain something in the ring. It was just a matter of time.”
I bit back my growl. Nothing like being emasculated by a nut-chewing ball-buster. Good fun.
“So what brings you here? Want to drown in pussy, baby?” she asked, her smile widening but her gaze, shrewd. “Forget your troubles between soft thighs, that kind of thing?”
As sexually pent-up as I was, the idea held merit — for a nano-second. I wanted release but I didn’t want anyone but Charlie.
Tough luck, for me.
If Charlie had her way, my balls would drop two frozen, blue sacs of flesh before she helped me out in that regard.
I shifted against the discomfort. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Oh? That kind of conversation? I’m intrigued. Give me a hint.”
“Payback.”
Chantel pursed her lips before quirking a small grin. “You do know how to tease a woman. All right, follow me.” She rose and led me to the back room where her office was. She sank into a leather desk chair and grabbed a cigar, lit it, and blew a smoke ring my way, saying, “You got my attention…talk.”
“How’s it feel to hand over forty percent of your profit to Davonte each month?” I asked, knowing it would piss her off. I needed her mad but not at me. As expected, her expression darkened. “Yeah, I figured it wasn’t a good feeling. Imagine what you could be doing with that money if you didn’t have to piss it away each month.”
“Your point?”
“My point is…if you want out from under Davonte…you gotta take a stand.”
Chantel smiled, cold and unamused. “Well, aren’t you the smart one. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” She took a long puff on her cigar before continuing. “Why are you really here, Damon? If you’re looking to get in my pants for old time’s sake, all you had to do was ask.”
“I’m not here to fuck,” I growled. “I’m here to find out if you have any balls aside from the ones you lop off the men in your life.”
“Get to the goddamn point, then.”
Time to put up or shut up. Either I was about to sign my own death warrant or I was going to gain an unexpected ally. It could honestly go either way.
“Davonte is running deals through Pussywillow. You’re his major hub but you’re still giving him forty percent of your business and you’re no longer his girl. What’s he got on you that you’re still playing his game?”
Chantel’s faintly amused laugh did nothing to dispel the sudden darkening in her eyes.
She stubbed out her cigar and poured herself another shot from a private stash of whisky.
“I never took you for one with brains, Damon, but it seems you’re more observant than I gave you credit. What I don’t know is why. Why do you care what my deal with Davonte is?”
“Because I think we could help each other get out from under that fucker’s thumb.”
“Interesting. And what’s he got on you, sugar?”
“That’s my business.”
“I think it’s my business, now.”
In other words, she ain’t talking until I do.
“Manny cut me loose, I got shit-faced drunk and somehow got it into my fool head it might be a good idea to break Davonte’s nose. He didn’t agree. Now I’m supposed to bring him this girl he wants and in return, all’s forgiven and I’m on the salary as one of his men.”
“You broke his fucking nose?”
“Yeah.”
Chantel whistled in appreciation, envy curving her lips. “I’d have given my right tit to see that happen. I hope it hurt.”
“I can’t say. I don’t fucking remember anything about that night.”
“Damn. You screwed yourself hard and without lube.” She finished her shot, wiped her mouth and said through a grin. “You know he’s going to kill you. He’s lying through his teeth to get what he wants. As soon as you deliver the girl…he’s gonna deliver a bullet.”
“Yeah, I already figured that out.” I skewed my gaze at her. “So what’s he got on you?”
Chantel shook her head. “Nah, you tell me why I would throw my chances in with you when it looks like you’re on the losing side.”
“Change is coming, Chantel. Either you’re on the right side or the wrong side. I’m giving you the opportunity to be on the side of the winner.”
“And what makes you think you’re going to win?”
That was a good question. She was calling my bluff. Fuck it, I was living on borrowed time anyway. “Because I got someone who wants to take down Davonte even more than me and they’re gonna do whatever it takes to see that happen.”
Chantel assessed me openly. “Such as?”
“Terrance Johnson.”
Her gaze narrowed in disbelief. “No fucking way.”
My lie was a whopper. Go big or go home, right?
“Davonte’s crossed the line. He’s trying to horn in on Johnson’s territory and he doesn’t much like that. He’s ready to swat at the fly.”
“And how exactly is he going to do that?”
I leaned forward, my gaze hard. “By taking what Davonte treasures most…his money. I know you’re the key to his operation. All you gotta do is cooperate with Terrance and we’ll all walk away with money in our pocket and Davonte off our ass.”
Chantel held my stare, the tension between us growing by the second. Would she take the bait? Was Chantel just hungry enough for Davonte’s blood to throw her chances in with an unknown?
Forty percent was a lot to cough up each month.
There was bad blood between Chantel and Davonte…but was it enough to make her stick a knife in Davonte’s back?
Everything hinged on Chantel playing the game.
The moment seemed to stretch between us, lengthening by the second, drawing out the dread that I’d gambled and lost.
Chantel broke the silence with a smile. “You’re a crazy fucker. I always liked that about you, Damon. Fine, count me in. But I want a meeting with Terrance. You set it up. Then, we’ll see just how serious this shit is.”
Great. A meeting with Terrance Johnson…that ought to be fucking impossible.
But I nodded as if that would be a walk in the park. “Give me a few days to make it happen.”
“Don’t take too long, baby,” she warned with a sassy chuckle. “This offer has an expiration date and one more thing…if it turns out that you’re bullshitting me and this whole deal goes sour…I’ll help Davonte shove your nuts down your throat. Got it?”
I rose. “Yeah, I got it. You just keep your mouth shut until I call you. If Davonte asks…you haven’t seen me.”
“You got it, sugar dick.”
I left Chantel in her office and high-tailed it out of the club.
I’d gained an ally but I’d just set myself up for an even bigger fail.
Now I had to convince Terrance Johnson that it was time to stake his claim on his biggest rival’s territory…without any provocation.
Basically, I’d just started a war between the two biggest kingpins in Detroit.
And neither had a clue.
Chapter 18
Charlie
My eyes opened the minute I heard the key at the door.
I held my breath, knowing it was Damon.
A quick glance at the bedside alarm clock said it was nearly three in the morning.
Where’d he go?
Something that felt oddly territorial pinched but I shoved it away. It was none of my business where Damon went or who he went with.
He could’ve fucked an entire block of hookers and I wouldn’t care.
None of my business.
But I was still scowling as I buried myself deeper into the covers, trying to pretend I was fast asleep.
The faint whisper of whiskey clung to Damon as he stripped and climbed into the bed beside me.
I held my breath, hoping to God he’d kept his underwear on. The bed gave and the sorry springs did little to hold up his weight as I rolled toward him.
Our bare skin made contact and I tried not to yelp as electricity arced through me.
The chemistry between us was dangerous.
I tried to scootch away but it was like trying to stop a rock from rolling downhill. The man was a mountain and I was a pebble.
“Piece of crap,” I mumbled under my breath, destroying the illusion that I was oblivious. I clarified with, “the bed, not you” but Damon just grunted and turned on his side as if I didn’t exist.
One minute he couldn’t keep his hands off me and the next, he was practically snoring within seconds of lying beside me.
Talk about confusing.
What are you complaining about? Geez, girl, make up your mind.
You know it’s bad when your internal voice was bitching at you for being contradictory.
“Are you awake?” I ventured, unable to go back to sleep now that he was here. “Tell me what happened. Where did you go?”
“Go to sleep,” he said, his voice muffled by the bunched pillow he had tucked under his head.
He cracked a yawn then farted as if I wasn’t lying right there.
OH MY GOD. How gross.
I fanned the blankets, grumbling the whole time. “Good God, what did you eat? Did something die inside of you?”
Damon’s sleepy chuckle pretty much put a stop to any more attempts of conversation on my part.
If I hadn’t been more afraid of what I might pick up on the floor, I would’ve grabbed a blanket and let him have the bed all to his stinky self.
I didn’t relish the idea of catching some strange disease out of bruised pride so I moved as far as I could away from him, practically hugging the edge, and tried to find sleep once again.
But it was easier for Damon to catch some shut-eye than me.
