Page 74 of Ballistic

“Collecting debts mostly. But he’s been involved in a couple productions for him, too.”

“Do we know where he hangs out?”

“All I know is that he’s a gambler, and he likes his gin. Drinks Jenever, from what I understand.”

“He’s a gambler?”

“From what I hear.”

A face took shape inside my head, one I’d seen frequently at Frank’s bar on Friday night’s, when he’d hold poker tournaments in the back. Ugly, bald bastard, with half his face all scarred up. I hadn’t talked to him much, at all, but if memory served me, his name was Kenny, and he often had a glass of gin in front of him. “Where’d you hear about him?”

“One of Tesarik’s acquaintances. Because I was permitted to attend parties with him, I also got to mingle with guests.” Her hand glided to my back as she spoke, her fingertips dancing over my skin in little mind-jacking circles that made it fucking impossible to stay focused on her words. “There was one who frequented the parties, a lawyer, named Karl Kutscher. In exchange for giving Karl some information on Tesarik, Karl provided me with some general information on Kenny. He’d apparently defended him in a recent lawsuit ”

Well, wasn’t that some shit? Karl was the bastard father of my buddy Ty’s girl—the one who’d provided the IP address that’d helped me track down Nicoleta in the first place. Funny how it all came together like that.

“Weren’t you a cunning little shit?”

She smiled and kissed my chest over one of my nipples, shooting a healthy dose of blood straight to my dick. “Information is power. The more you gain, the more power you acquire.”

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore what she was doing to me. How at ease she suddenly seemed, as if our little roofscapade had knocked out some of her inhibitions. “So, I might know how to find this Kenny.”

“The BDSM club?”

“No. Better than that. I’ll give my buddy, Frank, a heads up. If he shows up for the weekly poker game, he’ll alert us.”

“You know Kenny, then?”

Shaking my head, I stole a moment to let a shiver ripple down my spine while she kept on with her maddening tickles. “Seen him around, is all.”

“This Frank … can you trust him to call you?” She flicked her tongue over the spot that’d remote controlled my cock, and every muscle in my body stiffened to keep from knocking her onto her back.

“If he had any idea what that pedophile prick was up to? Hell, yes. Frank has three daughters in high school. The trick will be trying to convince the hothead not to kill the bastard himself.”

“And what’s the plan, if he does show up?” She guided my hand to her breast, enticing me to play along, and let out a sexy little sigh the second my fingertips hit her nipple.

“We’ll follow him, and strike when he least expects it.” I held on to the peak and tugged just enough to have her arching against me.

“Sneak attack. Like a shark,” she breathed, eyes hooded with lust.

“Or a wolf.” I pretended to bite down on her neck, and I growled against her skin, as she squealed and wriggled against me.

“Dax?” she said, as I released her throat and kissed the shell of her ear. “Do you think you might want to do what you did on the roof earlier?” The way she bit her lip, eyes shying away from mine, was so fucking cute, I wanted to crush her in my arms.

“Another round?”

“Yeah. But here in bed.”

I rolled over top of her, the bulk of my weight braced on outstretched arms, and lowered to kiss her lips. “Baby, I thought you’d never ask.” With another kiss to her throat, I inched my way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way, until I reached the top of her thighs and hid beneath the sheets.

28

Nicoleta

Dax parked his car along the curb in front of the bar, on which a vintage arrow sign flashed Bottoms Lounge, reminding me of something out of the sixties.

His buddy had told him to keep an eye out for a beat-up gray Astro van, which just happened to sit in the side parking lot of the bar, directly across from us.

“How do you know him? The bar owner?” I bit into the coney dog Dax had picked up at a small stand along the way.