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“Take care of ’em, Don,” Oscar said. “You know what to do.”
“You got it, boss.” He nudged Harper and then Blake with the gun. “Come on.”
Harper’s guts threatened to explode. He was going to be sick right here, right all over Don’s ostrich boots. What would happen to their bodies? The goon had taken their wallets with their IDs. They’d be John and Jim Doe.
If they were ever found…
His bowels convulsed. Was he going to shit right here? Right in front of Blake and the thug?
He didn’t give a flying fuck.
His life was over.
“Hold it right there, asshole,” a deep voice said. “Take the gun off those boys. I got ten of my men upstairs and all around this place, and if you don’t do what I say, I’ll set fire to this whole operation.”
Harper didn’t dare turn around. The sound of Don’s gun hitting the floor was operatic to his ears.
The next voice he heard was Oscar’s. “Donetto. What are you doin’ here?”
“I heard there was a party goin’ on and I wasn’t invited, you dumb fuck.”
“Where the hell did he come from?” Harper whispered to Blake.
“I texted him.”
“Are you fucking crazy?”
“Hey, Amber didn’t want the cops involved. He’s the next best thing.”
Harper’s heart still beat like a bass drum against his sternum. He was safe. He wasn’t going to die. At least not yet. Five minutes felt like a lifetime reprieve.
Oscar strode forward. A head taller than Donetto, he was an imposing presence. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“So? When has that stopped me from showing up wherever I want to?” Donetto looked around. “Now what exactly is going on here? Buchanan’s text said it would interest me. And I have to say, given the looks of things, I’m definitely interested.”
“They’re drugging girls and taking X-rated photos,” Blake said.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Oscar said.
“You shut the fuck up,” Donetto said. He looked at Blake. “Go on.”
“They get them to sign the release form while they’re drugged, and when they come out of it they don’t remember anything.”
“And I care about this because?”
“They’re making a hell of a lot of money on the Internet. If you shut them down, you have a new clientele. You can start your own site.”
“Small potatoes,” Donetto said.
“Not that small,” Blake said. “They charge twenty grand a year for access to the site. And they have over two thousand members.”
“Forty million a year? Must be some hot babes.”
“Just Rachel’s girls. The men love them and they all have their favorites. It’s a fantasy. If they’ve got the money, they’re willing to pay.”
“If the site brings in that kind of cash, why not just pay the girls to pose?”
Blake fidgeted next to Harper. “They won’t do it. Most of the dancers are nice girls. They’re just trying to make a living.”
