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I followed Romeo’s lead, trying to play my part as best I could without wanting to punch this careered criminal in the throat. I was going to be a buyer. And while the thought made me feel like I wanted to vomit up my dinner, it was the only way we might somehow be able to get some kind of information out of this fucking sociopath.
The club that Isiah owned had people lined up outside and down the block. It was obviously a popular place.
“Looks like he throws good parties,” I commented as we moved past the line, toward an alley at the side of the building.
“It’s not the parties people come here for,” Romeo commented quietly, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “It’s the cheap drugs and the girls.”
It was like his words went in my ears and turned to ice. The chill starting at the base of my neck and traveling all the way down my spine caused my body to shudder. I already didn’t like this fucking place, but Romeo, he was in his element. This was his playground, and I realized that the moment we stepped up to the back door of the building and the two guards who were there almost lost their jaws to the floor for a moment. They coughed and cleared their throat awkwardly, each of them looking at the other as if they would know what they should say.
Romeo just narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. “Can one of you dipshits get Isiah on the phone? I have some business to discuss with him.”
The biggest guy, who looked like he was the most in control quickly dug around in his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and hitting one single button before putting it to his ear. “Sir, I have Romeo here asking to see you.”
I tried not to shift nervously on my feet, trusting my little brother not to get us into a situation with one of the notoriously vile guys in the state. I knew what this bastard was capable of. We’d lost a brother because of him, and the dodgy fucking deals he was trying to make. I needed to keep a straight head, though, if I was going to help Romeo get the info he needed.
“He will see you now, follow me.”
I stepped forward behind Romeo, but before I could get through the doorway, a palm slammed against my chest. One of the guards was eyeing me with a sneer, obviously, now my brother had passed he’d found his balls.
Romeo spun around, his eyes flashing.
He opened his mouth to let them have it, but I quickly cut him off. “You better get your dirty fucking hand off me before I remove it from your body,” I threatened, not moving my head but just my eyes so I could see the bald-headed, ugly looking little shit.
I couldn’t let Romeo protect me. Because then I’d just look like a little bitch, not like a rich bastard looking to buy a house mouse.
Baldy suddenly looked a little nervous, like he wasn’t sure whether he should take me seriously or not. The fact I was with Romeo gave me instant street creds—I can’t say that my brother would hang out with guys who liked to just play golf and hang out at the country club.
“You got any weapons?” Baldy finally asked, withdrawing his hand from my chest.
I snorted. “You think I’m gonna walk in here unarmed with all you stupid fuckers trying to prove you’ve got bigger balls than the average bulldog?” I saw Romeo clench his jaw like he was either trying to stop himself from telling me to shut the fuck up or trying to hold back a laugh. When Baldy didn’t respond, just looked at me like he wasn’t sure if I was speaking English, I finally put him out of his misery. “Yes, I have a gun, dipshit. No, I’m not giving it to you.”
“I’ll vouch for him,” Romeo interrupted. “My friend here has a lot of enemies. I’m sure Isiah would hate to lose asalejust because he takes precautions to protect himself.”
I rolled my shoulders, all three guards continuing to observe me, scrutinizing me—the way I was dressed, the way I was holding myself, anything that might make them suspicious.
“Fine,” Baldy grated, finally stepping aside but keeping his eyes narrowed on me. “Kero will take you upstairs.”
I stepped inside the building behind Romeo. “You’re gonna fuck this up if you don’t keep your smart mouth to a minimum,” Romeo hissed under his breath as we followed some bodybuilding looking guy with tribal tattoos all up his arms and neck toward a private elevator.
The bassy music within the club vibrated through my body, the constant thud was enough to almost drive you fucking crazy. The sound was so low and so deep you could feel it right in your gut. And when there was no music over the top to disguise it, it became irritating and torturous.
“Don’t judge my character choices,” I whispered. “I figure men who buy women are up themselves jackasses with small cocks, so that’s what I’ll embody.”
“At least you don’t have to pretend with the small cock part.”
“I’m not opposed to telling Isiah I’m your gay lover,” I threatened with a growl, knowing Romeo would have to go along with whatever story I spouted.
He shook his head. “We’re gonna die, aren’t we?”
Mr. Tattoos held the elevator doors for us as we climbed inside, turning to face them as they closed, obviously not threatened by us given I could have shot him, or stabbed him, or anything by now.
When the doors finally dinged open again, I realized why. He stepped out, holding the door as at least five semi-automatic weapons were pointed directly at our heads, ready to watch them explode like fucking watermelons. My body tensed, but Romeo was the definition of ‘who gives a fuck.’
“Romeo,” a booming voice exclaimed.
Slowly the guns stepped backward.
There was a broad smile on Isiah’s face, and his arms were held open like he was welcoming home an old friend or a member of the family. With his dark hair slicked back and his perfectly pressed suit, he reminded me of one Angelo Moretti or one of Blizzard’s Old Lady Rose’s family—the Italian mafia.
