He tilted his chin at me and his dark eyes flashed. “You see Titus?”
“Yeah, and now I’m going to go and talk to Nassir.”
“You don’t think he coulda put a bullet in the guy who roughed up Honor?”
“I know he could have put a bullet in him, only I was there and the guy was alive when I left. Nassir wouldn’t kill a guy and just toss him out the back door. He’s fucked, but not that fucked. And the kid . . .” I shook my head sadly. “That was unnecessary. He was just a dumb jock who lost a bet; there is no reason he should be in an alley with his neck broken.”
“Whoever is behind it means business, and I think this is probably just the start of it.”
“I know.”
“You going to be able to handle it?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that. I’m not sure what other options I have. I let go and someone else takes over the city, runs it right back to where Novak had it. Not to mention, if I do that, I prove to everyone that I really am nothing more than a bored rich kid playing at being a criminal. My ego alone won’t stand for that.”
He chuckled.
“I saw the BMW on the video from last night. You and the icy blonde, huh?”
I lifted an eyebrow and knocked him on the edge of the shoulder with my fist.
“If it was me and the blonde, I would be in a far better mood than I am now and I wouldn’t have let Titus stick around for nearly as long as he did. She’s got some trouble brewing, and I just want to help her out. Did Dovie ever mention if she noticed anyone giving Brysen a hard time?”
He lifted an eyebrow at me and rubbed his thumb along the edge of his jaw. The star that was tattooed by his eye crinkled a little as he squinted in thought.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t listen to all the girly crap. I think she lives with her folks or something, though. Kinda hard to have a man if you can’t give him anything to look forward to coming home to.”
I agreed, but after that phone call last night, I was starting to think her reasons for living at home were as complex and as deep as my reasons for wanting to keep my finger firmly on the pulse of the Point.
“True. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out. Maybe mention to my sister that her friend has an unwanted admirer and let her know to keep her eyes open when they are together.”
The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes went a scary, flat black. “Dovie gets hurt because someone has it in for her little friend and I will destroy anyone and anything involved.”
Good. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.
“None of us live in a bubble, my friend. We all gotta look out for one another because no one else gives a shit if we make it out alive.”
He grunted in agreement and turned back to the Jaguar he was in the middle of pulling the engine out of. Bax was always a man of few words.
I went to the Mustang and cruised through the city until I got to the old dog-food factory that was Nassir’s main base of operations. It was the big club, the big draw for kids from all over the city. It was hidden, hard to find, impossible to get into if you didn’t know someone, and totally different on the outside than it was on the inside. In the harsh light of day it looked like any dilapidated building that had been foreclosed on. But at night, when the sun went down and the miscreants came out to play, it was a hive of activity and on trend with any fancy nightclub in any major metropolitan city in the world.
Some nights it was a rave. Some nights it was a disco. Some nights it was a dirty, brutal fight club. Some nights it was den of sex and debauchery. Whatever the masses wanted, whatever the people clamored for, Nassir gave it to them—and then some. He really was a brilliant businessman on top of being a stone-cold killer and a soulless monster.
I walked down a set of rickety stairs that barely felt like they would hold my weight. At the end was a giant metal door that had a keypad entry similar to the ones installed at the garage. I punched in the code and waited for the approval from whoever was monitoring the security on the inside to open the door all the way. The hallways were empty and smelled like sweat and sex. Like every bad thing that had ever been done inside these walls had sunk into the concrete and just permeated the entire place. I went through another secure door, made my way across the vacant floor of the factory, which just looked industrial and run-down in the daytime, went behind the bar, and climbed a wrought-iron set of stairs that led to the VIP section, which was really just the old catwalks of the factory, and to the back office where I knew Nassir spent most of the day.
His office was as different from the run-down, desolate vibe of the rest of the warehouse as it could be. The entire place was enclosed in smoky, one-way glass that I knew was bulletproof and soundproof. He had monitors that covered the entire wall behind his desk that almost gave the security at the garage a run for its money. His desk was a black lacquer behemoth that sat on a polished marble floor. Nassir was a flashy guy, but he was also a lethal predator. No one that walked into this office would ever be fooled into thinking they were just there for a simple business meeting.
I plopped down in one of the wingbacks across from him and just stared at him while he talked on his cell phone. His dark eyebrows were pitched low on his forehead and his hair was standing up in the front like he had been shoving his hands through it, instead of lying flat in its usual ruthless style. I crossed my ankle on my knee and tapped out a random beat with my fingers while he glowered at me. Nassir didn’t play well with others, and now that there was an unknown quantity in the mix, our uneasy truce might prove to be too much for him to handle.
He barked out something in a language I didn’t understand and threw the phone on the desk in front of him with way more force than the action required. He leaned back in his chair and glared at me with glowing eyes.
“If you ask me if I shot that guy, I very well may punch you in the face.”
That made me grin.
“You have any idea who might be behind it?”
“Someone clumsy and obvious. It was foolish and gratuitous.”
“The kid was overkill.”
“The kid was to make a very clear point.”
I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward with my forearms resting on my legs.
“What do you want to do about it?”
He grumbled something I didn’t quite make out and raked his fingers through his dark hair.
“I’m having one of my guys go through the security footage outside both of the clubs to see if we can see anything. We need to know who to look for before we can decide what we want to do about it.”
“All right.”
I didn’t think we were going to be in agreement about it, but so far, so good. Granted, I didn’t trust Nassir, but until he gave me a reason to doubt his judgment, I was okay with handling this one step at a time. It was just logical.
“Now let’s talk about the fights this Friday night.”
His candy-colored gaze went sharp, and the edges of his mouth dug in at the sides.
“What’s there to talk about? I’ve been doing fight nights as long as you’ve been running the streets. This isn’t anything new.”
“Right, but now I’m running the odds and I want to know what magic you’re going to pull so that you have a guaranteed winner. If you’re gonna play dirty, I want the odds to reflect it.”
“That isn’t how you make money, Race.”
“No, but it is how you make the bet clean.”
“Who cares about a clean bet?”
I hooked a thumb at my chest. “I do.”
His frown dug in deeper, and we had a tense moment where we just stared at each other without speaking.
“That is naive and foolish. It isn’t what this partnership is about.”
“Look, I watched you set my best friend up against guys who were doped up, guys with knives stashed on them, guys who were fighting for their lives because you threatened to kill them or their loved ones if they lost, and I
never did a goddamn thing about it. You want to weigh the fight in a certain fighter’s favor, then that’s on you, and we know the crowd loves that shit. But when it comes to the money, it’s going to be a clean bet based on real odds. The payouts will be larger, but so will the stakes. Trust me on this.”
He didn’t want to concede. I could see it all over his face and in his posture, but for whatever reason, he had decided that it was easier to work with me than constantly against me, so he dipped his head in a single nod.
“Kenmore is going in with a healing ACL tear. He thinks he’s okay to fight, but the other side knows about the injury and will do their best to take full advantage of it. You can’t rule a guy like Kenmore out, though; he fights because he loves it, not for the money.”
That meant the odds had to be skewed in the other guy’s favor, but if Kenmore managed to pull out a win, the payout would be enormous for those who were brave enough to bet on the underdog.
“Got it. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
I pushed up out of the chair and looked back at him when he called my name as I reached the door.
“I know you’re in this with me, Race, but if blood gets spilled, are you honestly ready for that?”
Like I said before, I didn’t really know much about Nassir’s past, just that he had come on the scene about the same time that Bax and I got tangled up with Novak. For the most part he kept the Point alive with entertainment, oiled hands that needed oiling, and made things happen when no one else seemed able to. I had never actually seen him use his hands on anybody—never seen him lift a finger to hurt another person—but there was something about him, some innate quality that swirled under the surface of those unusual eyes that hinted at an untapped wealth of violence and mayhem just waiting to be unleashed.
“I’m more of a take-it-as-it-comes kind of guy, Nassir. I’ll do what I have to do in order to make things right and keep things running in a way I think is appropriate. I can’t tell you what I am or am not ready for because this place, the way it twists and turns on itself, is always a surprise. You just need to believe me when I say I’ll do what I think has to be done.”
“You think that’s going to be enough?”
“It’ll have to be.”
I shut the office door behind me and let out the breath I hadn’t really been aware I was holding.
I wasn’t immune to violence, to the fight it took to make it in the Point. I just had lofty hopes that when you put a man who prided his brain over his brawn in the driver’s seat, some of that day in and day out battle would fade away. I hadn’t counted on the very nature of the city, the very heartbeat of the Point, calling for everyone’s blood despite my best efforts to calm the beast.
Chapter 7
Brysen
I WAS STARING AT my test in absolute disbelief. It was just a C, but a C was head and shoulders above any other grade I had gotten from the evil TA. Sure the quiz had been multiple choice and not essay, so he couldn’t count points off arbitrarily, but still. I knew Race was smart, but I had no idea how smart. The way he had laid out my notes, the little additions he had made where it was obvious I was struggling, had made all the difference. I wanted to kiss him. Well, I wanted to kiss him anyways, but now I felt like I had a justifiable reason behind the urge.
I jolted a little when Drew draped an arm across my shoulders and let out a whistle when he saw the Scantron I was holding on to like it would suddenly fly away.
“How did you pull that off?”
Irritated, I shook him off and put the quiz away in my bag. “I studied.”
“I guess your theory about the TA having it in for you was wrong after all.”
I pushed some of my hair out of my face and huffed out a breath. “Well, it’s not like he can flunk me when we all took the same quiz and I could check my answers against yours or whatever. Eventually he’s going to do something obviously malicious and I’ll be able to turn him in to the dean of academics.” He just hadn’t gone that far yet.
Drew bumped into me in a playful gesture and I let out a hiss between my teeth as he inadvertently brushed against my still-healing arm. I was a mess of scabs and ugly bruises and I couldn’t shake the feeling that everywhere I went, every time I left my house, someone was watching me. I hadn’t received any more texts, there were no more near misses with a runaway car, but my skin was tight and I felt eyes all over me. I hated it, and it was making me jumpy and suspicious of everything and everyone.
“What’s wrong?”
Drew’s voice was sharp and he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to a stop. Ever since he had given me the third degree about Race, he had been more intrusive, more forceful in the way he was with me. I didn’t care for it at all. I pulled my hand back and narrowed my eyes at him.
“I fell leaving work the other night. I got a little banged up and that side took the brunt of it.”
He lifted his eyebrows at me and made a face.
“You fell?” The accusation and disbelief in his tone were clear.
I didn’t feel like I needed to explain myself to him, and I was about to tell him just that when Adria suddenly bounded over and grabbed me by both of my shoulders. She was bouncing up and down on her toes and babbling so fast I could barely understand her. I reached out both hands and clasped her on her shoulders to keep her still.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Her eyes were all bright and shiny with excitement. “I got invited to fight night!”
A chill slid down my spine. I had been to fight night. It was gory and brutal. It was uncivilized and inhumane. It was definitely not something to get bouncy and excited about.
“Don’t go.” My voice was barely a whisper, but she heard it and stopped hopping around to frown at me.
“Why? You know how hard it is to get invited to any of that underground stuff in the Point? You have to know someone who knows someone who knows someone. I’ve never been. It sounds dangerous and exciting.”
To me it sounded like a bored rich girl looking for a thrill. God, I didn’t ever want to be like that.
“It’s awful. They fight in a circle with people cheering for blood. The fights aren’t fair, and real, live people end up getting hurt. Seriously, Adria, it’s awful. There are a million better ways to spend a Friday night.”
She flipped her hair over her shoulder and took a step away from me. I didn’t notice Drew watching the exchange with curious eyes, but I could feel him shift next to me.
“I think you’re just jealous.”
I blinked because I didn’t even have a clue what to say to that. “What?”
“You started working at that crappy restaurant and met Dovie. All of a sudden you have an in with people in the Point, you get in places like fight night and meet guys like Race Hartman. I don’t think you want anyone else intruding, like it’s your own private club or something.”
I was so flabbergasted, all I could do was roll my eyes at her.
“That’s nonsense and you know it. I go to work and I go home. I don’t run around the Point after dark leading some double life.”
“I don’t know, Brysen. You’ve been acting weirder and weirder lately.”
Of course Drew picked that moment to chime in, “You have been more tense and high-strung over the last few months.”
Of course I had. My home life was in a shambles, I was failing a class, I more than likely had a homicidal stalker following me around, I was trying to protect my sister, and I was in major lust with a guy who was absolutely the worst person in the world for me to be obsessing over. I didn’t need either of them manufacturing reasons for my behavior however I happened to be acting.
I took a step away from both of them and pulled the layer of frost I had perfected over the years around my shoulders like a superhero cape.
“Fight night is terrible, but go if you really feel like it’s something you have to witness. I don’t have to justify my behavior to either of you, and frankly it pisses me off that
you think you can speculate about what my life is like. You don’t know; no one does.”
I turned on my heel and flounced away with both of them calling after me. I had a good flounce. I chalked it up to the blond hair and long-legged gait, plus all the recent practice I got at home pretending like things that really bothered me were ignorable. I was getting pretty good at brushing off things that really pricked at me. Pretty soon I was going to be numb to all emotion and that equally thrilled me and terrified me. While I would love to shut down the sting of my mom’s addiction and instability, would embrace with open arms my heart not hurting every time Karsen looked at me with tears in her eyes, I knew instinctively that missing out on the burn, the tingling anticipation I felt whenever I was around Race, would suck. He made me feel alive, made me feel like I wasn’t tied down to the grind of my reality by familial chains and my own weighty sense of responsibility. That would be hard to freeze out, even if I knew it was for the best. We weren’t good for each other, had different troubles and problems hounding us, and it made no sense to try and add each other into that mix.
I went to the rest of my classes. Fell in love with my new computer and went to work at the restaurant. Friday nights were always pretty steady, so I was running at a good clip all the way until close. I made some pretty decent tips and was counting out the cash while waiting on Ramon to walk me to my car, when my phone started ringing. Karsen was at another sleepover, so I doubted it was her, and when I saw Adria’s name on the display, I promptly ignored it. Ramon waved me to the front door and I scowled as my phone went off once more. Adria again.
I hooked an arm through Ramon’s and waited while he scanned the parking lot. I still felt like someone was watching me, and the little hairs on my arms stood straight up. I peered into the darkened lot and looked up at Ramon as my phone went off a third time. I sighed and swiped a finger across the screen.