***
The shop was busier than the last time I’d been there. It was late afternoon, which meant a lot more walk-ins, and every chair seemed full. The steady buzz of tattoo guns filled the space, layered with music and conversation. It should have been comforting.
Instead, my shoulders stayed tight. Despite the large window at the front of the shop, Drew said it should be okay. Dagger hadn’t reported anything strange, and no one had been spotted loitering. All the club’s other businesses were okay too, so it looked like Diego’s men hadn’t realized I was under Steel Demons’ protection.
I hovered near the front desk, not wanting to intrude on Drew’s client. One of the girls on reception pulled me into conversation. She had dark hair with cherry red streaks and heavy eye makeup. Her name tag read ‘Rina’.
We were mid-sentence when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and went pale. “Oh my god!” she breathed. “Someone flattened my tires.”
“What?” That seemed like an act out of the ordinary, right?
She already had her keys in hand, middle finger pushed through the keyring. “I’ll be right back. Watch the desk while I’m gone, yeah?”
“Of course,” I answered automatically. “No problem.”
Rina rushed out and I stepped behind the counter with my heart beating a little harder than necessary. I checked in a couple of newly arrived clients, answered a question about hourly prices and after a few more phone calls, I felt my body start to relax. If not my mind. I was on edge like a motherfucker and when the bell over the door chimed—again—I thought I might lose my shit.
I looked up and sucked in a sharp breath, sure I was seeing some kind of hallucination because there was nofuckingway in hell he was here already.
“Detective Halloran,” I said, shocked by the steadiness in my voice.
He flashed a smile that was meant to be smooth but looked smarmy and practiced. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Macy.”
Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet stayed planted on the black and red tiles. I briefly glanced towards the room where Drew was working. His door was slightly open, but he was too focused on his client to see what was happening.
Halloran took a step closer, smiling when I stepped back.
“Let’s make this easy,” he said pleasantly. “Come with me. Diego’s fixated on you, and he won’t give that up. Not for anything.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, heart hammering so loud I barely heard my next words. “Well, neither will I. The answer is no, fuck no, actually.”
He sighed hard, rubbing his belly like I was nothing more than an insignificant inconvenience. “That’s not good enough,” he threatened. “Just come with me and none of your new friends will get hurt.”
New friends.
That told me everything. This asshole was willing to burn it all down to get his payday. I nodded as if I was actually considering his offer. “You sure you want to be flashing your badge while working for a cartel, Detective?” My voice shook but it was louder than polite and drew some stares. “Steel City is small and people notice things, like a cop sniffing around without a purpose.”
His jaw clenched tight. “Diego is a businessman,” he insisted, more to soothe his own conscience, I realized.
“Sure, he has some legit businesses but still he wants you to take me against my will and keep me as his slave, but what, in a businesslike way?” I shook my head. “Is that the new version of upholding the law?” Terror clawed at my spine, urging me to break down and cry or cut and run, but I refused to give this asshole the satisfaction.
“Vandal!” I finally yelled, knowing the use of his MC name would draw his attention quicker.
Almost instantly Drew was at my side, his body vibrating with anger. Dagger appeared too, massive and silent and angry as he positioned himself beside Drew, a barrier between me and danger.
“We got a problem here?” Dagger asked the question with the kind of lethal cool reserved for movie gangsters.
Halloran’s eyes flicked between them, surprise flashing for just a heartbeat before his smugness returned. “No problem, gentlemen,” he said, holding his hands up in a friendly gesture. “You have something that belongs to my employer.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I snapped.
Halloran smiled thinly. “We’ll see about that.”
Drew didn’t smile back. “Everybody out,” he shouted in a low, controlled voice.
The shop froze for half a second. Then chaos began and customers headed for the door, murmuring nervously. Halloran turned too, understanding that his status was irrelevant in this place, and like a coward he decided it was time to go. He was desperately pushing the handle, but the door didn’t open.
It was locked.
