Page 3 of Straight Shooter

“I’m happy to accept, Mr. Moretti. What’s the problem you’d like taken care of?” If it was another murdered stripper, he’d be in over his head. A dead body would force him to call the feds immediately.

Moretti shoved his hands in his pockets. “Someone got on board to steal from me. Either information, cash . . . hell, it could be anything.” He swung his gaze to Rhett, and his stony gray eyes were as chilling as the storm building on the horizon. “I need you to find out why.”

“You want me to interrogate?” Shit. He had plenty of experience in that area, but if someone else was here to get dirt on Moretti, it could blow his case.

“Yeah. Beanie’s working on it now, but I’m not keen on his . . . methods. I don’t need another reason for the press to look at me. Got it?”

Rhett grunted. “Yes, sir.” Beanie, Moretti’s longtime bodyguard, made Rhett’s skin crawl. He didn’t know a lot about the man, but Rhett’s debriefing before arriving on the case had included a background on Beanie Mathews. Several charges of rape, aggravated assault, and possession of illegal drugs were reasons enough for Rhett to want to throat-punch him every time he had to look at his stupid face.

“Where’s Beanie holding him?”

Moretti jangled something in his pocket. “It’s a her. Top deck.”

Rhett’s heart rate slowed and his breath stalled in his throat. “Her?” He couldn’t, wouldn’t, hurt a fucking woman. Jesus Christ, what had he gotten into?

“Yeah, a woman. Find out who hired her.”

Chapter

Two

Blood trickled through Peyton’s lashes, marring her vision. She blinked but didn’t dare move to wipe it away. The cut from the guard’s gold ring throbbed above her eyebrow. She stretched her toes toward the ground but couldn’t reach it. Her wrists ached in the bounds that suspended her from the yacht’s ceiling.

Six guards sat on the furniture that only an hour before had held high-paid strippers and Moretti and his cronies. Many of the guards leered at her. The torn neckline of her dress left one nipple exposed, and its hem was hiked up on her thighs, leaving most of her legs naked.

The guard who’d caught her had backhanded her in the face downstairs, after the captain had announced the party was over. Moretti had stormed down, irate his party had been cut short, and told her she would talk.

She hadn’t yet, and that was the only reason she was still alive.

“I tell you, boys,” Beanie said, pacing the length of the couch. “You can’t buy this kind of fucking loyalty. I mean, the bitch isn’t worried I might cut off her finger for whoever hired her.”

“Maybe she’ll care if she loses a hand,” another guard said.

“Or a nipple,” yet another piped up.

Ripples of terror washed over her skin, and she closed her eyes. She couldn’t let them break her. Jesus, this was a senator for god’s sake. Yeah, his family was dealing with a scandal, and until now she hadn’t cared about the details, but the allegations sure as hell had to be true if Moretti was going to let his men rape and dismember her. They didn’t even know what she’d been trying to steal. Whatever Moretti was hiding had to be big.

Beanie stopped at her feet and his knees bumped into hers. The heavy scent of onions radiated off his hot breath. Her stomach spiraled in revulsion, but she met the man’s eyes. Dark pools of vacancy stared back. Beanie’s pupils dilated and retracted. The sun had long since fallen below the horizon, and clouds covered the moon. A drop of rain splattered on her cheek, then another, and another.

“You cold, honey?” He tilted his head, making the light from the ceiling bounce off his bald head.

She clenched her jaw. She hadn’t said a word to him since he dragged her upstairs. If she died tonight, she’d go down with dignity. Something this piece of shit didn’t possess.

“How about you tell me what you came here for—or better yet, who you’re protecting? Then we can get you a cup of tea and cover you up.”

She didn’t shift her gaze.

His jaw rocked back and forth. “Smart. You know we’re not here to play nice. Here’s the deal—you tell me and I kill you quickly. Maybe I’ll be real nice and leave you in the middle of the ocean. There’s always the chance someone could find you. Or, we can do things the hard way.”

For the first time, indecision warred within her. Ratting out one of her friends wasn’t the way to go down. Max was only a small player. She didn’t know who was behind wanting Jenny Carter’s location. But one thing was for sure: she was dying tonight, and no matter what information she gave him, Beanie wouldn’t offer her a shred of mercy.

A guard at the end of the couch stood. Lankier than the others, he had a full, thick beard that mingled with the tattoos on his neck. “I think she likes things . . . hard.”

Her throat tightened, and a bolt of warning zapped her core.

Beanie’s hand went to the hem of her dress. She squirmed and jerked out of his reach, but the rope didn’t allow her to get far. He laughed as he seized her waist in both of his hands. “We’ll just fuck the information out of you.”

He stepped behind her. One guard had the decency to look uneasy and kept his stare on the deck. Another got to his feet. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he said, and stormed out of the room.