Chapter 11

Bennett

When my eyes opened against the soft morning light, I couldn't even remember falling asleep the night before. All I remembered was Tori's sweet pussy and the way she moaned my name. With groggy, sleep-filled eyes, I reached for her side of the bed, expecting to find her warm body.

"Baby?" I mumbled. The bed beside me was empty.

The bedroom was dark as the blackout shades hadn't been opened from the night before. I rubbed my eyes, blinked away the sleep, and turned to investigate. Tori wasn't anywhere in the room, and I didn't see her clothes on the floor either. I called out her name and nothing.

"Damn it."

I shoved out of bed and stalked to the bathroom to take a piss. Where the hell did she go? After everything we'd shared, she really just took off before I woke up? The bed was cold. She'd been gone a while.

Then again, what did I expect? Her to pick up right where we left off?

I shook my head, unable to answer my own question. I had no idea what I expected, but I never imagined I'd wake up alone.

Blindly, I reached along the bathroom wall, feeling for the light switch. I hit it, and soft light poured over the room. I grinned as I went to the sink to wash my hands and splash some water on my face to fully snap awake.

There, in red lipstick, was a message scrawled across the bathroom mirror:

See you tonight, handsome!

Underneath, it appeared that Tori had leaned in and pressed her lips to the glass. A perfect kiss-print. I knew I'd be thinking about those damn lips all day.

With a heavy sigh, I waded through my mixed-up thoughts and emotions. Seeing Tori at Parkston's had about done me in. After last night, having her in my arms, in my bed, again—there was no way I could go back to life without her. But, at the same time, I had no idea how this deal with Dalton would go down. I couldn't risk her safety.

Tori was in enough danger as it was, and I had to protect her no matter what—and get the goods passed off to Dalton. Which would hopefully be sooner rather than later. Richie hadn't been specific about a date to pick up his new merchandise.

And that could be a big fuckin' problem. They could keep me on the hook for a while if they wanted to. I needed to come up with another move to get the ball rolling. I also needed to keep Tori as far away from Richie Dalton and the Sanderson crew as possible. Another problem.

So far, I hadn't seen her enter the private room or interact with them, but I remembered his familiarity with the owners and the other bartender. There was a fair chance he'd interacted with Tori—or as he would know her, Avery—before. I needed to limit their interactions, and I sure as hell couldn't show any sign of familiarity to her. If things went sideways, Richie could use her as a bargaining chip to manipulate me if he knew the nature of our relationship or the depths of my feelings for her.

I wasn't about to let that happen. As long as I was alive—Dalton would never touch her.

A buzz jolted me from my musings, and I bolted back to my bedside table to retrieve my phone. Unfortunately, I didn't make it in time, and the call was sent to voicemail. It was a blocked number, but I knew who it'd be. A minute later, the screen lit up to notify me of a voicemail message. I dialed into the secure, encrypted box and pressed the phone to my ear.

Sure enough, it was Richie.

"Starr. Be at the club tonight. We have things to discuss."

Click.

I cringed. That didn't sound good. What kind of things? He wasn't gonna pussy out of the deal, was he? I'd beat his ass. Well, technically, I couldn't. I couldn't do anything but blow smoke up his ass, polish his shoes, and puff up his ego until he walked into that warehouse and took possession of the weapons.

Then it was game fuckin' on.

After that, the feds could follow the guns and take down Richie, the family, and the entire fucking network. My job was done. I'd move onto my next assignment. Which, more than likely, would not be in Los Angeles. But Tori—or Avery as she's called now—would be by my side. The fact that we'd met again, after a year and a whole lotta shit between us, was a miracle in and of itself. I wasn't going to get that lucky again. I wouldn't ever let her out of my sight again.

"Damn it," I growled, jumping up from my seat at the table. "Such a fuckin' mess."

I paced the hotel room, raking my hands through my overgrown hair, dying to shave it all down to my standard, close-cropped look. I hated having a beard, and I hated long hair even more. I was ready to get back to being Bennett. Bennett fucking Marshon—and I wanted to be Bennett with Tori.

The clock above the kitchenette showed it was nearing two o'clock. I needed to get in a workout and get some food in my system before I made my next move. Gym, lunch, long walk to clear my head, and then it would be time to go back to Parkston's.

The club was hopping.A live performance was taking place in the middle of the dance floor. A platform acted as a stage. A woman in head-to-toe leather was stalking between two men who were both stripped to leather briefs. In the few minutes I'd watched, I gathered she was a dominatrix, and the two men acted as her subs. I lost interest fairly quickly and glanced through the crowd to scan the bar on the other side of the club.

Before I could decide what to do, a large hand clapped me on the shoulder. "Eric, my man."

I turned my head to see Richie beside me. "Mr. Dalton."

"Come on, call me Richie. Everyone else does. Let's you and I get a drink."

I swallowed hard. Was Tori at the bar?

I wanted to see Tori more than anything, but I didn't want her to say anything in front of Richie to give away that we knew each other. I kicked myself for not reminding her to act normal and not even say anything to Reed or Paige because I didn't know if they were also involved. I should have warned her.

Damn! This whole thing could spin out of control, and I needed to rein it back in before it did.

Fuck.

Our lives depended on it. Tori's and mine.

"Sure, a bourbon would do me some good. Damn chilly out there tonight," I said, shaking my shoulders to fleck off the drops of rain from my jacket.

Richie chuckled and led the way to the bar. "You know, in Southern California, it only rains twice a year. You must be my lucky charm."

I nodded and craned around to give the stage one last glance. "You into all that Catwoman shit?"

Richie shook his head. "Nah. Not my game. I prefer to be the one with the whip if you get my meanin'."

I grimaced when he looked away.

We sat at the bar, and Richie ordered for both of us. A power play. Thinly veiled at best. Something was pissing him off. He had an edgy vibe to him, and it was making me damn nervous. Luckily, Tori wasn't anywhere in sight. I figured she either didn't show up for work or maybe it was her day off. She didn't leave a time with her lipstick message.

A short, curvy blonde was on duty and served the drinks neat and quick, with a sultry smile for both of us before she ran off to tend the other customers. I took a sip and watched Richie out of the corner of my eye as he scratched his face.

"What's on your mind?" I finally ventured to ask, sensing he wasn't going to initiate.

He turned to me, laying his hands out on the bar, ignoring the drink he'd ordered minutes before. "You impressed me last night, Starr."

"Oh, yeah?"

His tone was dangerous. Sharp. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, but you worry me, too."

I froze in place, not daring to move a muscle. My breath stilled as I fought to keep my eyes from going wide.

"Nobody knows you. I ran your name around some of my connections. You're a ghost, man."

I played it off with a light chuckle. "Just the way I like it."

He narrowed his eyes. Damn it, that was a missed step. Dalton fisted his left hand into a ball.

"I guess what doesn't sit well is where you came from. You zeroed in on me like one of those missiles in your warehouse. So, I'm a smart man. And I gotta ask myself, why? Why me? Why now?"

"Richie, I?—"

He unballed his fist and held up his hand, cutting me off without a word. "Let me tell you what I think. About a year ago, my Uncle Paul got popped by the feds out in Vegas. I won't get into it, but he walked right into a setup. They were trying to get to the whole family."

"You think I'm working with the feds?" I hissed, hoping the heat in my voice was enough to throw him off before he crossed a line we couldn't come back from.

Richie swiveled his fat ass onto his stool until he faced me. "What I'm sayin', Starr, is that the deal you are offering sounds too fucking good to be true."

Every nerve in my body was pulled tight, like guitar strings a split second away from snapping. I forced myself to lean back, suck in a breath, and shrug. "I didn"t mean to come off all hot shit. But, like I explained to you, I"m in a tight jam here and my ass is on the line. If I don"t move this inventory, I"m fucked. But, hey, if you want out, I'll go to my next buyer."

Richie considered me for a minute. "Who is it?"

"All due respect, but I'm not gonna disclose that information. I'm a lot of things, but a name-dropper ain't one of them. Look, Dalton, I like you. You're a straight shooter. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you a day to think about it. For now, let's dial things way the fuck back and just have a good time. I don't know about you, but I could use a night off from all the bullshit."

My heart was damn near ready to shoot out of my chest as seconds spanned out between us like lifetimes. Finally, Richie put me out of my misery and offered a half-cocked grin.

"I like you, Starr. I like your style, and I love that watch, but I still don"t trust you. Oh, fuck it. We'll put this on ice for tonight. Let's get to my room and see what's going down. Get some girls, booze, and have a good time."

Before I could reply, Richie leaned over the bar and snapped his fingers to get the blonde's attention. She hurried over, and he grinned at her tits, not even bothering to look her in the eye.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm in the red room. Let's get a little party going."

She nodded. "Yes, Mr. Dalton. Right away. Anything you need."

Richie flashed another arrogant smile as the girl went to make a call on the house phone behind the bar. "You like that?"

"You got style too, Richie." I was impressed. The girl snapped to attention for Dalton like he was king of the damn place. I logged it away for further investigation. I needed to figure out how Richie was connected to Reed Parkston. There was more to the story than what I'd seen on the surface. And my gut told me it was worth looking into. Either Mr. Parkston didn't know who was walking around his club—or he was in with the Sanderson family.

I wasn't sure which option would be better.

Richie heaved down from his stool and led the way to the private room. The redroom as he'd called it. As we walked, I casually glanced around, still looking for any sign of Tori. I was glad she wasn't tending bar while Richie and I had our little tet-a-tet. That might bring up a lot of questions that I really couldn't—or at least shouldn't—answer.

Richie's new bodyguard followed a step behind us, and I was acutely aware of his presence. When we reached the door of the private room, he rounded us and opened the door like a professional doorman. Such great ass-kissing service, I thought with a snort.

The red room was already crawling with activity. Several men I recognized as Richie's associates were already drinking and watching a couple of scantily clad women dancing on the coffee table in between the two large couches. A round of cheers and greetings rang out as Richie and I entered, all directed at Richie. No one else in the room knew who I was.

As I was scanning the room, the doors opened, and I stepped out of the way. Two girls filed in, each holding a tray with bottles of bourbon. I jumped out of my skin as I noticed the second girl was Tori. What the hell was she doing working the private room? Damn it. I wanted her out of this mess. As far away as possible.

Richie caught me staring at her. "You like that little redhead over there? She"s not one of my normal girls."

"Who is she?"

"She's more of a coordinator. Manages the bar and runs the VIP rooms. But, if you ask me, she's trouble."

I suppressed a smile. Oh, he had no idea.

Richie heaved his meaty shoulders. "Hell, what do I know? I"m not into redheads."

Thank God. The idea of Richie being with Tori made my blood boil. A surge of pure hostility ran through me at the thought. "You know what, Richie. Sometimes I like trouble."

Richie laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. "Well then…let's get you a piece of that ass."

He would order her just like he'd ordered the drinks at the bar.

This place was something else.

"Hey Avery, come here," Richie called over the noise, snapping his thick fingers in Tori's direction.

A panicked look flickered over Tori's face as she realized that Richie had her locked in his crosshairs, but when she spotted me standing beside him, her pretty lips parted with a pleased look of surprise. She sauntered over, still holding the large silver tray. She served us each a drink and answered, "Was there something else, Mr. Dalton?" tipping her chin at Richie.

Richie slapped me on the shoulder. "Sweetie, this is my new best friend, and it would be a personal favor to me if you could make sure he enjoys himself tonight."

Tori smiled up at me. "Of course, Mr. Dalton. I'll personally see that he's taken care of tonight."

Richie laughed and let out a wolf whistle. "Go get her, tiger."

Tori tucked the now empty tray under her arm and took my hand. As she tugged me out of the private room, I heard her murmur, "What the fuck does he think this is, Little League?"

I chuckled. "Guess so. Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

We walked in silence across the room. Tori clung to my hand, and I barely kept a thousand questions raging inside my head from spilling out. Within a few seconds, we stopped in front of a large metal door. She pulled a keycard from a lanyard clipped to the hem of her tight-fitting top. She swiped it and pushed on the door but stopped short.

"He's got these rooms wired. Video, audio…" she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "All Mr. Dalton's rooms are."

"Then let's give him a show he'll never forget."

She winked and flashed a flirty smile and then pushed open the door to reveal a room that looked more like a dungeon than a private room in a chic club hidden in the Hollywood hills. I followed her into the dungeon, and she locked the door behind us.

I did a half-circle, taking it all in. A wall of barbaric-looking tools and implements covered the better part of the opposite wall. Manacles hung down from the ceiling. Leather straps were on an X-shaped cross, resembling the one I'd seen on stage the first night I'd been at the club.

"You into this stuff?"

"Well, what do you think, cowboy?" Tori purred, running her hand along a leather-wrapped bench.

I turned to face her and found her smiling with a dark glint in her eyes. "Oh, baby, you have no idea."

Her gorgeous lips wrapped into a dark smile as she leaned forward, her tits pressing at the neckline of her dress, begging to be freed from the constricting fabric.

"Show me."