5. Trap

5

TRAP

E veryone clears out of church, gossiping like a bunch of fucking schoolgirls. Not that I can blame them, given what our ears and our brains just had to process.

The Bratva's having a damn auction. The fucking audacity. After what went down with Harlow, I would've thought they'd lie low for longer. But I guess the Russians just don't work that way.

I hang back and wait for the room to clear out. "Prez, can I get a word with you?" I ask, knowing that this long day's about to get that much longer.

I feel kind of proud that I've been chosen for this job. It's pretty fucking important. My particular skills are useful here, and I'm even choosing the guys doing this with me.

But that's also where my questions lie.

"You wanna chat here or my office?"

I shake my head. "This won't take long. I just have a couple of questions."

Grizzly waits as the last officer leaves the room, taking Tag with him. Like all of our other traumatized informants, he'll probably be going into permanent hiding somewhere cushy and somewhere far away. Assuming he makes it there.

"What do you need, Trap? Don't tell me this is too much for ya. You're always gunning for this kind of responsibility."

I stop him there. "No, I'm fucking proud of myself for earning this, and I won't let you down. But I have to know some things first, Prez. If we're not even sure about the location time, anything could be a trap. I mean, the way they were after me and Tag, and with a prospect presumed dead…it doesn't look very fucking good to me."

Grizzly looks at me and gives a smirk. "You know, Trap, that wasn't a question."

I scoff and shuffle to the side.

"But I'll answer anyway. I believe we have the right date and time. What I don't think we have is the right location. But that doesn't matter—because this Mafia guy, Lorenzo Romano, he's going to be at the event. He'll give us the details right beforehand, but we'll have to be ready to go. It's two nights from now."

I let out a long hiss of air. Two nights . That's awfully soon for me to come up with something. So, I go with my instincts.

"Okay, I think I know my men, but I need to run it by you." He gestures for me to go on. "First of all, you have to be there. I know you don't think it's a good idea, and I don't like putting you in danger like that. But if you made a deal with this Romano character and it's going to be believable what we're going to do, then the Prez is going to be expected to be present. They won't believe anything less."

Grizzly nods. "I figured as much, after I said what I did in the meeting. What are you thinking?"

"We go under the guise of making amends. Act as if we've come around to the idea that this could be a lucrative business, and we're low-key scared of how deep they run. Maybe not even that—maybe we want a new club whore or something, and we realize the Bratva is going to be around so we have to put up with them. So we put our hands up in surrender, and we buy a club whore. Surely we can afford to bid on one."

A look of anger and frustration passes over his features, the kind that'll get you put six feet under if you cross him, but then it disappears. "Not bad, Trap. I may not like it, but we could probably save her life. Not to mention learn more about how they operate. Go on. Who else?"

"I'm thinking Dart. He's done so well lately, proven himself. I feel like you're close to making him a member anyway. And he has no personal stake in this."

Grizzly's silent for a moment, and I wonder if it was a really bad idea to suggest that a prospect be a part of this. But then he starts to nod, bobbing his head forward and backward. "Yeah, he has been great for us. Go tell him. And get Dart prepped—he deserves to know what the hell he's getting into. The two of you need to be ready. For anything."

He looks me dead in the eye when he says this, and while I haven't been scared much in my two decades with the MC, I'm definitely feeling fear tonight.

I head directly out of church to find Dart. I'm not going to fuck around with this. Not to mention, I have a date with my mattress and I plan to get to it sooner rather than later.

"Trap, stop!" I close my eyes and grit my teeth before turning around with a smile on my face to meet the owner of the voice. Harlow is coming at me from upstairs.

Generally, we don't tell anybody else what happens in church—it's on a need-to-know basis. However, Harlow is kind of that gray-area exception. She's Grizzly's daughter. And she's also been involved with all this Bratva shit. She's the reason we're all so fucking pissed.

But she has other things she needs to worry about. I don't want to tell her this. I don't want her involved. Hell, I don't want her within one hundred miles of this, and I know that Grizzly and her guys probably feel the fucking same.

Her life is here, though. She's one of us.

"Hey, baby girl. What are you up to?"

She crosses her arms. "Don't give me that, Trap. I know you were called to that meeting, and there was an informant. People were whispering about an incident where you guys were followed. All of this is so secretive. I want to know what's going on. Please, tell me."

She's looking up at me with doe eyes, and it's almost like a puppy begging for a bone. But it's worse, because I've known her since she was a baby. How can I keep this from her?

"I think it's something you should ask your dad about. I don't know if he wants you to know or not, but also, I'm kind of on a mission here for him anyway."

There, I didn't lie to her, but I didn't say too much.

Unfortunately, I can feel her following me as I turn away. Her tiny feet make soft sounds as she pads behind me.

"I know something is up. I'm going to get to the bottom of it one way or another."

I go to the bar, hoping somebody there can tell me where the hell Dart is.

Bane is there, and part of me hopes his presence will distract Harlow, especially as he pulls her in and makes her blush with the deepest kiss I've seen in quite a while. People here are usually good about keeping that shit upstairs or in their bedrooms, but the three men who managed to win over Harlow without getting kicked out of the club—they tend to flaunt it.

I get it, they're madly in love with her, and she's clearly attached.

"What are you doing out here, baby?" Bane asks.

With her good and distracted by Bane, I ask the bartender about Dart. He knows nothing. Dammit . I'm about to keep looking when Harlow says, "I've been trying to get Trap to tell me what's going on, but he's being so secretive." She glares at me.

I shake my head at Bane, but he has no filter when it comes to her. He spills everything.

"So, you're going after the Bratva?" she asks, looking back and forth between the two of us.

I rub my forehead, getting a migraine over all this bullshit.

"Of course we are, baby. All for you. They're going to pay." Bane kisses her on the cheek and on the neck, squeezing her hard around the middle when he says it.

I roll my eyes. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but I really need to find Dart."

"Last I saw him, he was outside." Bane points toward the door leading out to the lot where all the bikes are kept. He must be having a smoke or something.

"Thanks," I tell him, turning around to walk outside.

Harlow's voice stops me. "How dangerous is this going to be, Trap? I want them to pay, but I don't want anyone to get hurt over this. Nobody else needs to get hurt."

I turn around. "I'll do everything in my power to make sure nobody gets hurt, darlin'. Now, you worry about those beautiful children of yours, okay? You let me take care this."

And then I walk away, hoping she can let go and doesn't try to stick her nose into this any further.

I do find Dart outside, throwing a cigarette to the ground and stomping on it. His newly shaved head glistens in the sunset.

"It's almost like a mirror," I tell him, teasing him as I come up and rub the top of his head.

He smacks me away, putting his fists up at me. I know it's a joke. He's mostly bark, no bite until it matters.

"Don't tell me you fucking came out here just to do that. I know you were just in that meeting. You sworn to secrecy?" Dart asks as he leans against his bike.

I shake my head. "Not this time. Actually, I came to get your help. But it's going to be dangerous. You in?"

He grins from ear to ear, his bright blue eyes flashing. "You know the hell I am. Tell me everything."

We have to park our bikes half a mile away from the location we were given. So, as much as I hate it, I leave my Harley sitting in a giant parking garage downtown and then trek with Grizzly and Dart to what seems to be a popular nightclub.

Strangely enough, as we approach, everything looks normal. It's mostly people under the age of forty, standing in line to get into the club. Most are dressed in jeans or maybe something a little bit more formal. None of them look like the seedy type. However, as Grizzly reads the directions again, we realize we have to go in the back door.

It's supposed to be a VIP lounge or something. But I'm pretty sure that's just a front. How often do the Bratva host auctions like this? And do they always do it here? Probably, now that they own the damn place.

As we head around to the back of the club, I turn to Grizzly. "Are we sure this is the location Romano gave us? It's kind of conspicuous."

Dart scoffs. "If you ask me, this seems like the perfect place. No one would think you would do this kind of thing in the open."

Grizzly gives us both a look. "Would you two clowns shut your fucking mouths?" We're trying to be covert here ourselves. If every asshole within five miles hears what we're talking about, our cover is more than blown. Don't make me regret letting both of you come to this."

I nod, knowing Grizzly is tense. The Prez is under a lot of pressure here, trying to keep his cool even though these are the people responsible for hurting his daughter. I would be losing my shit.

We approach the door leading to the VIP lounge, and a man in a suit with a serious face and mustache. "Name and password," he says as we approach. In one hand he holds a tablet, and I'm assuming the admission list is on it. That list will probably either disappear or be used later for some kind of blackmail.

"Password's ginger ale," Grizzly says real smooth. "My name is Grizzly. Prez of Venom Vultures MC. That's probably how you have us down." We wait as the man scrolls through his list.

He finally nods. "Have a nice evening, gentlemen."

I hold back a sneer. Not a single man here tonight is going to be a gentleman. The fact that they act like this is some fancy charity ball, despite knowing the truth, is ridiculous. It makes me sick.

We walk into the main space and down the spiral staircase. It resembles a speakeasy—red curtains, and large seating areas with tables covered in linen. A stage begins on the northeast side of the room, crosses to the center, and juts out through half of the room. It looks like a runway, and I'm filled with rage when I realize it is a runway—to show off the young women and sell them like sex slaves.

There are people chatting in various dark corners, and some just finding seats and smoking cigars or sipping expensive wines. We stand out like a sore thumb. Most of the men are here alone, and they certainly don't look like us with our tattoos, beards, and torn-up jeans.

We're not their type, usually. But we have to somehow convince the Bratva that we are.

"Grizzly, you made it!" The voice comes out of nowhere, and I turn my head around until I find the source. Walking toward us, wearing a very pretentious cream-colored suit, is a man a head shorter than Grizzly with slicked back hair and a five o'clock shadow. Honestly, if I met him on the street somewhere I'd think he was a car salesman.

"Romano, good to see you." There's so much in that one statement from Grizzly, I can feel the tension between them.

Lorenzo Romano. This is the guy from the Italian Mafia, the one who informed Grizzly of the location of this event, and got us the invite.

"You have been the talk of the evening thus far. It's very rare that events like this get MCs to attend. A lot of them like to traffic their own women." He flashes that perfectly white and straight grin, probably one that cost him a hell of a lot of money. I don't exactly want to know how he's made such money either.

I give him a side glance, letting out a low growl when he reaches us and slaps me and Grizzly on our backs. I'm not in the mood to schmooze when I don't have to. This guy already knows we're fakes.

"Is that so?" Dart asks, and I hold my breath. Of all the times to pop his mouth off.

"Well, I have certainly dealt with the type over the years. But I don't think any have been so…accommodating to work with before. The Bratva are thrilled. I can't tell if it's because they are a little scared of you, or if they just didn't want to waste the resources that would be necessary to eliminate your kind."

The thinly veiled threat causes Grizzly to shove Romano away.

"You need to watch yourself," Grizzly warns in a low tone.

"Just trying to be a friend. And call me Lorenzo. Enzo, even. Now, I've been putting in a good word like you asked. Let's get you seated, and then I'd love to take you to talk to one of my associates. He's been dying to find out your real motivations for being here."

I grit my teeth. "What's the point of this if no one is going to believe the lie that we're trying to put on?" I look back and forth between Grizzly and Lorenzo.

Lorenzo shakes his head, that uncanny grin still spread across his face like a Cheshire cat. "You see, criminal masterminds will never trust each other. Alliances, those can be made, but they have to believe it to a point. And it takes a lot to get there when you've had some trouble in the past." He rubs his hands together like a cartoon villain. Is this guy for real?

Without any further banter, we follow Lorenzo to a table near the center of the room. When the girls walk down the runway, we'll see them up close and personal. It's going to take everything I have not to jump up there and pull each one off to take them to safety.

"So, who's this man that wants to speak to us?" Grizzly asks, nodding at Lorenzo.

"Victor. I doubt that's his real name, but it's the only one he'll give me. I know he's high-ranking among the Bratva. Though, I don't think you've met him before. Events like this…let's just say they're his specialty. Shall I bring him to your table?"

Grizzly looks at each of us for confirmation. That's the thing about Grizzly—he's a fair Prez, and he knows when it's time to get the opinions of others. To consider that we're a team and not just peons.

I nodded my agreement with the idea. It makes it seem like we still hold some power. It's a message.

Luckily, Dart agrees too.

"Excellent." Lorenzo does that hand slapping thing again. "I'll be back with him in a moment. In the meantime, you should order some libations. They have some of the best at these things, some things you'll never find anywhere else." He winks at us before walking away.

Dart turns to me and looks at Grizzly as well. As close to under his breath as he can get where we can still hear, he says, "Is it just me, or does that man seem completely insane?"

Grizzly's staring in Lorenzo's direction as he speaks to some man we can't see over the crowd. "Yeah. I really hope I don't regret this. I'll have caused us so much hell if I made the wrong choice." He shakes his head and turns away, surveying the room instead of having to discuss his possible failure any further.

He's always thinking about things like that. Always in the negative. I think it stems from the death of his wife. He somehow feels responsible, like he could've done something about it.

Life just doesn't work that way. So, he remains grumpy to say the least, and not the man he used to be. But I still like him this way. He's just an asshole sometimes, and a little distant.

Eventually, Lorenzo comes back, bringing someone with him who's much younger than I would have expected for some high-ranking member of the Bratva.

He's right—we have not met this man before. But he shouldn't expect to get any introductions either. Cocky bastard.

"So, Enzo here tells me that you're interested in the girls tonight. That maybe you start to see our side." His accent is about as Russian as they can get.

"Well, I see you're going to be around our territory a bit. It's inevitable that we're going to cross paths again, and I'm really not interested in a war. My thought is that we both have better things to do with our time. In that spirit, and having heard about this event, I thought it was a good way to call a truce while at the same time helping the club out. We can always use new club whores, if you know what I mean." Grizzly smiles at the man.

A smile slowly comes across his face as well. Then, he reaches out his hand for us to shake. "I think that is a very smart attitude. I can even see us being friends one day if you keep this up. I do hope you like the selection. This is the most girls we've had in a while, and some very beautiful ones."

I feel slimy just looking at this man.

"Hopefully we can look at everything that happened before as a misunderstanding." I shake his hand firmly and make certain to look into his eyes. Do I detect a little bit of fear there? It's something I'll have to analyze with the Prez later.

Soon enough, the lights dim, and we make our drink orders. It's time for the show to begin. The show I never wanted to watch.