3. Rock and Hard Place （Hannah）

3

Rock and Hard Place (Hannah)

I told everyone I went to Seattle for business, but that was half the truth. It was several weeks after my brother's wedding, one more happiness cut short by looming hell.

They didn't know me. Not Huck, not Cora, not even Dust, who caused me to tingle every time I thought about the full body collision we had in his office.

They wouldn't believe the truth, even if I told them. I'd lived a lie so long I couldn't remember what honesty meant.

While they sang my praises, I kept that fake smile plastered to my face, showing the world the smart, sexy, highly successful woman they loved. Yeah, they were fucking clueless.

Truth was, everyone's favorite clean cut, bouncy, and brilliant entrepreneur of the year had her work cut out for her with secrets she could never tell. Dark secrets that would mean lost blood, not just lost money, if they ever spilled into the open.

So, I'd come to Seattle to face them again.

I sat in a back alley down by the bay, waiting for the scariest man in the world .

The stink of fish markets closing up for the evening wafted around me. A few couples strolled by, hand-in-hand, walking the main path by the docks while the sun slipped below the horizon.

The lucky ones. They didn't have a care in the world.

They didn't have to worry about a madman who might jab a knife in their spine if they said the wrong thing.

When my phone rang, I jumped, my hand shaking as I brought it to my ear. “Hello?”

“You're in the usual spot?”

“Yeah, I'm ready,” I said coldly, closing my eyes.

I'd lived what came next many times. My phone clicked dead a second later, and then the black sedan pulled up next to the alley, blocking any escape.

Doors opened. Two angry, stern looking men in suits and ties got out, combing the small space all around me.

“Stand up, doll. This'll only take a second.” I'd dealt with the one barking orders before. Tony, one of Dom's lackeys, a strong arm who always enjoyed groping me too much.

I stood up, wanting to get it over with. His hands roamed freely. They went up, down, behind my shirt, before he slipped to his knees to inspect me from the shoes up.

“No wires, no weapons. Bitch is clean,” he growled, speaking more loudly into the speaker clipped to his ear than the other goon leaning against the wall.

One more door to the car popped open. My eyes stayed closed for several more seconds, listening to his footsteps, wishing like hell I could just make it all disappear as easily as a bad dream.

“Hannah.”

As soon as the bastard said my name, I had to open my eyes and look at my tormenter. There he was.

Dominick Barone, or Dom, for short. A hired killer raised in the Sicilian Brotherhood, who'd infiltrated the multi-billion dollar Sterner empire of legit businesses where I'd interned. An utterly ruthless, heartless, savage son of a bitch who'd made me an offer too good to pass up.

I'd naively taken it. Too desperate, too hopeful, and too damned greedy for my own good.

“I don't know why we need to keep having these face-to-face meetings,” I said. “We could save ourselves some travel time and do it over the phone, or online. Ever tried Skype?”

Dom didn't look amused. He stared at me with his cold green eyes, his hair laid down like an oil slick, two jagged scars going up both his fifty year old cheeks. He'd gotten them in a brawl somewhere in Baltimore, back in the days when the mafias were limited to a few coastal cities.

Yes, I'd done my research. Learned everything I could about the monster at my throat, and I knew he was dangerous.

“No, peach. Travel has its charm. So does seeing you again,” he said, sitting down on the bench next to me. “You know how I feel about doing things in person, Hannah. Much less chance you ever fuck me over if you get any sick ideas in that pretty little head. ”

He never looked at me. Not once.

Instead, as he always did, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his knife and a fruit I'd never be able to look at again without turning my stomach.

Pomegranate. Raw, angry, and always glowing blood red.

Using his wickedly sharp blade to pry it open, he dug in, catching the seeds between his fingers and stuffing them into his mouth, one at a time.

“Tony, give her the damned file already,” he said, staring at a fresh red morsel in his fingers. “Look it over. You're gonna work everything in there into that goddamned app of yours. Another fake account for you to sync up. We'll transfer our cut straight to the shell business, the salons and pizzerias and shit, once you've coded it in. I'm making your job easy, peach, how 'bout a little gratitude?”

I said nothing. Tony stuffed a manila folder into my hands. I quickly opened it, looking through the documents, my heart twisting a little when I saw what they wanted.

They didn't understand software and builds like I did. They might as well have asked me to put a huge red flag on my dating app that said hello, FBI!

“Uh...you know this raises the risk of some nosy kid finding you out, right? It doesn't take much for anyone trying to duplicate my app to stumble onto the code you're requesting here. Trust me, there are a lot of copycats trying to be competitors these days.”

“Won't risk a damned thing,” Dom snapped. “See, that's where you snap your little fingers and pull another rabbit out of your sweet little ass. You've been smart enough to mask our shit up 'til now. Smart enough to make us a cool million in a week to pay back a little debt you owe from our seed money. You'll think of something brilliant, peach. Your magic works for both of us. Me and my boys will go ahead and make more money without Uncle Sam getting wise to it. And you'll get to keep that fancy fucking house, and inch forward, a little closer to the day when we won't have to do this no more.”

I still owed him three million. That day wouldn't come for at least another year or two, and only if the app kept making big money on paid subscriptions.

I'd seen new things flame out before. There were no guarantees in this business.

And if the Feds found out they were using me for money laundering, through an investigation or some kind of fluke...oh, God.

I'd end up on the wrong side of Dom's knife, or in a Federal jail cell for knowingly abetting a criminal scheme.

“Why you gotta look so sad? We've come a long, long way, haven't we, peach?”

I nodded glumly.

“That's right, so fuckin' far. I remember the night we met after Mister Sterner's company bash. You, fresh out of the slums with a fire in your belly and little real world job experience in your cap. Me, schmoozing you like a friend of Sterner's, pretending to be your angel investor. You told me how bad you wanted to be the next whiz kid in tech, have your face on every blog and magazine. I said I could make that happen. Shit, when I tossed you the paperwork for the loan, and told you I might want to keep some shit off the record, I never saw anybody sign so fast. Normally, they ask a lot of questions, too, and I have to make up stories. But you, peach...you were good. You trusted me, blind as a fucking bat. You were hungry, Hannah...too damned greedy for your own good.”

My stomach knotted, making me want to throw up. I hated him for reminding me how I'd trusted him, ignored all the signs that the flash investment in my idea was too good to be true. He'd stalked me like a wolf, and I'd walked into his jaws.

Why it happened, well, that wasn't a mystery. When a girl grows up dirt poor with nobody except her brother to look up to, she jumps the first time somebody offers her several million and a chance to blow up big.

Gullible? Oh yeah, and now I'd pay the price in blood and heartbreak.

“I'll do what I can.” The defeated tone in my voice sounded obvious, even to me.

“Fuck yeah, you will,” he growled, stuffing another pomegranate seed into his mouth. “Because you remember what happens if you don't? If you start to panic, take off, think you can cheat us out of our own money?”

“Yeah, Dom, I remember...I don't need another reminder.”

I can't fucking handle another one, you sick bastard, I thought to myself. Please, no reminder.

“Really, peach? Because your eyes are telling me maybe you do. Here, let me give you one.” Growling, he slammed his knife straight into his open fruit and cut straight down it, spilling red, slippery seeds everywhere. “You fuck up, you die. That simple. But first, before we bury you alive chained up in a drum, we get every goddamned dime we're owed in flesh and blood. We'll keep you chained up and use that rockin' pussy of yours every damned day we want. Hunt down every friend and kin you've ever had. No, that damned biker patch on your brother won't save him. We'll bring you his fucking face skinned off his body and throw it in yours. I hear his new wife's knocked up, about to squeeze out a kid. Maybe we bring your little niece to say hello to auntie, one piece at a time...”

Rage, hurt, and fear churned in my intestines. How he kept such close tabs on me, I had no idea, and I was too sick to care.

My ears stopped working at some point while he droned on about the sadistic things he'd do to me. I couldn't mentally handle the list of atrocities he ran off, and so I shut down, his threats fading into my heartbeat's savage roar.

He was talking about killing Huck, my brother, and his family. The only thing I held onto after we both escaped that shitty trailer we'd grown up in. The only one who'd ever cared, who had more to live for than me.

Then he talked about sex, violating me in ways I didn't dare imagine. It shouldn't have been as revolting as the death threats, but it was, because I was still a virgin.

“And when we're all through with that, peachy pie, we'll make sure nobody ever finds your fuckin' body outside the fishes. It's a big ocean. You see that shit out there?”

I refused to follow his knife, pointed over the top of the car. He motioned out to sea, past all the cranes from the loading docks, where the depths were deep, dark, choppy.

“Damn it, bitch, I said look. Tony!”

Grabbing my head, his goon twisted it around, forcing me to see where I'd wind up – probably in pieces – if I didn't obey his every whim.

“We've dumped a lot of people out there, Hannah. Made more bastards and bitches disappear in so many underwater trenches it'd make Davy fuckin' Jones himself jealous. This isn't just a debt,” he growled, his ice cold face coming closer and closer to mine.

Tony's grip on me tightened. I couldn't move. My blood was officially iced over. A single livid tear slid down my cheek, tracing a fiery trail across my skin.

“None of this has to happen, Hannah. You do what you're told, pay us back with interest, we won't have any problems like figuring out how many fucks it takes to get bored before giving you to hell,” he said, extending a finger.

Everything inside me recoiled when he touched me, catching my tear on his fingertip. He brought it back to his lips with a growl, opening those dry lips just enough so he could suck my pain off his finger.

“Let her go, boys. We're done here.” He stood, slamming the heel of his perfectly polished shoe on what's left of the pomegranate. “Until next time, my Georgia Peach.”

Yeah, next time. I tried to stop shaking while I watched them walk slowly to their car, get in, and drive off like ordinary businessmen.

I never dared to correct them about my birthplace, Tennessee, born and raised. They knew everything else about me, and the one simple fact they'd gotten wrong wouldn't change anything.

Clenching the manila envelope, I stuffed it into my purse, and started walking briskly away from the docks, into the city.

I'd been planning to have dinner with Ty and his family tomorrow, my old billionaire boss from several years ago, but now it wasn't even a possibility. I had to find an excuse to blow him off, anything to avoid breaking down about my plight in front of the man who'd been a mentor to me.

After that, I had to catch the first flight the hell out of here.

As soon as I checked out of my room, I called my brother, asking if he had any contacts in Atlanta so I wouldn't have to rent a car for the drive home to Knoxville.

Fierce storms tore up the Tennessee skies yesterday, and more were coming tonight. I didn't want to take a chance on my connecting flight getting delayed. I had to get home.

First opportunity, I'd be getting hammered to forget Dom and the mammoth amount of life-or-death coding work he'd dropped in my lap. Too bad a girl can't drink and drive several hundred miles.

“You're coming back already? What the fuck happened?” Firefly growled into the receiver.

“Nothing, nothing! Ty has kids, and our meeting got cut short. You're about to find out what that's all about.” I smiled, trying to focus on knowing I'd be an aunt soon, once Cora's baby came. “I'm flying into Atlanta tonight. I don't want to deal with the drive in the dark, so I'm wondering if there are any club assets in Georgia?”

“Not many since shit went down there last time. Just Dust.”

Dust. My heart nearly exploded behind my ribs.

Dust, with his strong, quiet, teasing ways.

Dust, with his hands and mouth that set me on fire. I always had a strange fascination with scary body art thanks to Firefly, and the tapestry painted on Dusty's skin made my brother's look like a child's painting.

Dusty, the man I never should've kissed, much less thrown another hook to, who'd known me when I was just Firefly's scrawny little sis. Now, he treated me like a woman, and I ate it up.

Beautiful, dangerous, bossy Dusty.

“You're sure there aren't any prospects?” I asked softly. About a hundred butterflies took flight in my belly, imaging all the things that could happen if I took a ride home with Dust tonight. Alone.

“No. Prez is the only option, take him or leave him. I can't come down and get you with everything going on up here, unless you're in a bind.”

“Nah, it's fine. Thanks, Huck. I'll see you soon for the baby shower.”

Perfect timing. The agent at the gate to my flight announced the start of boarding, and I had about five more minutes to decide if I wanted to give Dust a call before I got on .

I wanted my ride. Hell, maybe part of me wanted to ride him, but I'd never live it down if I did.

And if I broke down in front of him, remembering my mess with Dom, the double life I'd been leading for the past year as a hostage to the animal I should've been smart enough to avoid...

The club would have open war.

God, I wanted to see him again. Forgetting the mobster's blood chilling threats sounded pretty good just then, too. I needed a distraction.

If there was any man who could make me forget my secret woes, it was the big, gorgeous bastard whose number was staring me in the face on my contacts.

“Attention, attention, attention! We're now boarding rows 17-D,” the agent blared into the microphone.

Decision time. I clenched my teeth, letting out the biggest sigh in the world when I pressed the call button, and watched with my stomach twisted in a knot, while my phone connected to Dust.