Impossibly (Dante’s Nine MC #1)(50)
Author: Colleen Masters

“You’re like a new woman here, Kassie,” Kelly says, “Love has done you good.”

“You’ve got to stop using the ‘l word’,” I groan, resting my chin in my hands, “What am I even supposed to do? Declan doesn’t seem at all inclined to forget about his contract.”

“Just because he hasn’t said it out loud, doesn’t mean it’s not true,” she points out, “His eyes looked pretty loving to me. Maybe he’s just trying to protect himself.”

“Or me…” I say ponderously, as we’re furnished with our drinks.

“To love,” Kelly says, raising her glass, “Even the contractually forbidden kind.”

“Cheers,” I laugh, clinking my glass with hers, “Thank you for being here, Kel. I needed my best girlfriend more than I realized.”

“Of course babe,” she says, “I’ll always be here when you need me. Except…for right this second. I need to piss like a motherfucker.”

“Ladylike as ever,” I laugh, sipping my martini.

“Be back in a flash,” she winks, disappearing into the club.

I settle back with my fine drink, relishing the incredible music, the thrill of admitting my love for Declan out loud. What would he say if I told him how I was feeling? Would he be upset with me, or secretly glad? I’m not sure how much longer I can go without telling him what’s on my mind. Or rather, in my heart.

My cell phone starts to vibrate in my clutch, and I smile when I see that it’s Declan calling. Maybe he heard my thoughts all the way across town? More likely he’s just calling to check up on me, worrier that he is.

“Oh, hello darling,” I drawl, answering his call, “What—”

“Where are you?” he cuts me off. His voice is sharp as a razor blade, urgent and unforgiving. I’ve heard this tone before, the night that Lorenzo paid a visit to the Forty-Five Club. It means something major is up.

“Kelly and I are having drinks at that jazz club we love,” I tell him, “Is everything OK?”

“You need to get back here, right now,” he says, “Sam and I are coming to meet you outside of the casino.”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” he says, “Let’s just say that the deal I ducked out of is not exactly resolved. You may not be safe out alone tonight.”

“Jesus…” I breathe.

“You’ve got your gun, right?” he demands.

“Y-yeah—”

“Good. Get downstairs with Kelly. Stay in plain view of security. I’ll see you soon.”

“Wait—” I say, but the line goes dead. I stare at the phone in disbelief, wondering what could possibly be happening. “Kelly…” I mutter, leaping to my feet and charging toward the club’s bathrooms.

She’s been off on her own this whole time. A thousand nightmare scenarios play through my mind as I wind through the dimly lit club. I imagine that every face I pass is full of contempt and malice. Any one of these people could have foul plans for me. I slip my hand into my clutch and wrap my trembling fingers around my new gun.

“Kelly?” I call softly, nudging open the ladies’ room door, “Kelly, are you in here?”

“Uh-huh,” I hear my best friend reply. Her voice is high and strained. Terrified.

Oh shit, I think to myself, this is it. It’s going down. I swallow hard and take a step into the room. Is it the best idea to put myself in danger? Of course not. But that’s Kelly in there. I don’t have a choice. I round the corner and step into the small chamber. The scene unfolding before me slams into my chest like a wrecking ball.

Kelly is cowering against the far wall of the bathroom, eyes wide with fright. Flanking her are two tall, broad men with amused half smiles tacked on their faces. One sports a shaved head, the other an unsightly goatee. They look perfectly at ease, towering over a helpless woman. And I hate them for it, at once.

“Miss Bennett, we presume?” the bald one says, getting a great big kick out of his own tired humor.

“She needs to come with me,” I tell them, holding my hand out to Kelly.

“Well, that’s just not going to happen,” the goateed man laughs, grabbing onto Kelly’s arm, “Not before we’ve had a little chat.”

“Whatever you have to say to me has nothing to do with her,” I tell them through gritted teeth, “Just let her go, and we can have a conversation—”

“So she can go find security? Not a chance,” baldy says, “Besides, we need her here. See, we have clear instructions not to hurt you. But this one…”

Kelly winces as the thug tightens his grip on her arm.

“Stop it,” I say, my voice a thousand times stronger than I feel, “What do you want?”

“We have a message for your sugar daddy,” the bald man says, “From our boss, Mr. Conti. I assume you’ve heard of him?”

“Yes,” I breathe, “What’s the message?”

“Either Tiberi fights tomorrow, or we come for you.”

“Fine,” I say, ignoring the rush of fear that courses down my spine, “I’ll tell him. Just let us go.”

“But we haven’t even gotten to the good part!” the goateed man says, “We want to show you what will happen if your man doesn’t listen to our instructions. We thought we’d have to just tell you, but now we can demonstrate.”

He shoves Kelly hard against the wall. She cries out as her head cracks against the tile.

“We can’t hurt you, sure,” the bald man smiles, “But we can do whatever we like with this one…”

In one fluid motion, I pull the gun out of my clutch and train it right between the bald man’s eyes. Adrenaline seizes control of my body, steadying my hands, turning my voice to steel.

“Let her go,” I say, flicking the safety off, “Or I’ll blow both of your ugly faces off.”

The men gape at me, and Kelly’s face goes pure white. For a long moment, no one moves a muscle.

“Did I stutter?” I demand, louder this time, “Get your fucking hands off her.”

The men drop their hands, and Kelly rushes across the room to me. We back up, keeping our eyes trained on the men, looking after us in impotent wonder. I see baldy reaching into his jacket and react before I can think. I squeeze the trigger, aiming just to the right of his body. The bullet catches a golden faucet, sending a spray of water into the air as the men duck for cover and draw their weapons.