Cold Bastard Page 15

  Automatically, her hand slipped into her bag beside her and touched the cool metal, praying for strength, when something buzzed against her wrist. Closing her eyes in dread, Zoe picked up her phone.

  “You never disappoint, Miss Somersby. I dare say that I feel prouder about your prowess than any of my bastard children. Now, at 11 p.m. tonight, go deliver the Flash drive to the address I will send you. Only give it to a man named Hellhound.”

  Another text appeared with the address.

  Hellhound was an apt name as she was dealing with the devil himself.

  Chapter 20

  The meeting flew by, as half of the time, Zoe’s brain was busy, madly processing all the data she had gathered, and the awful things she had done.

  Archer wrapped things up and, apart from offering a smile to Anton Vasiliev as they departed and Zoe promising him a dance at the ball the next evening, they were off. Back in his detached persona, Archer stayed quiet as they walked to the elevator followed by Lance and rode it down to the lobby. Kai was waiting by the car.

  Just as they were about to head out, Archer grabbed her hand. The face was hard, but the touch was gentle. “Go home. I have meetings to attend, but you’re not needed until tomorrow morning. Try to eat. I’ll try to drop by later if I can.”

  His thumb caressed her knuckles and with a deep look, he was off. He and Lance retraced their steps, probably going into the underground parking. Kai was waiting for her just outside the door. As she stepped outside, he escorted her to the car and closed the door before taking his seat.

  Silence again. This was so unlike her. She was usually chatty, scandalous, obnoxious, but now Zoe was unable to recognize the person she had become. A look at Kai told her that he was adapting his conduct to hers. How did he do it?? She didn’t know much about his past, or what he was, only that he was former Delta Force from the little Gabrielle had said. Dangerous work, and yet, his sense of humor was still there.

  “How did you do it?”

  Zoe realized she had spoken out loud and winced.

  Kai frowned, his eyes still on the road. “How did I do what?”

  Well, it was out, and she was curious. “I just wanted to know how you face dangerous situations and not lose yourself, or your humanity doing it. Gabrielle told me you were in Delta Force. That’s a dangerous job, full of hardship and horror, yet, you still laugh, and you joke. I was just wondering how it was possible.”

  Kai blinked several times and finally smiled. “I don’t know, Zoe. It’s true that what I did was dangerous and uncertain. I’ve lost men, been wounded too. I can only speak for myself, but I guess I was stronger than all that. Don’t get me wrong, nothing is perfect, and I have plenty of ghosts of my own, but I made a decision and it kept me going.”

  “And what was that?”

  This time, his gray eyes focused on her. “I wanted to live. Not only be alive. When you make that decision, the rest comes more easily. It gives you a purpose.”

  It didn’t help her, but it settled her swirling emotions somehow. Lucas would live. And that’s all that mattered. Lucas would be her purpose. And Archer her greatest regret.

  During the ride, Kai tried to find out what was going on in her head, but Zoe avoided his questions, tightening her grip on her handbag. As her mind settled, ideas started to flow, helping her to plan the next step.

  When they arrived, Kai offered to escort her to her door, but she told him it was alright. Smiling at him, a way of reassuring the man, she got out and waved as he drove away. Rapidly, Zoe went to her apartment to get changed; a dark pair of jeans, black sweater and a pair of boots. Putting her hair in a ponytail, she grabbed her cell phone and the Flash drive. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to get to the address, but a quick look at her GPS told her that with a car, she would be on time. But where to find a car at this time of night??

  Locking her apartment, she rushed down the stairs and knocked on her neighbor’s door. Marcus opened the door, a big grin on his face, and wearing purple silk pajamas. “Oh, Zoe!” And he turned and shouted inside. “It’s darling Zoe!” Come on in! Mrs. Lupe is still presentable.” Zoe followed as he opened the door wide, with much flourish. The apartment was small, but cozy and colorful, obviously inspired by the two people living there together. Both of them were usually night owls, but as Mrs. Lupe wasn’t getting any younger, sometimes the lights were out much earlier. That said, Zoe found herself lucky they were still up. Mrs. Lupe was in her chair, like a queen granting audiences.

  “Mi hija, my sweet girl.”

  At her warm welcome, Zoe almost broke right then and there in tears. Instead, she fought them off and went to kiss the woman who embraced her tenderly. When she drew back, Mrs. Lupe caught her cheeks. “Oh, how pale you are. Drawn, with so much worry in your green eyes.”

  “Only worry from work, Mrs. Lupe. It’s life, I suppose.”

  By the look of her, the Puerto Rican woman wasn’t fooled by her lie, but was wise enough not to ask questions.

  “I was wondering if you knew somebody with a car that I can borrow?? Only for tonight. I’ll pay for gas, and I assure you, I’m a good driver.”

  The woman patted her hand. “You can take my car, dear.”

  Marcus hmphed in the background. “You never lend me your car!”

  Mrs. Lupe winked at her. “That’s because you can’t drive worth a damn. That’s why my nephew is the one driving me around and not you.”

  The bickering between the two was very warm and amusing. “Instead of whining, give her the keys, Marcus.”

  The man made a dramatic exit before coming back, handing her the keys. “Her Majesty’s car is on the side street. The silver sedan.”

  “A gift from my nephew, mi gordito.” Mrs. Lupe beamed.

  What a generous nephew, she thought. Zoe closed her fingers over the key. “I promise to take great care of it. And return it with a full tank.”

  “No worries, my sweet. Off you go. Be careful, okay?”

  Zoe could only smile as she left. There was no way to know what was waiting for her at that address.

  As she walked on the sidewalk toward the car, her eyes started scanning the darkness. Paranoia was settling in, whether she wanted it or not. Unsure which car belonged to Mrs. Lupe, Zoe pressed the unlock button to identify it. The blinking lights were those of a silver Mercedes, fully equipped, gleaming under the streetlights.

  Zoe whistled softly, but there was no time to admire the fine engine. Getting in, she set the GPS and drove off.

  The road was easy at this time of night, and she made good time, according to her GPS. The route wasn’t that complicated, either. However, by the sights around her, there was no doubt that she was entering another type of Chicago, darker, poorer and definitely with an air of danger. The feeling reminded her of when she’d accompanied a convoy in certain parts of Iraq. Not visually, but the feeling that slithered inside her gut. It appeared somewhat civilized, but she wasn’t fooled. Anxiety rose, not because of the meet, but because of the car! What if the car was damaged, or worse?

  Pushing that thought away after deciding that she could withdraw her pension plan to reimburse it if anything happened, Zoe started checking the buildings. A difficult task as the lighting was scarce, until she realized that the address was probably those great big blinking lights of a tit bar called El Diablo. Great, just great. Finch was trying to get her killed, raped, skinned, or whatever they did in this place. One thing for sure, she wasn’t going to strip.

  Parking near the entrance, Zoe decided against locking the doors, it would look like she was afraid. Not that she wasn’t, but...

  Walking straight and determined, she headed for the front door. There were loads of bikes and many men at the door smoking, with almost completely naked women hanging from them like monkeys. As she passed by, Zoe heard lewd comments in Spanish, but at least they kept their hands to themselves. Going through the entrance and in front of a stunned doorman, who clearly didn’t know what do to wit
h her, music hit her like a wall, like the smell of weed smoke and cheap sex.

  “Well, Zoe, you’re in, now time to find the Hellhound.” She looked around and, at the other end of the place, there was a large bar beside a stage. Strewn around her were old sofas surrounding mini stages with single poles. To her right, was a large curtain where patrons went in with the girls. The walls were a shade of dirty red and half-lit neon lights. The place wasn’t quite packed, but there were still quite a lot of people here. Her phone told her that it was twenty before eleven. But who was Hellhound? After her eyes got accustomed to the flashing strobes, it seemed that the place was mostly frequented by Hispanics, both the men and the dancers. No redheads for sure.

  Zoe made her way to the bar that was quite deserted, except for the barman, a man in his fifties, preparing the orders from the waitresses. Waiting, she sat on a stool until the man with the handlebar mustache caught a glimpse of her. His double take was almost comical, Zoe wasn’t in the mood; her self-preservation mode in overdrive. Carefully, he approached and put his elbow on the counter.

  “I don’t care what wager you made with your girlfriends, Chica, it’s not worth it. Get out before it gets ugly.”

  If only! “No wager, I’m looking for someone.”

  “I know nobody.”

  Undeterred, she continued. “I’m looking for the Hellhound.” That made the impression she hoped for. The man gaped at her and quickly closed his mouth. Then, he started a string of curses that would have made even Mrs. Lupe blush.

  “Cursing won’t make me leave. I have an appointment at eleven, I’m staying until then. And having a drink.” Her mind wandered toward rum for a flash and decided why not. “Rum, please.”

  She must have looked determined enough because the barman sighed and served her. Music boomed behind her, and the DJ announced some dancer, followed by cheers and catcalls. The crowd moved like a beast, but she didn’t dare look, her eyes on her drink, swirling the dark liquid in the glass, over and over again as if the meaning of life was in it.

  Someone came to stand beside her before sitting down, and she sighed, glancing up at the clock over the bar. It wasn’t eleven yet, so this was only but an annoyance.

  “The purpose of rum is to drink it.”

  How lucky for her to find Einstein in a strip club. Not even turning her head, Zoe shrugged. “No need to test your pickup lines, I’m not here for that.”

  The stranger waited a beat. “If you came here to sell a car, I will be royally pissed.”

  Sell a car?

  Zoe turned her head to look at the man talking to her. A breathtaking specimen of a man. Definitely Hispanic with deep brown hair combed back and dark, swirling irises. He had quite an impressive built, one she found similar to the soldiers she’d worked with. Not from pushing iron, but from much more strenuous work. His black shirt was rolled up on his arms, revealing honed muscles and ink. A lot of ink covering his forearms and part of his hands. Some of it snaked out of his collar too. He was gang-related, no doubt about it. However, Zoe knew almost nothing about those symbols. She would probably have an easier time telling soldiers or sailors apart by bars and medals than by looking at the man’s tattoos.

  “What car? What are you talking about?”

  Handsome turned into fury as he bashed his fist into the counter making her jump.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me. You stole a car!”

  Zoe gaped. “I didn’t steal anything, you dumbass! Now get lost.”

  She returned to her glass, tired of being threatened. Instead of frightening her now, it made her want to bash something. Good!

  In a swift movement, he grabbed her stool and turned it, so she was facing him. Each of his arms trapped her and his face was so close, it took a moment to make the focus behind her glasses.

  “You. Stole. A. Car. Admit it.”

  “Stop. Spitting. In. My. Glasses. Moron.” She tried to push the wall of muscle, but he was a brick wall. “I didn’t steal anything and you’re a lunatic!”

  “The car you came in with is my aunt’s. What do you say about that?”

  Irritation fled when his words made their way through her brain. Zoe immediately smiled and could tell he now thought she must be a lunatic. “You’re Mrs. Lupe’s nephew? The one who gave her the car? The one she called, mi gordito? My little fat one?”

  This time, it was her turn to see his brain having a workout. Muscle by muscle he relaxed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Well, I was a little fat growing up.”

  “I wasn’t mocking you. It’s an endearment, and she loves you immensely. And let me assure you that I don’t see an ounce of fat on you. She and Marcus are my neighbors. I needed a car to come here and she lent it to me.”

  Ever so slowly, the man sat back, astonishment on his face. “You told her you were coming in this part of town and she said, sure, take my car?”

  Rolling her eyes, she was about to reply when her phone buzzed. An incoming call from Archer she ignored. One angry male at a time, please!

  “No, I only asked her if she had a car. I needed to get to this address. I didn’t know where it was exactly, I’m not from Chicago. I just followed the GPS.”

  Handsome shook his head. “Dumb move, if you want my opinion.”

  Zoe looked at the clock and saw that it was eleven. “I don’t want your opinion. Now if you could leave, that would make my day.” Ignoring him she turned her stool around to face the bar and took a sip of her glass. The damn man didn’t move!

  “I told you to get lost. I’ll return your aunt’s car in one piece, I promise. As soon as I’m done here.”

  “The only reason it’s still in one piece, is because I have my men making sure of it. Coming here is beyond dangerous, don’t you see that, or do you have a death wish?”

  “You know nothing about me, what’s going on, why I’m here, so please... I’m at the end of my rope and I don’t need another person telling me it’s dangerous or what to do.”

  It took a moment to realize she was yelling at the guy and had to take a deep breath to calm herself down. “Listen. Thanks for guarding the car. I appreciate it, but I’m way over my head with other problems, and you standing by my side probably isn’t helping. Okay?”

  Again, ignoring him, Zoe prayed for this hell to be over, and for Lucas, Archer, and everybody to be safe.

  “Hey! Maybe I can help you. If my aunt trusts you, I can trust you too.”

  That statement, sounding so sincere, made her sob. “Oh, boy. Don’t use that term to define me. Please. Everything is such a mess, a tangle of lies and deception. And I’ve been so honest up till now. It’s so laughable. I’m laughable.”

  The stranger remained silent for a moment. “Do you have a good reason to lie to so many people?”

  Still unable to look at him, her eyes filled with tears at the image of Lucas. “The only one that matters.”

  The stranger touched her shoulder and she turned to him. He extended his hand. “I’m Hector Nazario.”

  With a defeated breath, she touched his hand. “I’m Zoe.”

  The smile he offered her was full of warmth. Encouraging. “You’re in a jam, Zoe. Maybe I can help you. And before you say no, you don’t have to give me any information. I don’t need you to lie to me. Just tell me what you’re supposed to do here so you can get out as soon as possible.”

  Still hesitating, her cell buzzed once more. Archer.

  “Boyfriend?”

  Zoe shook her head. “When he learns what I did, I don’t think he will ever have anything to do with me. He will despise me. But I have no choice.”

  For a long moment, those dark eyes bore into hers before he nodded. “Okay. You came here because you had no other choice. Now, what are you supposed to do?”

  Her eyes went to the clock. “At eleven, I was supposed to meet the Hellhound. I have something to give him.”

  Hector scowled. “You know the Hellhound is a nickname around here for a messenger. An anonymous messen
ger used only by dangerous people.”

  Zoe nodded. “Yes, I have to give him something. That’s it.”

  Hector nodded and looked around the club. She followed his gaze until he connected with a man sitting in a booth. They exchanged a nod and the man came over to Hector. He whispered something she couldn’t hear, and the man turned again.

  “What? Is he the Hellhound?”

  Hector downed his drink and made a sign for the bartender to bring two more. “No. But Hellhounds are shy, and if he sees you with me, he won’t come near you.”

  Panic seized her, and she grasped his elbow. “Then you have to leave. Now. Quick.”

  The barman came and put two glasses in front of him. Hector pushed one toward her. “No way I’m leaving your side. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, let alone still have your clothes on. My man will bring the Hellhound to you, when he sees him. They are known in my world, so he won’t be difficult to spot.”

  Men roared behind her as another woman came strutting on the stage. “If it would save my brother, I would gladly get them all off and walk into the lions’ den.”

  Hector gave her an appreciative glance. “I’m the only one with restraint here.”

  Zoe tilted her head at him. “Maybe, but as nobody has even approached the bar, I think you’re the most dangerous man here, and I’m glad you have restraint.”

  Chapter 21

  Her phone buzzed again, but Zoe didn’t even look at it. Ignoring Hector’s curiosity, she downed her rum. The burn was soothing somehow. In the background, a man yelped, and chairs fell. When she turned, Zoe saw Hector’s man dragging a small blond guy, wire-thin, and dressed in oversized pants, to the bar. Surprisingly, nobody, apart from herself, seemed even remotely interested in what was happening. The girls wiggled, the men drooled. A normal night at the El Diablo from what she could see.

  The whimpering man’s knees buckled when he reached the bar. Hector didn’t even turn. Zoe was unsure how to react, so she waited for a cue. Was he the Hellhound? How could she be sure of it?