Chapter 13

At eleven thirty, Juliet went into the empty locker room for her break and stashed her tips. Her feet felt numb in the heels, and her back ached. Thank God this day is almost over.

Deke entered and closed the door. “How does it feel to be back, baby?”

She headed for the mirror and shoved pins in her wig. She could do this. No. Was doing this. Except this time on her terms, not Deke’s. “First”—she stabbed another pin—“I’m not your baby. Second, I’m setting the rules.” Finished with her hair, she returned to her locker. It still displayed her stage name. Jade.

He came up close. “What rules?”

She turned away from his garlic-stained breath. “I go on four times every night for the next nine nights, including Saturday.” She had no idea how she’d handle stripping with the Rafe situation, but hopefully he’d be gone in a few days. And it wasn’t like they were spending their nights together.

“No.” Deke’s hot hands found her waist. “You get two acts a night twice a week.”

“Next rule.” She pried off his sweaty fingers and checked her cell. No crazy texts. She threw it into her purse. “I choose the private laps.”

Please God, if you’re listening, make the private laps not necessary.

“Jade.” Deke leaned against the locker next to hers, arms crossed, his gaze fastened on her breasts. “You’re not the only woman here.”

She slammed her locker door. “In return for my silence about your other job, I work off the books and keep all tips. You get the fifteen percent house take.”

“It’s twenty-five percent.” He licked his lips. “Baby.”

Why hadn’t she put on a sweatshirt before having this conversation? Because, to succeed on her own, she had to use all of her weapons. “I’m not the girl I was. I’ve learned a few things.”

Deke’s leer settled into a frown, and he stalked her. She moved until her back hit a locker. His hands landed on either side of her head, but she kept her chin up and her gaze firm.

“I can’t wait to see what you’ve learned since you left me.” The bulge in his pants grew.

She caught their combined reflection in the mirrored wall behind him. His predatory stance hid her body from view, but she didn’t need to see herself to know her own strength. “Fifteen percent belongs to the house. That extra ten percent ended up in your pocket. But I’m not giving it to you.”

He tried to kiss her neck. “No?”

“No.” She ducked under his arm and crossed the room.

Deke laughed. “If you want to do your thing in that cage, you’ll do as I say.”

Tremors rumbled in her stomach. “You want me, Deke?”

“You know I do.” He opened his arms as if waiting for her to get on her knees. “I know what you are, Jade. We’re the same. Both willing to do anything to survive.”

Although they were nothing alike, she’d never go back to those dark nights on the streets, alone, hungry, and terrified. That meant lies had to be part of the plan. “If I make what I need, you get what you want.”

His eyes widened as if she were already naked. “Now?”

“After—”

Deke threw her against the wall. Her head hit the concrete, and the room shimmered. He held her wrists over her head and pressed his erection into her stomach. His lips moved to her breasts. “I’ve waited too long.”

No. She kneed him, catching his thigh instead.

He slapped her. “Bitch!”

She crashed onto the linoleum. Her head bounced on the floor, and everything shifted from light to dark. The stench of lemon bleach and Deke’s sweat burned her nose. “No!”

His weight on her forced the last air out of her lungs. He gripped her wrists with one hand as his other forced her legs apart.

She bucked and kicked. “Stop!”

A door banged open, and male shouts filled the room. At the sudden lift of weight, she scrambled back against the wall. Her wig shifted, blinding her.

Fists cracked, and glass shattered. The crunch of metal sounded like cars crashing. But she didn’t care. She had to get her stilettos off to run.

She kicked off the heels and fumbled with her wig. Bone cracked bone. Someone smashed into something metal. Her fingers dug for bobby pins, but the wig wouldn’t come off.

Heavy boots beat the floor. “Grab him!” Pete said.

“Thtupid bith! Netht time—”

The thud of a fist hitting flesh answered. Followed by scuffling that got louder and then receded. A door slammed shut, leaving her in silence. She curled up and wheezed out short breaths. She wanted to throw up and fade away. Minutes or hours later, soft hands touched her shoulders, and Juliet jumped.

“You’re safe.” Samantha pulled out bobby pins and freed Juliet from the fake hair. “They took Deke away. He won’t hurt anyone again.”

Juliet stood, and Samantha wrapped a plaid blanket around her shoulders. “Deke didn’t… I mean, you’re okay?”

“No…I’m okay.”

Samantha pressed her forehead against Juliet’s until their noses touched. “Thank God.”

Juliet shook like she’d been shoved in a barrel and rolled down a hill.

“Watch your feet.” Samantha led her to a bench. “There’s broken glass everywhere.”

Juliet sat and pulled her hair behind her neck to survey the damage from the mirror’s reflection. A beast had torn through the room. Some lockers were dented; others lay on their sides. Glass bowls had shattered, condoms and bobby pins flung everywhere. And her face—she had a bruise on her cheek, and her lips were swollen. She dropped her head. What was she going to do now?

“Is she alright?” a man said from behind them. “Do we need an ambulance?”

“No,” Samantha said. “Juliet isn’t hurt. I’m so grateful you got here in time.”

The air hummed like static before a storm, and Juliet faced Rafe. He wore clean jeans and a black T-shirt, and his chiseled face was taut, eyes questioning, hands fisted. As he came closer, massive biceps flexed. The blue ribbon had been cleaned and tied tight.

He blinked, and his forehead furrowed. “Juliet?”

A vein pounded in his neck. He raised his tattooed arm to run his hand over his head. She stood, tightening the blanket around her. For some reason, he seemed larger than earlier in the day. Maybe because she felt so damn small and vulnerable.

Moving slowly, he took her free hand. His touch sent a hot rush through her body. She turned, crushed under the loss of her dignity, unable to bear his pity.

“Please. Look at me.”

She broke away and licked her dry lips. This couldn’t have been more of a nightmare if she’d planned it.

He rubbed a fist across his chin and glanced between her and Samantha.

Samantha moved until her shoulder touched Juliet’s. “Didn’t I meet you earlier today in Juliet’s shop?”

“This is Rafe.” Juliet swallowed, tasting blood.

“Oh.” Samantha’s eyes went wide, and then she scowled. “Your husband.”

“Ex-husband.” Juliet took Samantha’s hand. “I’d like to shower and change before the girls go on their breaks. Can you make sure no one comes in?”

“No way.” Samantha squeezed Juliet’s fingers and glared at Rafe. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Neither am I.” Rafe kept flexing his fingers. “Why were you…”

“Stripping?” Juliet met his gaze. “It’s—”

The door opened, and another man entered. “Do we need an ambulance? Or the cops?”

Green eyes. Blond hair. Large hands. Goose bumps clawed their way up her arms. Her toes curled against the floor. Nate?

“No ambulance,” Rafe said, still staring at her. “And no cops. We’ll handle Deke.”

Except Nate didn’t respond. His gaze had clasped onto hers, eyes wide.

Another locker fell, and she jumped. The jarring noise clarified things. She was in a strip club with Rafe and Nate.

She went to her locker and retrieved her bag. “Are you two working together again?” She hated the tremble in her voice and slammed the locker door shut.

“Juliet,” Rafe said, “we have to talk.”

“I just want to shower, change, and go home.” Then she’d spend the rest of the night figuring out how to make twenty grand in nine days. “If what you want to talk about has anything to do with Nate, I’ve nothing to say.” She avoided Rafe’s pleading gaze and entered the shower room.

Her bare feet hit the cold tile, but before she could bar the door, it flew open. She dropped her bag as Rafe stormed in, nostrils flared. He shut the door with his boot. Then he locked it and stopped inches away. He used a finger to tilt her chin up, but she turned. Just not fast enough to miss the shadows darkening his brown eyes. The brown eyes she’d once trusted. The brown eyes she’d once drowned in.

With his thumb, he traced her swollen cheek. He swallowed, and she couldn’t help herself. She followed the action. Her gaze skimmed his chest that rose and fell in undulations. He took her elbows and moved in. He didn’t hurt her, but she felt the strength in his grip through the blanket. His breath grazed her hair, and her heart tumbled over itself.

His lips hovered over hers. “Juliet.”

She inhaled sharply. Of all the daydreams she’d had of seeing him again, she’d always pictured herself strong and fierce, armed with insults and indifference. Not shamed, tongue-tied, and on the verge of tears.

She pulled away and sat on a bench. Although she was grateful he’d saved her, she’d just lost her last chance to save everything that mattered.

He sat next to her. His knees almost touched hers, and he pressed his elbows into his thighs. “Why are you here?”

She was glad he sat on her right side. She didn’t want to see his other arm. And while talking about this was the last thing she wanted to do, it might end the night sooner. “I need fast money to save my business.” Her feet burned, and she realized they had tiny cuts, probably from the glass. “And Nate? You’re working with your old unit again?”

“Not exactly.” Rafe focused on her bruised cheek. “Nate is helping me. I’m helping him.”

She snorted. “Nate wouldn’t help a pregnant woman in a wheelchair cross the street.”

Rafe frowned. “That’s harsh.”

Nate deserved it. “Although I agreed to work with you, if your plan involves Nate, I’m not interested.” She stood. “Now I’d appreciate it if you’d leave so I can change.”

* * *

Rafe gripped his knees with his fingers. He’d heard a woman’s scream on his way to the VIP room and rushed in, not realizing the woman in gold had been Juliet. His wife.

Knocks banged on the door behind him as a cell phone rang.

Juliet answered her phone, “Juliet Capel,” and turned away.

He unlocked the door to find Pete on the other side. “Everyone okay in there?”

No. “Where’s Deke?”

“In the control room.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Pete left as Samantha scooted around them, heading to Juliet, who was still on the phone.

“Yes, Father Quinn,” Juliet said. “I’ll come right away.” She hung up and turned on one of the showers. “Rafe, please go so I can change.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“A client.” She glanced at his tattooed arm, and then at the floor. “I need to swing by a work site before I go home.”

He scowled. “It’s almost midnight.”

Samantha moved closer to Juliet. “The girls are coming in, and someone needs to tell them what happened.”

“Nate can handle it,” Rafe said.

“Your shoulder,” Juliet said. “Are you bleeding?”

A stain bled through his T-shirt. The knife wound had reopened, and he hadn’t even noticed. Except now that the adrenaline was wearing off, his aches rushed back. “It’s nothing.”

“You should get it looked at,” Samantha said.

“A good thing to do now,” Juliet added.

A cloud of steam from the shower reached for his wife. With her hair down her back, pale face, and dark eyes, she belonged in one of his erotic dreams. Not in a sleazy strip club. “I don’t want you going anywhere alone. Get dressed and meet me in the control room.”

The women glanced at each other, and then laughed.

Realizing retreat was the better option, he left the shower room and strode through the dressing room. But when he passed her locker, he slammed his fist into the center of the name Jade. Pain shot through his swollen knuckles and up his arm. The metal caved in on itself until the lock and hinges broke. He glanced back to see the women standing next to each other in the shower room doorway. They’d stopped laughing.

Juliet would never have to demean herself again. He’d make damn sure of that.

Outside the control room door, Pete stopped him. “I swear we didn’t know Juliet worked here. This is the first we’ve seen her.”

Rafe’s heart braced against the memory of that moment when he’d stared into his bride’s eyes. He knew that look. Had seen it on the battlefield, in the faces of the men he’d executed. They’d been the eyes of a woman who’d seen too much, had been hurt too many times, and was determined to protect herself. “I know.”

“Samantha just told me Juliet worked here for years but stopped a while ago. Apparently, she needed money. Fast. Something about refinancing a business loan.”

She’d worked here for years? And returned the same day he’d come home? The same day Escalus had died? Not a coincidence. “I believe you.”

Pete’s shoulders dropped three inches. “Good.”

Now that blame had been redirected, Rafe entered the control room. Pete closed the door. Deke lay on this back, his hands and feet and mouth duct-taped.

Nate pointed at Deke. “This POS begged us not to call the cops. Said that as long as we didn’t turn him in, he’d leave town.”

“He’d come back.”

Deke shook his head, banging it against the floor.

“You did a hell of a job on him,” Nate said.

A knock sounded. The security camera in the hallway ID’d Samantha.

Pete let her in, but when Samantha saw Deke, she halted. “I need help in the dressing room. The women are freaking out.”

“I’ll go.” Pete left and Samantha followed until Rafe blocked the door, stopping her.

“How could you let her strip? You’re her friend.”

A snarl marred her pretty features. “You were her husband. Yet you destroyed her. You’re a monster. A cheat. A traitor.”

“Samantha,” Nate warned. “Drop it.”

She snorted. “Will we ever know why Juliet had such a strong reaction to you?”

“That situation was volatile by the time I got there,” Nate said.

Rafe stared at his ex-CO. Juliet had had an unusually strong reaction to Nate. But with all the shit going on, did it matter?

Deke moaned on the floor, and Rafe kicked him in the ribs.

No. It didn’t matter. At least not right now.

“Samantha?” Pete poked his head back into the room. “Where’s Juliet?”

Samantha smiled liked she’d sucked the cream out of a French pastry. “She went to the cathedral.”

Rafe clenched his fists. He was at the very end of his patience stick. “Alone?”

“Yep.”

Pete took her arm as if he knew he had to get her out of there before Rafe forgot he’d never hurt a woman. “Please go tell the women everything is fine.”

Samantha tossed her hair, stomped on Deke’s balls, and left.

Deke curled up like a crumpled black-leather napkin, hard angles both turned in and sticking out. His muffled cry competed with a high-pitched ring from the speaker above the computers. Bruce’s signal meant trouble in the VIP room.

“Who’s that?” Pete pointed to the VIP room monitor.

Nate stepped over Deke to see the screen. Then he whistled low.

Bruce flashed a frantic hand signal.

“Hell, Rafe,” Pete said. “That man walks like you.”

The man wore leather pants and a black leather coat with a hood covering his face. He worked his way through the crowd, avoiding the women who sidled up to him. He moved with no jerky movements. The kind of gait that took strength, flexibility, and self-control to appear as if one skimmed over water. He oozed confidence and power.

Rafe planted his fists on the table. His nightmare was complete. “He works for the Prince.”

The leather-clad man went through the emergency exit leading into the alley. The alarm started.

“Turn off the alarm, Pete. Then kill the security camera in the alley.”

Pete clicked away, turning off the noise. “Why?”

Rafe didn’t answer. “Nate, go to the cathedral. Watch over Juliet until I can get there.”

“But—”

“You want my help, this is the deal. Go out the front. Don’t let him see you.”

“Who is he?” asked Pete.

“Balthasar. The Prince’s second-in-command. If he sees either of you, he’ll kill you.”

Nate and Pete stilled, as if standing at attention.

“And don’t let any of the women leave until I take care of Balthasar.”

“What about him?” Pete motioned to Deke. Although his wrists were bound and tears stained his cheeks, he was trying to pull the duct tape off his mouth.

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck. He was out of time and options. “Deke remains here until closing. Then you and Nate will take Deke to the bus station and stay with him until he’s gone. If he comes back, he’s dead.”

Nate frowned. “You sure Deke won’t get loose?”

“Yes.” Rafe grabbed the duct tape and moved his jacket to find a hammer and a nail in the toolbox on the table. His jacket fell on the floor and Pete picked it up.

Rafe knelt next to Deke and whispered in his ear. “Do you know what sans pitié means?”

Deke’s swollen eyes went as wide as they could.

Yeah. Everyone in Savannah knew what that meant. “Good. Because if you return, that’s what you’ll get.” Rafe forced Deke’s head sideways and against the floor. “Help me, Nate.”

Nate knelt to hold Deke’s head until one side was on the floor. Rafe ripped off a piece of duct tape and, starting at one side of the floor next to Deke’s head, wrapped it along his forehead to the other until he was taped to the floor and couldn’t move. “Hold his shoulders.”

Nate pressed down Deke’s upper body.

“Pete?” Rafe ordered. “Hang on to Deke’s legs while I explain what happens when any man hurts the woman I love.”

Rafe picked up the nail, and Deke whimpered.

“Fuck this,” Pete said. “That’s not the way we do things.”

“Not the way you do things.” Rafe ignored Nate’s shocked gaze and focused on Deke’s fearful one. “Let’s see your ear.”

Deke bucked.

“Dammit, Pete. Hold his legs.” Rafe placed the nail in Deke’s ear, held it steady, and swung the hammer, driving the nail into the floor. Muffled screams filled the room, and Rafe hit again. His stomach rebelled, but he kept his breathing steady.

Deke’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out. He’d never hurt Juliet again.

“Fuck. This.” Pete crawled away until his back hit the wall.

Rafe stood and held out a hand to help up Nate, who’d gone as pale as the moon.

Nate scrubbed his hands over his head. “What’ve you done?”

Oh brother, so much more than that. “Avenged my wife.”

Nate leaned over, hands on his thighs. His body heaved. Sweat stained his T-shirt.

Pete muttered, “We’re fucked.”

Rafe settled his hands on his hips and stared up at the stained ceiling. If they didn’t get their shit together, this mission was over before it started. “This isn’t the U.S. Army. This isn’t an A-team. We’re not a unit. We’re three men being bitch-slapped by fate, hunted by warriors we can’t see, and screwed by a situation we don’t understand. If we want to survive, we have to play the game to win. We have to play my way.”

Rafe pointed to the black monitor that used to show the alley but now hid a waiting Balthasar. “We play the game like Fianna warriors. No prisoners. No rules. No mercy.”

“What are you going to do to Balthasar?” Nate asked. “Kill him?”

“No.” That would escalate the situation and endanger Juliet even more. “I’ll assess things and meet you at the cathedral. Watch over Juliet until I get there.”

“We’re fucked,” Pete said again.

Nate wobbled.

Rafe gripped Nate’s shoulders. “We need to be strong. We need to work together. Despite our screwed-up past, trusting each other is the only way we succeed. Got it?”

Nate helped Pete up, and they both nodded.

“Good.” Rafe sighed. “If either of you have any influence with the Almighty, pray.”

“Are you joking?” Pete asked.

“No. We need any help we can get.”