Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel (16 page)

Olivia stared at Trev’s outstretched hand before leaning forward to shake it. “Private contractors,” she echoed dully. “Soldiers for hire?”

Trevor nodded, then gestured to the others. “Blondie over there is Sullivan, and the mean-looking one is D. And Luke you know, of course. Come on, sit down. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Moving as if she was in a daze, Olivia allowed Trevor to lead her to the couch, where she flopped down next to Sullivan. Luke bit back a burst of annoyance, but the fact that she’d accepted Trevor’s suggestion to sit without so much as a protest bugged him. Or maybe it was the way she’d relaxed at the sound of the other man’s voice.

When his chest got hot and tight, he realized he was actually jealous. The entire ride over here, Olivia had been tense as shit, her expression blank, her fists pressed into her knees. But now, a couple of words from Callaghan, and she calmed down. Then again, he’d seen it happen before. Trev might not lay it on thick the way Luke or Sully did when it came to females, but the man exuded a quiet strength that women went wild for.

Luke’s spine went rigid. Well, fuck that. For some reason, he felt possessive about this woman, and he didn’t want anyone but him reassuring her.

Striding toward the couch, he shot Sullivan a look that said,
Go sit somewhere else.
The Australian raised a brow but got up without a word.

Luke promptly claimed the seat. “Tell us exactly what went down today,” he told Olivia.

She shifted, angling herself so that she was facing him as well as the others. “Last night one of the dancers . . . Cora . . .” Pain flashed through her eyes. “She showed up at the club and pretty much freaked out at me. She implied that Vince had made her do something, something awful, but she stormed out before I could get any answers. So today . . . I went over to her loft to check on her, to see if she was okay . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head in distress.

“And you found her body.” Trevor filled in the rest of her sentence.

Olivia turned toward his voice, giving a small nod. “The paramedics said it was an overdose. Heroin. But Cora never used drugs . . . She hated them . . . She . . . God, it didn’t make any sense. But then Vince came by to comfort me—”

That stupid streak of jealousy reappeared. Damn it, he didn’t like the idea of her with Angelo. Ever since he’d seen her dance that first time, he’d started to think of Olivia Taylor as
his
. Total caveman bullshit right there, but he couldn’t help it. And he didn’t like it.

When he realized Olivia was still talking, he forced his head back into the game. “He said it was taken care of, and something about Cora not being into it, and—”

Trevor interrupted by holding up his hand. “Let’s slow down. Tell us his exact words, as much as you can remember.”

She released a shaky breath. “He was telling someone that
it
—I’m assuming he meant Cora’s death—was taken care of, and that it wouldn’t be tied back to the club.” She paused in thought. “He said they didn’t have a choice because Cora was going to the cops, and then he mentioned a name . . . De something . . . De Luca.”

Luke exchanged a quick glance with the others, who were all frowning.

“You sure it was De Luca?” Trevor spoke up.

“Yeah, that was definitely it. Vince said that he didn’t care what De Luca thought about it because De Luca’s the one”—her voice cracked—“who asks Vince to send him girls. So that . . . so that his associates can . . . have sex with them.”

She fell silent, torment etched into her features.

“Anything else?” D barked. His tone was far from gentle. Or understanding.

Olivia flinched at the harsh demand. “Ah, something about a shipment. He said there was a lot of money riding on it, and he told the person on the other end to worry about the shipment, and said that he would worry about his . . . his bitches.”

Now her face was overcome with shame. Was that how she viewed herself? As another one of Angelo’s bitches? For some messed-up reason, Luke felt the impulse to yank her into his arms and stroke her hair or some shit, but he rooted himself to the couch.

“So . . . what do I do now?”

Her voice sounded so small and forlorn that Luke’s heart squeezed. Fuck it. Without looking at the others, he took Olivia’s hand and gripped it tightly. “Now you tell us how you got tangled up with Angelo in the first place.” He hesitated. “Angelo killed the customer who attacked you, didn’t he?”

Her mouth fell open. “What? No.
I
did.”

Chapter 9

Luke’s eyebrows shot up as Olivia’s confession hung in the air. “
You
killed him?”

She nodded, looking more than a little stricken.

As surprise continued to ripple through him, he exchanged a look with Trevor, who looked equally startled. So much for their theory about Angelo murdering a man for Olivia.

“Do you want to tell us what happened that night?” he asked, injecting some gentleness in his voice.

After a second of reluctance, Olivia released a ragged breath. “I was leaving the club after my shift. It was late, and one of the bouncers offered to walk me to my car, but I foolishly said no. There weren’t any PCs that night—”

“PCs?” Trevor cut in, wrinkling his brow.

“Problem customers,” she clarified. “It was a pretty tame night, and I thought I’d be fine. I had my whistle on me—every dancer at the Diamond has one. The girls call it a rape whistle. But it didn’t do a lick of good when I got jumped from behind. I dropped the whistle, and the next thing I knew, this man was dragging me into the alley next to the club.”

Luke’s gut flooded with anger. “Did you know the guy?”

She gave a quick nod. “I recognized him from the club. He would come in a few times a week, but he never caused any problems or raised any red flags.”

From his spot by the door, D spoke up in a bored voice. “What happened in the alley?”

Olivia’s voice wavered. “He had a knife, and he . . . tried to rape me. I was struggling, fighting back, but that only made him angrier, so eventually I quit fighting and pretended to surrender. That made him happy.” Her lips tightened. “He said as a reward for my submission, he’d be gentle.”

Luke resisted the urge to slam his fist through the wall.

“So I waited for him to”—she looked uncomfortable—“unzip his pants, and while he was, um, you know, pulling it out, I made a grab for the knife. I only managed to nick him before he batted the knife out of my hand, and that just infuriated him even more. He . . . beat me. Pretty fucking badly. I don’t know how I was able to stay conscious, but I did, and while he was pounding at me with his fists, I got hold of the knife again.” Now her voice steadied, growing hard. “I stabbed him. In the throat.”

Silence crashed over the room.

Well, damn. Pride welled up in Luke’s chest, along with a sick sense of satisfaction that the man who’d tried to hurt Olivia had paid for it. Dearly.

As he glanced at the others, he noticed that Trevor and Sullivan looked as gratified as he felt and were nodding their approval. Hell, even D looked impressed.

“What happened afterward?” Luke asked.

She hesitated, but when he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, her posture relaxed, her mouth opened, and a whole lot of details came spilling out.

She told them about how Angelo and his guards had come to her rescue, how they’d dumped the body of the man she’d killed, took care of the cops while she was in the hospital. By the time she finished explaining how she’d ended up in Angelo’s clutches, Luke was ready to clock something. Sully and Trevor didn’t look pleased either, donning matching scowls when Olivia described waking up at St. Francis two days after the attack to find Angelo at her bedside. Telling her he owned her now.

Owned her. Like she was a piece of prime real estate, or another one of his expensive suits. Classic case of abuse, right down to the characteristics she described. Angelo’s control, his sick sense of entitlement, the superiority complex and possessiveness.

“Did he ever hit you?” Sullivan asked carefully.

She started to shake her head, but then a resigned light entered her eyes. “Once when I insisted I could pay my own tuition, and another time because I made him look bad in front of a customer by refusing to do a private dance.”

Outrage bubbled in Luke’s gut, congealing into hard knots. The thought of Vince Angelo laying a hand on this woman made him want to grab that Glock from the coffee table and empty a clip into Angelo’s chest. Violence against women had always made him see red, ever since his sister, Ellen, had wound up in an abusive relationship that lasted for years. But Ellen had gotten out of that hellhole with the help of her family. Olivia was still living in hers.

“Why didn’t you skip town?”

D’s cold inquiry hung in the air, bringing another flicker of sorrow to Olivia’s eyes.

“My mom was sick,” she said softly. “I couldn’t leave her, and she was in no condition to be uprooted. Money is an issue too. I can barely afford two train tickets, let alone a new apartment, Mom’s medication . . .” She swallowed hard. “I thought we’d have a better chance at starting fresh if I got my degree. That way I could land a higher-paying job. And I’ve been saving money the past six months . . .” She trailed off.

Luke didn’t like the defeated look on her face. Leaning closer, he searched her eyes and asked, “Do you want this son of a bitch out of your life?”

She nodded.

“Then he’ll be out of your life. We’ll make sure of it.” Probably presumptuous, throwing the
we
in there, but he’d seen Trevor’s and Sully’s expressions during Olivia’s story, and knew they’d be on board. As for D, well—

“And you’ll return the favor,” came D’s raspy voice, which only confirmed Luke’s thoughts. D wouldn’t do a damn thing without getting something back from Olivia.

She looked over at D. “What does that mean?”

Trevor quickly took control of the conversation before D could respond with some tactless comment. “Here’s the thing, Olivia,” he said gently. “We need your help too.”

She shifted warily. “To do what?”

“We were hired to find someone. An undercover agent who went missing two months ago. Sully, grab me that pic of Dane.”

Sullivan headed for the kitchen counter and rummaged around in the file folder sitting on it. He extracted a photograph, then walked over to hand Olivia the photo.

Luke instantly saw the recognition dawn in her eyes. “You know him?” he said sharply.

“That’s Kyle. Kyle . . . I can’t remember his last name, it started with a B, I think.” She stared at Carter Dane’s average features and short black hair. “He came to the club a lot, usually hung out in Vince’s office or the VIP lounge. Vince said Kyle was a business associate.”

“He’s DEA,” Trevor revealed. “When was the last time you saw him?”

She mulled it over. “I guess . . . it’s been a while actually. He could have showed up on my days off or when I was in the dressing room, but it’s definitely been a couple of months since I saw him.” Her gaze landed on the photo again, and her sensual mouth twisted in a frown. “You want me to help you find him.”

“Yes,” Luke said simply.

The frown deepened, almost a scowl now. Her shoulders stiffened, then sagged. “Of course you do. Nothing comes free, does it?”

She spoke in a flat tone, as if she truly believed that people weren’t capable of helping each other out of the goodness of their hearts. He supposed he didn’t blame her. Vince Angelo hadn’t helped her out of kindness—he’d done it so she’d be indebted to him. And those doctors who’d treated her mother’s cancer, maybe they’d been genuinely happy to do it, but at the end of those treatments there’d still been a price tag.

Everything about Olivia’s body language communicated weariness, from the way she hung her head as if her neck could no longer support it to the way she unclasped her hands and let them fall to her sides. But then she surprised him. Rather than tell them to go to hell, she lifted her head and focused on Trevor. “What do I have to do?”

Luke answered for the team leader. “Dig. Use your connection to Angelo.”

“Get into his office and snoop around,” Trevor added. “See if you can find anything relating to Carter Dane—a location, a lead, anything that might help us find him.”

“There are cameras in Vince’s office,” Olivia pointed out.

“If you can get in, they’ll be taken care of,” Luke answered.

Her eyebrows lifted in challenge. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you go in yourself?”

“Because if it all goes south, it’ll be hard to explain away my presence. Or it could turn into a gunfight or something equally unproductive. The last thing we want to do is alert Angelo that he’s being watched. We’ll come up with a reasonable explanation that you can use if you’re ever caught upstairs.”

When she nodded in resignation, he reached for her hand, and found her fingers cold and shaky. “We won’t risk putting a wire on you, but we’ll get you a secure phone,” he assured her. “You’ll stay in contact with us, and anytime you’re in the club, we’ll be right outside, ready to storm the place if you say the word.”

He moved his thumb in a soothing motion around the center of her palm. “You won’t be alone, darlin’. And if you do this, you’ll be helping us put Angelo out of commission once and for all. He’ll never hurt you or any of the other girls again.”

That got her attention. The steel that entered her gorgeous green eyes brought another spark of pride. He remembered her saying how she wasn’t half as strong as her mother, but clearly that was bullshit. Olivia Taylor might not be battling cancer, but she’d been living in her own personal hell for a long time now, suffering right along with her mom. Even now, with that son of a bitch Angelo and his obsession to contend with, she was still holding her ground, refusing to be knocked down.

Damned if that wasn’t sexy.

“When’s your next shift?” Trevor asked.

“Tomorrow night. Oh, and Vince won’t be there. He meets his investors every Fri—” She stopped, bitterness washing over her face. “Well, the investors thing is probably a lie. I don’t know who he meets, but I do know he won’t be there tomorrow.”