SHANK (A Wilde Crime Series) (13 page)

“When can we expect delivery?”
I asked, my tone harsh enough to guarantee a response. I wasn’t here to fuck around. Pedro might be able to dismiss Mickey, but not me. Not tonight. He would either cough up the guns or his spleen. The option was his.

“A couple of hours. Stay, relax. H
ave a drink.” Pedro smirked, gesturing to a group of hookers at the bar. They sashayed to us, smiling sweetly. Andy grinned and Mickey shook his head.

I ignored the beauties
, focusing on Pedro and our cash in his fist. “You have one hour.” He nodded and stepped from the table. The girls moved in, each more beautiful than the next. Drew gestured to the finest of the three. She shook her head, no. His face hardened, but the woman stayed where she was. I smiled, enjoying the by-play. But then a slim hipped, woman-child whispered in Drew’s ear, and he shrugged and took her hand.

The second woman, a dark skinned Latina, smiled at Andy. “Buy me a drink?”
He gestured for another round, and the woman sat down at the table next to him. Mickey shook his head as the third woman stepped between us. “I’m going to find a phone and give Beth a call.” Pussy-whipped, I mouthed. He shot me a dirty look, and rose to his feet. With a grin, he tossed me a rubber. “Use it.” Like I needed to be told.

My gaze raked over the woman in front of me. Stunning.
She had long black hair and coffee colored skin. Her attire suggested hard-times. A small run in her black stockings. A tear in her silken top. But the arrogance in the tilt of her head put me in my place. This was no hooker to be pitied. She was the sort of woman a man would remember for the rest of his life.

“
Want to dance?” she asked in a British accent. Her gleaming white teeth tempted me like Eve holding out an apple. A hundred fantasies flew through my head as she tugged at her lower lip with those strong white teeth.

“I’m not much of a
dancer.” I tried to contain my smile. “How about a drink?”

“Fine.” She sat next to me
, so close I could smell the Jasmine perfume on her skin. “Here for business or pleasure?”

“Both,
I hope.” I looked her over. She was just what I need, a convenient, no-strings distraction. A perfect means to get laid and forget about Frankie.

“What’s your name?”
She touched my cheek with a long manicured nail.

“Ian. Yours?”

“Melinda.”

“What is it you do
, Ian?”

“F
inancial planner.”

She scoffed
and then sobered at my raised eyebrow. “I see.”

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a rundown bar in the middle of a shanty town?”
I tried for Bogart, but it wasn’t to be.

“
Seeking some portfolio management?” Her eyes lit up and she moved closer. “Care to review my stock options?”

I grinned,
leaning back to take a long sip of my lukewarm beer. “That’s quite an offer.”

“Only available for a limited time too.”
Her eyebrows wiggled.

I laughed. “Why don’t I take a look
? Who knows, you might make a buck or two.” She wasn’t a redhead, but morals would not be a problem.

******

I stumbled through the front door of the bungalow I shared with Frankie at five in the morning. I tried not to make any noise, but my knee caught the edge of the coffee table. The resounding bang echoed throughout the room. “Shit.”

T
he bedroom light snapped on. “Ian? Are you all right?”

“Sorry.
” I straightened, swaying slightly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
She stood in the bedroom doorway, her nightshirt translucent in the light, hugging her every curve. I closed my eyes and groaned. My body tightened, and my alcohol-fueled blood slipped south. Fucking idiot. Why the hell did I walk away from a half-naked Melinda?

Melinda
had led me from the bar ten minutes after we met. My thoughts were divided between Pedro’s guns and Melinda’s breasts. She took me to a small room half a block up, in what was known as the seedy part of town. Her place wasn’t so bad, it had running water and small stove. She’d done her best to turn it into a home, adding the little touches that women love. A stupid figurine here and an ugly knickknack there.

I sat on
Melinda’s freshly made bed, and watched her tug barrettes from her black hair. It fell down her back in waves. I pulled at a tress and thought of Frankie. What the fuck was wrong with me? Melinda crawled on the bed, brushing her lips against my neck as she gently pushed me down on the bed. She brought her mouth to mine. Those full lips drew me in. Her tongue warred with mine and her teeth dug into my lower lip. She gave a low moan. Faked or not, it still sent blood pooling low in my groin. My hands slid across her breast, unsnapping the buttons of her blouse. She stroked my thigh, her fingers urgent with demand.

Once I freed her breasts from the confines of her bra, I explored
her dark nipples with the pad of my thumb. My mouth trailed along the curve of her neck and my hand twisted in her thick hair. I pulled her head back, staring into her blue-black eyes. I wasn’t just another john, my eyes warned. She accepted that with a small nod.

I shifted positions, taking complete and total control.
Moaning lower in her throat, she tugged at the button of my jeans. Just as things got interesting my phone rang. Fuck. Business came first. I pulled away, breathing heavy. I dug in my pocket for the phone. “What?” I snapped.

“Pedro’s
back with the merchandise,” Mickey said.

Fuck.
I slipped Melinda a hundred dollars and gave her a long drawn out kiss before I walked out the door. Stupid.

“Ian?” Frankie’s soft voice brought me back to the present.

“Go to bed,” I whispered, erasing the feel of Melinda’s hands on my body. On edge and more than a little drunk, I couldn’t handle our harmless flirtation right now. I needed sex and a lot of it before I could face another round.

“Is something wrong?
” She rushed to me. “You sound like you’re in pain?”

I stepped back,
tripping over the dammed coffee table. Tomorrow it would be kindling, I vowed. I stared up at the ceiling, trying to picture Frankie before the black lace panties. Nothing came to mind. She rushed over, a bubble of laughter bursting from her mouth. “Are you drunk?”

“No…
” I blinked, the room swayed. “Maybe a little.”

She helped me to my feet
, tugging at the loops of my jeans. The sensation of her hands on my waist didn’t help matters. “Let’s get you to bed.”

My
thoughts went south. Dirty, nasty, naked thoughts. I’m going to hell, or maybe I was already there. “I think I’ll crash on the couch.”

“The be
d’s plenty big.” Her hands went to her hips.
              “No. Definitely the couch.” I laid down and kicked off my shoes. The room spun, as did my stomach. I hated rum.

“Suit yourself.”
She pulled a blanket from the edge and covered me with it. The wool itched my bare feet. She crouched next to me. “How did it go at the bar? Did you get what we need?”

“
Not everything.” I shook my head and thought of Melinda’s sculpted body.

“
I’m sure we’ll make do.”

“Speak for yourself.
”

“What’d you say?”
She leaned over me. Her hand brushed my arm, and I jolted up, narrowly missing her chin with my head. She leapt back. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Sorry. L
ong night.” I swallowed a groan. The fresh scent of her skin tickled my nostrils. Why couldn’t she smell like vanilla? Vanilla gave me a rash. “Go to bed…please.”

“Okay.” She headed back to the bedroom and turned off the light. “Goodnight.”

I let out a long sigh. Dumbass, I cursed myself again and settled back on the couch. It was going to be a long fucking night.

I drifted somewhere between comatose and passed out until a pounding at the door woke me. I blinked, eyes adjusting to the early morning light. My head ached and my body was stiff from couch surfing. The joy of out drinking an arms dealer.

“I got it.
” Frankie headed for the door.

“Mor
ning sis.” Mickey kissed her on the cheek as he entered. He grinned at me. “I see you’re no worse for wear.”

“What do you mean?” Frankie’s eyes dropped to my bloodshot ones.

Mickey laughed, a sound that grated on my nerves like sandpaper. “Ian had a bit of a rough night. Pedro, the gun guy, had something to prove. He and Ian traded shots before the deal finally came together. After that, Pedro provided some local talent, and things went from bad to worse.”

I considered putting a bullet in
Mickey’s kneecap to shut him up. Frankie’s glare was enough to wilt a lesser man. “And to think I felt sorry for you,” she said as she stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door with a perverse pleasure.

“Where’s everyone?”
I sighed, and glanced at Mickey.

“Andy’s
working the bank, Neil’s at breakfast, and Drew’s out cold.” He shook his head. “No surprise there.”

“Let me grab a shower and we’ll head out.” Recognizance was o
n the agenda for this morning. The more information we had the better. Knowing where all the exits where had saved my life more than once. “Why don’t you order up some room service? Coffee—strong and black.”

“Coming right up.
” Mickey reached for the house phone.

I headed to the bathroom
, stretching my aching muscles. I stripped and turned on the water. As I stepped into the shower the bathroom door opened. Frankie stood in the doorway, a cloud of steam causing the ends of her bleached hair to curl.

I
quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my hips. “Don’t you knock?”

She snorted.
“I would but after last night I figure you don’t have any shame.”

“Look at that,
” I grinned and dropped the towel, “you’re right.” A flush of red stain her cheeks. She grabbed her makeup bag from the counter and left. I chuckled and stepped into the scolding water. “Fuck,” I yelled as the water beat down on my aching head.

Ten minutes later, I was feeling much more human.
Still hung over but functioning. I ate three pieces of toast, two runny eggs, and four slices of bacon. A light breakfast to get me through the day. “Mickey and I are going to case the bank.” I turned to Frankie, who watched disgusted as I dipped a butter soaked piece of toast in the runny egg yolk. “We’ll be back in an hour or so, and then it’s show time.”

“Good.
” She paused to take a sip of coffee. “Neil should be here soon to fix my hair and makeup. I should be ready by then.” She grinned at my perplexed look. Running a hand over the curve of her hip, she added, “Looking this good takes time.”

“
I can see that.” I stuffed the last bit of toast into my mouth and nodded to Mickey. “Let’s hit it.”

“Bye, sis.” Mickey kissed her cheek, and we left the bungalow.

******

“Okay, there are three exits.” Mickey consulted his hand drawn map. “The main door, a fire exit on the west side, and a back entrance for employees.”

I nodded. “What e
lse?” Relying on second hand information, even from my best friend gave me hives. I was a control freak, but it kept me alive.

“There’s t
wenty-three employees including two armed and one plainclothes guard.”

“Where’s the bank manager’s office?”

“Twenty feet north east of the back exit. The exit door has a keypad lock, and unless Andy can come up with the code, it is not the best option for a quick exit.” Mickey pointed to the exit on the map.

“Good to know.” I took a sip of lukewarm coffee.
Sitting in my rented Jeep, we’d watched bank customers and employees go in and out for the last hour. Nothing seemed out of place, but that didn’t stop my gut from tingling. A lot was at stake. “Okay. Let’s pick up Frankie and get to work. By midnight we should be rich men.”

Mickey nodded, putting a hand on my arm.
“I know this goes without saying, but watch out for her.”

If
he only knew what I’d been thinking lately he’d have shot me himself. “I won’t let anything happen to her. She’s like a sister to me,” sick bastard that I was, “and nobody fucks with my family.”

“Mrs. Clark, I’m sorry for your loss.” The slack-jawed banker held Frankie’s hand a little too tightly. Carlos Espinosa appeared like any other successful, corporate drone. He wore wing-tipped shoes and thousand dollar cuff links. I disliked him on principle. Resentment quickly turned to hate when his arm ‘accidentally’ brushed Frankie’s breast.

Frankie
, a true pro, fell into her role. She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a lace handkerchief. “Thank you, Mr. Espinosa.” She pulled her hand from his grasp, wiping it on her pink Ann Taylor suit.