Hideaway Page 9

“I do.” A young blonde approached, and I turned my gaze on her. She wore a white silk robe just long enough to cover her ass as she leaned over to set another drink in front of Gabriel. “And I’m for sale,” she teased.

I cast my gaze back at Gabriel, trying to ignore the interruption. It was neither unusual to see women dressed like that in this house, nor was her flirtation out of the ordinary. Entertainment was always within reach here. Even when Damon’s mother had lived here.

I dropped my eyes, feeling adrenaline flood my veins at the memory of her. I didn’t like her any more than her husband.

The young woman moved to walk away, but Gabriel pulled her back and into his lap.

“You know what your problem is?” he asked me as he snaked a hand around her and squeezed her breast through her robe. “Why, out of the three of you, you were the one I hated hanging around my son in high school?”

I remained silent.

“Your loyalty has a limit,” Gabriel said, answering his own question. “I could always see that. Grayson and Crist, they would protect you even if they found a dead hooker in your bed and blood on your hands. No questions. No hesitation. And so would Damon.” He nodded at me. “But I don’t think you’d do the same for them.”

His arrogant eyes held mine as he slipped a hand inside her robe, absently fondling her breast.

I curled my hands into fists. But then I relaxed, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. He would never know how much I’d done for his son.

“Even your love for your friends,” he continued, “could never overshadow your sense of right and wrong, right?”

“I went to prison for assaulting a police officer. For a friend,” I reminded him.

“No. For assaulting a man you believed deserved it for abusing his sister,” he argued. “Even as a criminal, you’re noble.”

He then turned his eyes on the girl. “You see, honey,” he told her, pulling his hand out of her robe and brushing her hair behind her ear. “Kai Mori is a self-righteous little fucker, and I want you to go over there and suck him dry right now.”

Anger instantly heated my body. The girl locked eyes with me, cocking her head playfully, and then she walked around the table toward me.

That motherfucker. He knew how to work people, didn’t he? If I left now, the conversation was over. No deal. Which is probably exactly what he had in mind. He might want Damon back, but he didn’t want to deal with me. He expected me to jump ship and run.

Now if I let the girl blow me, that would surprise him, wouldn’t it?

She stopped in front of me, and I held her eyes as she knelt down, her merlot-colored finger nails slowly scaling up my thighs. She grasped my belt, and I grabbed her hands, shoving her off.

No.

Gabriel wasn’t pushing me down the gutter with him.

I rose, straightening my belt and smoothing my hand down my jacket.

“Always predictable.” Gabriel laughed.

The girl looked to him, probably scared she’d done something wrong, and he jerked his chin at her, speaking Russian. She immediately stood and headed back into the house.

“You should try her, though,” he told me, picking up his drink. “A throat a mile deep on that one.”

“Everything okay?”

I jerked my head, seeing Michael and Will standing in the doorway to the house, watching us. I let out a breath, not realizing I’d been holding it. I wasn’t sure if they’d seen what had just happened, but I didn’t really care.

“Hanson,” Gabriel called his man over, setting his drink back down and putting his arm around the waist of a brunette who had come up. “Take these gentlemen into the dining room.” He glanced at the three of us. “My assistant will meet you in there to discuss terms and The Pope. I’ll be in touch.”

And off he went, taking the young woman with him into the house.

The flat expression that I’d been forcing faltered, and I glared at his back as he left.

Damon’s father was nearly identical to Michael’s in personality. I hated them both. And I completely understood why my father rarely spoke to either of them at parties or sporting events growing up. It was the one area where Katsu Mori and I agreed.

“Gentlemen.” Hanson stepped forward, holding out his arm and gesturing for us to follow him into the house.

Michael pinched his eyebrows together, questioning me with his eyes, but I shook my head, following the servant.

The dogs. The girl. The crowd of people he didn’t give a shit about seeing his filthy deeds. He wanted me to know he was stronger.

But I was going to be smarter.

Hanson led us back through the house, hands locked behind his back until we came to a set of double doors, and he opened them, inviting us into a dining room. He stopped and turned, letting us enter.

“Please, sit wherever you like,” he instructed. “Refreshments will be served shortly.”

He backed out of the room, closing the black double doors, and as soon as I heard the gold knobs click shut, I released a breath and closed my eyes.

“What happened?” Michael asked, sounding concerned.

I just shook my head, turning away and staring off out the windows to the terrace we’d just left. “I almost forgot,” I mumbled to myself. “I almost forgot there was a reason Damon was so fucked up.”

I kicked the leg of a chair, seething. Goddamn him. He called me a fucking criminal. “Even as a criminal, you’re noble,” Gabriel had said. He could go fuck himself. His cruelty, his diabolical nature, his pleasure in others’ pain…every inch of that guy was filth. I wasn’t the criminal. I was nothing like him.

Michael stepped up. “What’s going on?”

I gripped the back of a chair, seeing Will standing on the other side of the table. “I don’t know yet,” I said through clenched teeth.

“Why did he mention The Pope?”

“It’s—” But I stopped as Hanson opened the door again.

A young woman, this one fully clothed with her hair stuffed up into a newsboy cap, wheeled in a cart with water glasses and a tray of some kind of pastry.

I pulled out a chair, and Michael and Will followed my lead as she got to work getting the refreshments ready. Hanson said something in Russian to her and backed out of the room, drawing the doors closed again.

“It’s across from the dojo,” I told Michael. “I thought we’d check it out for Graymor Cristane.”

“We didn’t talk about that,” he griped. “Where the hell is this coming from? I thought we came here to see if Gabriel knew where Damon was.”

I shot him a leveled look across the table, trying to tell him with my eyes that this wasn’t the best place to talk. Michael knew me well enough by now to know I didn’t make fast decisions. I had a plan.

“I don’t think he knows where he is,” I told Michael as I relaxed into the chair. “Why not put the past behind us and make a deal? The hotel is still in great condition. We could make something out of it.”

“What?” Michael looked at me like I had three heads.

I almost laughed.

I made a show of glancing to my right where the girl was working, and then said with a smile in my eyes, caging, “Did you know The Pope is a Torrance property?” I rounded my eyes on Michael, hoping the knucklehead knew how to pick up a hint. “It’s been abandoned all this time. But it must be pretty nice inside, because all the entrances are fortified with an alarm system, cameras cover every door and corner surrounding the hotel, and there’s even a security guard that still cruises past the hotel at the top of every hour and does a walk around the perimeter every four hours. I noticed that from the dojo.”

Michael studied me, the wheels in his head turning, while Will still looked confused.

Come on, Michael. Figure it out.

And finally I saw the light go on in his eyes, realization hitting. “Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “Right.”

I smiled to myself, glad he finally understood.

Why all the security for a place not being used? Why not just lock and board up the doors? Or tear it down and sell it off? Why was it sealed up and guarded like a prison?

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