Неизвестный - 6. Justice For All

Sandy checked her makeup in the bathroom mirror. The bruise along her jaw was still visible, but that wasn’t anything unusual for girls in her line of work. Her lip was puffy, but it didn’t hurt anymore. She cupped her breasts and jiggled them a little inside the tight white lycra top to get as much bang out of her minimal cleavage as she could. Then she shimmied into her miniskirt and pulled on knee-high white vinyl boots with three-inch heels.

“You look like such a whore,” she said to her reflection, laughing as she gelled her hair into short blond spikes. For the first time in her life she felt like she was wearing a costume and not her work clothes.

“Do you have any underwear on?” Mitch said from the doorway.

She spun around and looked him over. He wasn’t dressed in his usual T-shirt and jeans tonight, but a tight-fitting black shirt with the top two buttons open, black pants that hugged his thighs and stretched across the bulge in his crotch, a slick black leather belt with a small square silver buckle, and black shoes.

“Jesus, you look like a player.” She stared pointedly at his crotch.

“Are you wearing any underwear?”

“I asked you first.”

Sandy thought about teasing him a little, but she knew he was still pissed off and they had serious work to do. “Yes. A thong. And no one is going to get close enough to find out. What about you?”

“You can see for yourself later. How do your ribs feel?”

“Baby,” Sandy said, “I wouldn’t have volunteered if I wasn’t ready.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed his ear. “Don’t be mad.”

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Mitch held her stiffly, his hands on her waist. “I know you don’t answer to anyone but the lieutenant, but I still wish you’d said something to me first.”

“You know what? You’re right. I should have.” She skimmed his mouth with hers. “I wasn’t even sure she’d go for it. But I still should have told you what I was thinking first.”

Mitch let out a sigh and rested his forehead against hers. “I know it makes the most sense for you to go with Jasmine tonight. They know you at Ziggie’s. I’m just worried.”

“I know. But we’re only going to be watching who’s coming in and out. And keeping an eye on you and Irina.”

“You haven’t seen us together before, San.”

Sandy gripped his shoulders and leaned back, pressing her pelvis into his. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against her stomach. She liked the way it felt. She imagined that Irina did too, and even if she didn’t, she’d have to play like she did. “These guys are killers, Mitch. You think I’m going to care if you have to feel her up or she grabs your dick to prove to these guys that the two of you are together?” She gave him a little bump with her hips. “I love you, and I know you love me. End of story.”

Mitch grinned. “Just the same, I’d appreciate it—if you notice any of the dick grabbing—if you’d look the other way.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t enjoy watching?”

“Ha ha.”

“Okay. Maybe that’s pushing it. Come on.” Sandy took his hand.

“The lieutenant wants to brief us, right?”

Mitch held her back. “Just trust me to do my job, okay? I know you know what you’re doing, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sandy stroked his cheek. “Right back at you, rookie.”

v

“Are you ready?” Mitch asked Irina as he opened the back door of Ziggie’s.

“Yes,” Irina said. “I’m tired of belonging to them.”

The hallway was dimly lit by a few low-wattage bulbs, and clouds of cigarette smoke swirled indolently in the air. The atmosphere was

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close and hot, smelling faintly of urine and liquor and sex. As they neared the end of the tunnel-like passageway, the ever-present bump and grind music grew louder. Two girls performed onstage, hip-thrusting and pole-humping in a weary parody of ecstasy. Even at midweek, the swivel stools at the bar were half full and most of the booths were occupied. Sex for sale never went out of style.

“Have a good vacation?” the bartender asked snidely, eyeing Irina as he swiped a dirty rag over the surface of the bar.

“Vodka shot and a beer,” Irina said, ignoring his remark.

“Olik’s looking for you,” he said, making no move to get the drinks.

Mitch straddled a stool with his back to the bartender and Irina snuggled in between his legs, leaning against the front of his body with her arms loosely draped around his waist. Her expression was bored.

“I am here now.” She raised a brow. “Are you on vacation?”

He snorted and went off to get their drinks.

Irina ran her fingers through Mitch’s hair and scanned the bar. She wore a wraparound emerald green blouse that left a generous expanse of her full breasts bare and a tight black skirt that came to mid-thigh.

With her heels she was almost as tall as Mitch.

Mitch kissed her neck and murmured, “Any sign of our friends?”

She arched her back and thrust her breasts against his chest, exposing more of her neck to his mouth. “Two men, Olik’s men…

bodyguards, at the end of the bar. He must be here somewhere.”

“What about the muscle we ran into the last time we were here?”

“I don’t see him.”

Mitch traced his tongue down the center of her throat. “Too bad.”

Irina laughed and tugged his head back with her fist in his hair.

“You are bad, new boy.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” Her eyes suddenly softened and the fingers in his hair slid down to caress his neck, catching Mitch off guard. Then her haughty expression returned. “Good boys bore me.”

The bartender delivered their drinks. Irina handed the beer to Mitch, then picked up the shot of vodka and tossed it back.

Mitch checked out the rest of the room as he sipped the beer.

Jasmine and Sandy sat at a small round table not far from the stage. He

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started in surprise when he noticed Phil with them. That hadn’t been part of the plan, and he wondered if the King had arrived by himself.

Looking for Irina, maybe. Sandy laughed at something Phil said and slid her chair closer to him, draping her arm around his neck. Phil grabbed her and pulled her into his lap. Sandy didn’t even glance in Mitch’s direction.

“So this is your new bodyguard,” a deep male voice said from Mitch’s right.

Mitch automatically shifted Irina in his arms, moving her away from the stranger who had walked up next to them. The man looked to be about forty, with broad shoulders and an irregular scar bisecting his left cheek that marred an otherwise coldly handsome face. His suit was expensive looking, and the watch on his left wrist appeared to be a Rolex. The tailored jacket nearly hid the weapon holstered on his right hip. He was not a street-level enforcer. Mitch smiled inwardly in satisfaction. Finally.

“Mitch takes good care of me,” Irina said suggestively, rubbing his chest with her fingertips.

The man who must be Olik looked Mitch up and down, his gaze lingering between Mitch’s legs. Then in a move so fast Mitch didn’t have time to react, he shot his hand out and gripped Mitch’s cock.

Mitch sucked in a breath as pain bored into his pelvis from the pressure.

He summoned all his willpower and said casually, “I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your men, so I suggest you let go.”

Olik started to laugh but stopped abruptly when Mitch flicked his right hand and a switchblade dropped into his palm. Mitch thrust his arm forward until the point of the six-inch blade was a millimeter from Olik’s crotch. “Then again, I don’t really care if you lose face. Or…