Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1) (25 page)

Max

“Max, it’s me, Lady Luck. You said to call if I ever needed you. I need you now in the worst kind of way.”

For the last half hour, ever since a brief visit from Jack in which he told me to stay put until he had a chance to confer with Agent Turner, I’ve been hovering by my window, watching the crime scene unfolding in the parking lot.

“Where are you?” I ask, reaching for the car keys on my nightstand. I’m standing at the window with my cell phone pressed to my ear, scowling at the panic I hear in her voice. Women like Lady don’t panic unless something is gravely wrong.

“I’m in the alley behind the peep show on Second and Market. I tried calling Jack but he’s not answering. Please hurry,” she whispers urgently. I’m not about to waste time asking questions.

“I’m on my way,” I say as she abruptly ends the call. I slam the door behind me and sprint across the parking lot to my car. I jump into my car and ease around the CSI van and all the cops who’ve now congregated at the gate to gaze in horrified wonder at the head grimacing grotesquely down at them from the Urban Elite security gate. I lay on the horn to get them out of my way so I can get to Lady Luck.

“Hold up, Max,” Jack says as he approaches my car with his hand raised. “Nobody in or out until the crime scene wraps, Turner’s orders.”

As my boss and Agent Turner had strolled around the staked severed head over the last hour, checking it out from every possible angle as they discussed God knows what, I hadn’t left my room for fear I’d puke. Given recent history, it’s a concern.

Up close and personal, the sight is more horrific than I had imagined. I’m unable to tear my eyes away as the medical examiner, standing on a tall ladder, jerks the head back and forth several times, cursing audibly several times before the stubborn flesh gives way and the head pulls free.

The street cop holding the ladder steady from the ground leans over and heaves, the contents of his stomach making a wet, lumpy mess at the bottom of the ladder. As the M.E. makes his way down the ladder with the head under his arm, someone throws a tarp on the ground just in time to save him from stepping in the cop’s breakfast. I shake my head, marveling at the surreal scene, as I make my case to Jack.

“Jack, I’ve gotta go. Lady Luck is in trouble and I’m going to get her. Tell these assholes to get out of the way.”

“What the fuck? Why the hell didn’t she call me?” he asks indignantly. I know he’s always been protective of Lady and looks out for her on the streets, but I don’t have time to chat.

“She did. You didn’t pick up. Listen, she’s hiding in an alley and I have no idea who she’s hiding from. You gotta get these guys outta my way – now!”

Jack pauses and inhales harshly before stepping back and waving the crime team aside. As he enters the code for the gate, he continues talking to me over his shoulder, “Goddamn it! Left my phone on my desk after Turner and Murphy got here. Sonofabitch! You talked to her directly? Is she okay? Do you need backup?”

“Yes, don’t know, and whatever – Just let me out of here, Jack!” I yell, my voice shrill.

He steps aside reluctantly, telling me to call him if the situation is anything more than a john with an attitude. As I pull through the gate, I look in the rearview mirror. Spider is standing in the doorway of the main office, a thunderous expression on his face. The fact that he has bed head and no shirt on, revealing his tatted, insanely muscled chest, is distracting, but that isn’t what causes my breath to hitch; it’s the way he’s looking at me, possessively, like I’m on his radar and he plans on keeping me there.

I gun my engine and escape as soon as the gate is open and I’m clear. Judging by the look on Spider’s face I wouldn’t be shocked if jumps on his Harley and follows me. The last thing I have time for is Spider’s antics.

As I hang a hard right out of the parking lot, I glimpse an irate Agent Turner striding belligerently up to Jack, his arms waving wildly. As much as I hate to get Jack in hot water with the feds, I also know that Lady Luck wouldn’t raise the alarm unless shit was serious. I silently wish Jack luck as I hit the gas.

One of the great things about the compound being located downtown is we’re never far from the action. It only takes me a few minutes to reach the intersection Lady Luck gave me. When I pull up, Lady emerges from the alley with an overnight bag. She throws it into the back of the car and slides onto the front seat. I’m pulling away from the curb before she pulls the door closed with a jarringly loud thud.

Crouched down in the front seat, she breathes a sigh of relief as we make our getaway. She’s clearly terrified, I’ve never seen her like this. She’s usually so calm and cool.

“Lady, what the fuck is going on?”

“Girl, he almost killed me last night. That crazy ass white man didn’t want no pussy. The fucker tried to slit my throat.”

“Who…?” My heart races when I realize she’s trying to tell me she thinks it was
him
…The Riddler. I listen as she fills me in.

“I thought he was just another white boy trick, an easy bill, ya know? I figured I’d suck his dick, spit some spunk, and be a hundred dollars richer when I finished. As soon as he pulled into the alley and I told him to take his hoodie off – you know, I like to see what I’m dealing with – he went crazy. I didn’t think I was going to get away from him. He was cool until I touched that fucking hoodie. I’ve never seen anyone go off the deep end like that – and you know I’ve seen some crazy damn shit.”

“Lady,” I take my eyes off the road for a second. “Take the boss up on his offer and come work with the team. You’ll have free room and board, a job, and no worries. You can’t do this forever, you need a real job. Didn’t you tell me you used to be a professional photographer?”

“Yeah, I just wasn’t able to make a living doing it.”

“With your room and board paid, you can. You would be one hell of an asset to the group. Jack needs a crime scene photographer and I need some human interest pics for my blog. You can work with me. You shoot the pics and I’ll write the articles and we’ll have a kick ass crime blog—we can be a team.”

“Girl, I’m just glad to be alive, I can’t think any farther than the fact that I’m still breathing. Take me to Jack and give me some time to think about it. It would be great to do something that doesn’t make me feel like trash. Working these streets isn’t who I am, I’ve always known that. It was just the best I could do way back when. After a while, I just got numb, you know? Stopped thinking I could ever do anything else.”

She straightens and leans her head back, closing her eyes as she takes a ragged breath. Turning her head to look at me, she says, “I know what they say about cats, but, baby girl, I’m here to tell you -- pussy ain’t got but one life.”

I can’t help but laugh at her observation. Next thing I know, the two of us are laughing uncontrollably, both of us wiping tears as they roll down our cheeks.

As we pull up to the compound, we regain our composure and I try one more time to get her to take Jack up on his offer.

“You need to think fast, Lady. Next time you might not be so lucky. Please, just talk to Jack about it. I’d love working with you, and lord knows it would give me a break from the bodyguard Jack has watching me.”

“Bodyguard, mmm, sounds interesting.”

“Interesting doesn’t even begin to describe this guy.”

“Is he hot?” she asks slyly, giving me an amused, knowing look.

“He’s gorgeous, just too intense. He needs to lighten up.”

“Oh, girl, the ones that take shit too seriously? If you’re lucky, he’ll take
everything
seriously, if you know what I mean. He’ll know exactly how to take care of you when it counts. I mean, maybe there’s a reason he’s all tense around you.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, Lady. He’s nothing to me but a pain in the ass. Jack told him to watch me so that’s what he does. It never stops. It’s like he’s hiding around corners, keeping tabs on me.”

“A hot stalker,” she laughs. “What more could a girl want?” 

His Mayhem

I showed them this time. I showed them all.

Build your gates, install your bad-ass security systems -- I can still get to you, Jackie-boy. Sure, it pissed me off when that whore got away from me. Who the hell did she think she was trying to see my face? I hadn’t expected that. I mean, the bitch’s job is to suck cock, but before I could get busy with my knife she was trying to get acquainted.

Of course, I knew who she was—Jack’s whore informant. To me, though, she was the perfect way to demonstrate how dangerous it is to underestimate me. But the bitch forced my hand by jumping out of my car like that. I needed to send
Urban Elite
a message, I needed for them to know they were no match for me. I spent half the night combing the streets for the slut but couldn’t find her.

My irritation at her escape forced me to change my plans, but I think I created just as much of a sensation with my Plan B. After all, she backed me into a corner. I had no choice.

That was when I went back to the house and got the severed head I’d left in the sink to defrost. Even though I had intended to have two severed heads waiting for Jack in the morning, I think I still made my point. Slamming that whore’s head down on the tall security gate finial gave me the rush I’ve been craving. Scratched that itch just right -- and, no doubt, gave Max a small taste of my power.

I hadn’t counted on that Lady Luck whore being such a fighter. I have the black eye to prove it. I’ll see her again, and when I do… Doesn’t matter, though. I did what I set out to do—strike fear in the heart of my opponent. And I know I did, even though he’ll never admit it.

By the time I’m done with Jack Heitman, he’ll be all alone in every way. See how he likes
that
. I, quite literally, got him where he lives. Now that his baby crime fighters see that their lives are in danger, they’ll leave him one by one. Looking into the glazed, unfocused eyes of a severed head is sure to make them take a fresh look at their career goals. He can’t very well have a band of do-gooder vigilantes if they’re running scared.