man, no way. I’m not going down for just watching your place. I didn’t see shit to report back. I didn’t make trouble.”
“Christ, I hate liars. You got caught with your hand in a woman’s purse.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t steal anything from you.”
“You steal on my property, you make my guests feel unsafe. That’s costing me money.”
Fucking dumbass.
“I’ll work for you, man. You wouldn’t even have to pay me. I’ll tell Dobrow whatever you want, and I’ll report back to you. I’ll ask questions. I’ll be your eyes and ears.”
I had eyes and ears all over the city, ranging from high-level officials to card slappers, showgirls, and a very adult Buzz Lightyear who worked the Strip, posing with a variety of other toys. There were things to learn from everyone, but usually those who were dismissed and disregarded garnered the most useful information.
It was easy to overhear things when people forgot they existed.
But deals only worked when I trusted the person. And I didn’t trust Tommy with a spork.
“I want to know when it’s done,” I told Marco.
“Wait! C’mon, we can figure this out. I can do something. I got good connections. I can score anything your clients need, I swear.”
That wasn’t a surprise. The sallow, waxiness of his pasty skin made it clear he knew his way around drugs.
I didn’t like that shit in my casinos, I sure as hell wasn’t going to supply it. Even at the makeshift arenas, coke, weed, and limited uppers were allowed, but anything else was confiscated by security during pat-downs and tossed. It hadn’t taken long before people stopped trying to sneak it in.
Ash took out his little black kit, unzipped it, and pulled out a syringe. He glanced at it before putting it back and getting a different one. “Ready?”
“I hate this part,” Marco sighed, approaching Tommy.
“Whoa, point made. Okay? Point made. I won’t go back to Dobrow at all. I won’t ever contact you. You’ll never see me again, I swear it.” The sound of something dripping on the floor came seconds before the scent of ammonia filled the small space.
Marco grimaced. “Damn, just once can’t someone keep their piss where it belongs.”
“Look how orange it is.” Ash shook his head. “Jesus, drink a glass of water every once in a while.” He smirked, undoing Tommy’s belt. “Oh wait.”
Cruel bastard.
“What’re you doing?” Tommy shifted away as his belt was pulled free, panic widening his eyes. “Get away from me, you freak.”
“Trust me, if I swung that way, I’d have higher standards.”
After Marco pushed the sleeves of Tommy’s grubby shirt up, exposing the plethora of scabs, scars, and track marks, Ash tightened the belt around Tommy’s upper arm.
He had to know we weren’t just giving him a free high, but that didn’t stop him from watching the needle like… well, like a junkie getting his next fix. His movements and protests were half-assed, and it didn’t take much effort for Marco to subdue him long enough for Ash to inject him.
I opened the door behind me and slipped out into the hall before the urine smell permeated into my clothes and not just my nostrils.
“Done?” Cole asked.
I lifted my chin. “Marco and you can handle the dump while Ash gets Juliet.”
Cole would jam Dobrow’s cheap security cameras so they could dump the body outside whichever of his clubs was most deserted.
Minus a few punches to Janson’s mouth, there were no signs of a struggle. Ash’s skilled rope work wouldn’t leave any bruising or abrasions, Tommy hadn’t put up a fight, and his own belt was used.
As far as anyone would be concerned, it was an OD.
But Dobrow would know.
“Get anything useful out of him?” Cole asked.
“Not unless you consider him pissing himself useful,” I said.
His lip curled. “I think that room has seen more piss than the toilets in this place. Why is everyone’s first instinct to piss themselves when they’re about to die?”
Not everyone.
Twice Juliet thought she was facing death, and twice she faced it with strength.
“When I die,” he continued, “it’ll be with a beautiful woman riding my dick and another riding my face. And, unlike that diplomat at Nebula with the golden shower fetish, there will be no piss involved.”
Little turned my stomach, but the reminder of how the diplomat had left that room did it. “Fucking hell, don’t ever mention that shit to me again. I had to toss the whole bed and hire one of the crews that handle crime scenes to scrub that place out.”
Cole smiled.