Dirty Debt Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Dirty Debt

  Lauren Landish

  Edited by

  Valorie Clifton

  Edited by

  Staci Etheridge

  Copyright © 2017 by Lauren Landish.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design © 2017 by Coverluv.

  Cover Model: Charlie Garforth.

  Photography by James Critchley.

  Edited by Valorie Clifton & Staci Etheridge.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual.

  Contents

  Dirty Debt

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Preview: Anaconda

  Preview: Mr. Fiance

  Preview: Heartstopper

  Preview: Mr. Fixit

  Sneak Peek: Matchmaker

  About the Author

  Dirty Debt

  by Lauren Landish

  Sarah Waters was supposed to be a bargaining chip. Nothing more. A pawn for me to use to exact revenge on the man that took everything from me.

  But when I look in Sarah's dark mesmerizing eyes, I’m filled with doubt. She has a look of sweet innocence about her that tugs at my hardened heart.

  She makes me question if a life of crime is what I want. I'm destined to be the King of the Streets, but I'd give my kingdom away if it meant I could make her mine.

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  Chapter 1

  Ryker

  “He sent word. He’s not going to pay. What now?”

  I sigh inwardly as I hear my brother, Marcus, over my shoulder. Still, I don’t look away from the city skyline. I’m more interested in the streets below than what he just told me. The cars are so small and seemingly so slow beneath me, as if they’re merely crawling by in the evening traffic. It’s a long way from the streets to up here, but still, I remember those days. I remember the days of scrabbling, of busting my ass and not knowing where the next meal was going to come from.

  It gives me an advantage. I’ll never forget those days either. I slip my hands into the pockets of my slacks, reminding myself that no matter what else, I won’t forget that while the high-up executives of the city might live in penthouses like mine, the heart and blood of this city flows through the asphalt arteries forty-eight floors below me.

  “It doesn’t matter. I want the most valuable thing he has,” I finally answer him. My cold heart barely beats in my chest as I think about the enormity of what I’m asking for. Taking his life is one thing. But men already know that when you don’t pay your debt to me, you’re dead. Now, it’s time to collect on the biggest debt anyone in this city owes me, a debt of blood.

  I want to show them all something else, too, something that will truly put fear in their hearts. If my plan is to work, if my dream of vengeance is going to be more than just a short-term coup that ends in disaster, then I need to not only kill Jacob Waters but also strike fear into the heart of every person who stands with him.

  Jacob Waters thinks he’s untouchable. Or maybe that’s what he wants people to assume. He’s been in power here in the city for over twenty years. It’s hard to think of a time when his name didn’t inspire dread in the tight, powerful circles that run this town. I spent most of my childhood knowing and fearing the name of Jacob Waters until that day five years ago when he had our father killed and that fear turned to hate.

  Now, it’s my turn. I’ll kill the bastard, but first, I’m going to destroy him. For twenty years, he’s been both the most respected or the most feared man in this state, depending on which side of the law you operate on. No, killing him isn’t enough. Before he dies, I’ll take everything away from him piece by piece. I’ll make sure everyone he ever relied on turns their back on him as he falls from the highest height that any man in this city can reach. When he’s put in the ground, the only attendees are going to be the fucking crows. I want everyone to know the truth.

  He’s a crime lord. But he’s more than that. He’s been King of this city for a very long time.

  He has the governor, the police commissioner, the judges, and the fucking law all in his back pocket. He’s made careers, ended careers, lives even… all with total impunity.

  But after two decades, Jacob Waters has gotten arrogant, and he’s made a mistake. He might have the judges. He might have the banks. He might have the money and the politicians, and he might even have the corrupt law on his side.

  But I have the most important thing on my side. I own the streets.

  Starting with the tiny little street gang that my father was the shot-caller for, I’ve grown up in the streets. I ended the turf wars, sometimes through brains and charisma, sometimes with politics, sometimes with muscle, and sometimes with the barrel of a gun. It’s taken me five years, but now I rule the streets.

  Better yet, I have leverage on everyone who matters. The cops walk their beats with my blessing now. The banks know that their drug money only comes into their accounts because I let it. While Jacob’s been wining and dining and schmoozing in his mansion up in the Hills, I’ve been a cancer that eats at him, staying silent until it’s time to land the final blow.

  I’ve been waiting for it, biding my time until the time was right. He fucked with the wrong person, and he deserves what’s coming to him.

  I’m nearly ready for that final blow.

  Tonight was the first move in my end game. I had Marcus make a demand for protection money to Salvatore Francisco, one of Jacob’s head men. We’ll allow him to keep his money laundering racket going on the West Side for a price. Of course, it was rejected, but I already knew that would happen. It was part of my plan. Still, I was worried this morning when I sent Marcus out, knowing that while I’ve got a strong position, my ass isn’t
totally covered. And that doesn’t make me happy.

  “We could take his wife.”

  My head slowly turns to face Marcus. “What was that, Marcus?”

  He shifts from side to side, slightly unsure. I get it. He’s not used to being the idea man, even though he’s got a good head on his shoulders. But I’m the big brother. I’m the man with the plan, he’s the street lieutenant who gets it done. For him to put forth ideas is unfamiliar territory for him. “I said we could take his wife. You know, that long drink of tall, dark, and sexy that he has on his arm all the time. The ex-actress.”

  The image of Sarah flashes before my eyes. I can hear her soft laugh, the beautiful cadence of her voice and the way her hips sway as she moves. It brings back memories of a single day, a perfect moment that still haunts the loneliest of dark nights. For an instant, it makes me pine for her. She’s a gorgeous woman and I’m a red-blooded man. But that smile is the same one she makes while she’s wrapped in Waters’ arms. I clench my jaw and clear my throat, removing the image from my mind.

  It’s a decent idea, but I need time to think about the consequences. I didn’t get to where I am by acting on impulse. “And then what?”

  Marcus shrugs. “I dunno, Ryker. I was thinking we could keep her like a human shield. I mean, I know your usual way of doing things, you don’t like to get innocents involved, but she’s gotta be just as dirty as him. Who the fuck marries a fucker like him unless they’re dirty too? She doesn’t strike me as being so stupid as to not know. So why not keep her, pretend we’re going to rough her up a little, and then let her go?”

  It’s an inspired idea, honestly. “First his wife, then his business, then his crew, then him? Destroy him bit by bit?”

  Marcus nods. “That’s what I was thinking. Waters took from us, so we take from him. And you’ve gotta admit, it’s sort of your style.”

  “My style?” I ask, amused. “And just what is my style, Marcus?”

  I know he isn’t used to so much deep conversation. Most of the time, our conversations are much more direct, lots of yes-or-no type answers. Marcus shifts from side to side again before answering. “It’s just… you’ve got flair, man. It’s why you do this so much better than me. There’s like, a sense of poetry to what you do. And since Waters took Pop from us because of this bitch, maybe it’s just sort of fitting that we take from him. Starting with her.”

  I think about it, and I must admit I’m a little unsure. I have a soft spot for women, but I’m making an example of this fuck-face. I don’t care how much power anyone has. No one’s going to get away with stealing from me. And Waters stole something more important than money from me. He stole my flesh and blood. He took Pop from us, and he didn’t even care. All he cared about was making sure he looked like a tough son of a bitch for someone supposedly flirting with his wife. I even know why Pop maybe, maybe could have looked at the woman. She does look a lot like Pop’s sister, the aunt who died before I was born. He was probably just taken by how much she looked like her.

  It doesn’t matter, though. Waters thought that Pop was giving his new bride the horny eye, so he pulled out his gun and POW! I’m twenty-four, parentless since Mom took off when I was a teenager, with a younger brother to take care of and a street gang that’s looking to me for leadership. Marcus’s idea is a good one.

  Still, there are drawbacks to consider. “You know if we do this, we’re going to have a target on our backs until this is carried through. I’m not saying that you’re wrong, just that if we go through with it, he’s not going to stop. We’re going to need to go fast and brutal. Like Caesar crossing the fucking Rubicon. Once we do it, there ain’t no going back.”

  Marcus shrugs. He was a little younger when Pop was gunned down. For him, the pain isn’t any more or less, but it is more visceral, more in the gut. “You know me, Ryker. I’m fine with that. I’ve been willing to die for this chance for five years now. Besides, he won’t do shit if we have his precious wife.”

  Precious wife. What an understatement. Sarah Waters is Jacob’s prized possession. I’ve met her before, something I don’t think anyone else knows except for maybe Marcus.

  Back before she met Jacob, she was known as Sarah Desjardins, or just Sarah D. if you were more into pop culture. She’d done some teen shows, the sort of angsty teen shit that I wasn’t into even when I was that age, but she certainly made watching that chick flick shit easier. She always had that elegance, that sort of innocence combined with a physical maturity that looked beyond her years. I know that her show where she spent at least half of each episode in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform was popular with guys, mostly for the spank bank material she provided an entire generation of guys my age.

  Then Sarah D. found out that being a teen hottie doesn’t always translate to success past the age of twenty-one. That’s when I met her, although she probably doesn’t remember. She’d come into the city to do some B-grade action flick that was trying to pretend it was A-list. I worked security for fun, helping a guy Pop knew, and Pop knew I liked movies. One day, I’d even been given the task of escorting Miss Sarah D. from makeup to the set, keeping the fans she had off her.

  There had been one guy, one of those pervy types I’d come to spot a mile away even with my inexperience, a little too old to be looking for an autograph for himself and a little too young to be looking for autographs for his kids. That and the way his eyes had a sort of desperate shine to them. When he made a move toward her, I very calmly grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, throwing him onto the sidewalk face first.

  “Thanks,” Sarah told me, giving me an appreciative glance. I think it was the first time she really saw me, and at the time, I felt like there was some kind of connection. She even reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder when there was a little bit of privacy, and I could see she wanted to say something, except some assistant yelled for her on set. “See you later,” she’d told me. “Let’s talk some time.”

  But I never got a chance. That asshole obsessed fan complained and got me reassigned to a different part of the set, and I wasn’t around her as much after that. Something about liability risk.

  She doesn’t remember me for damn sure, but it was that same movie where she met Jacob Waters. The tabloids had a field day during their six month whirlwind courtship, considering that his second wife had just disappeared a year before, but even then, Waters didn’t give a fuck. He was dating a woman who was named one of Young Hollywood’s Top Twenty-Five Hottest Under Twenty-Five, a woman younger than half his age. They got married, and a month later, my Pop was dead.

  Since then, Waters keeps Sarah like some people keep a piece of jewelry. He parades her around on his arm, his grin always seeming to say I’ve got it all, and you don’t. There isn’t a society event in the city where she’s not beside him looking like a million bucks. Even now, five years into the marriage, although she’s officially retired from Hollywood, she gets headlines. It’s easy to see why. She’s beautiful. Long, black hair that hangs nearly to her waist, a light natural tan to her skin that is supposedly the result of a little bit of Gypsy blood to go with her French maiden name in her background, and a sensuality that certainly adds to that rumor.

  But on the other hand, like a well-kept poodle, she’s spoiled. She doesn’t go anywhere without either Jacob or a couple of bodyguards. Or both. Prada and Gucci are to her what Hanes and Levis are to me.

  Still, that body, those dark, mysterious eyes, and even the fact that she’s tall for a woman, just a shade under six feet… I can’t help but crave her. I have ever since I was a teen myself. And there was those few minutes, no matter how hard I try to get them out of my head, that still make me muse, what if?

  Not that it matters. Marcus is right. Either Sarah Waters is as corrupt as her husband, a gold digger who doesn’t care that the gold is above and beyond bloodstained, or she’s so fucking stupid that taking her out of the world might just do humanity a favor. But I refuse to believe the last part. With h
er in our possession, we can cripple Jacob Waters just long enough to destroy the rest of his castle and make it crumble down around him.

  “If we’re going to get Sarah Waters, we need a distraction. We do that, and we distract Jacob. We’ll start with his crew, his friends. Who are the fuck-faces who are closest to him?”

  “Sal Francisco for sure, but also Jimmy Carlson and Julio Gonzales,” Marcus says right off the bat. “Why? What are you thinking?”

  I turn, looking back out at the lights of the city, the speckled chaos of the city helping me think. “Those three—they get together on a regular basis, playing poker if I remember right. We take out those three all at once, and it’ll get Jacob’s attention and send the sort of message that we want to send. Get with our boys who have ears and info. I want to know when and where those three are playing together again. We go in, and we hit them hard.”

  Marcus nods. “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Also, find two men with steady hands, good ones to back us up,” I reply, taking my hands out of my pockets and clasping them behind my back. “You have to figure that they’ll have men with them, let’s say six on four, with us having the element of surprise. So, I want their deaths to be . . . noticeable. Something that’ll get Jacob and his pretty, pampered wife out of his mansion in order to attend the funeral. See to it.”