Men of Mayhem Read online

My client, an up and coming actor, left through the back door of my private office. It emptied out into an alley. Ever since I’d been featured as the tattoo artist to the stars, and even approached about a reality show, the front entrance to my shop had become a popular hangout for paparazzi hoping to get pictures of my celebrity clientele.

  Not all of my clients were there for tattoos, though. I went out to the front and reminded Dani that I was not to be disturbed. “Got it, Victor, only unless the fucking place is on fire,” she said, making her voice deep in an attempt to impersonate me being serious.

  Grabbing a Red Bull from the mini fridge underneath the front counter, I disappeared into my office and locked the door. Minutes later there was a light knock at the private entrance. I had a security camera mounted right outside with a live feed to a monitor. Verifying the person at the door wasn’t a cop, I let him in.

  Gio had given me few details as per usual. I only knew how much to collect and if it was an actual hit or just a beat down.

  “Have a seat.” I gestured to a chair in the corner. The man sat down and his gaze darted around the small room, taking in the display of my work. A collection of sketches and pictures of completed tattoos lined the walls. He licked his lips and his fingers tapped against his leg like he was counting out a tempo, but I knew it was nerves.

  “First time?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I nodded and sat down across from him. The man fidgeted and had a hard time making eye contact. “Do you have the paperwork?”

  “Um, yes, right here.” He opened up the brown envelope he had been carrying and handed me a picture plus a sheet with essential information like name and current address. Reaching into the envelope again, he pulled out a thick stack of cash. “Fifty grand, right?”

  I did a quick count and made sure there were indeed fifty one thousand dollar bills before setting that off to the side and looking over the details. “So you don’t want the body left behind, correct?”

  “Right, I want it to look like she disappeared.”

  I nodded again and chewed on the small hoop on my lower lip. All of the information was there and this wasn’t new to me. This guy was some big shot who got involved with a woman, not his wife, who most likely threatened to blackmail him for all he was worth. Instead of going through a long and very public divorce settlement or to pay the extortion fees, it was cheaper to get rid of them. That’s what I did for Gio. He was the boss of the L.A. mob, head of the Bianchi crime family, and I was one of his enforcers for hire.

  “It will be taken care of by the end of the week,” I told him. He stood up, but we didn’t shake hands. Minimal contact all around was the best practice. After the man left, I put the cash in a small safe tucked away underneath my desk and looked at the picture of my mark for the last time, memorizing the details of her face right down to the mole on her cheek and the slight overbite of her smile. Using my Zippo lighter, I lit the edges and dropped the paperwork in the sink. The paper burned first, disintegrating into gray ash. I watched the edges of the picture curl and then melt, distorting the woman’s face. Her eyes and mouth stretched as flames licked through before devouring the rest of her features until she disappeared completely.

  Just like that picture, soon the woman would be gone from the earth, buried in the desert among the graves of other dirty little secrets, which there were a lot of in Hollywood. It was good money and Gio recognized the opportunity. Hey, as long as I got paid and didn’t get caught, it was all good.

  Lauren

  You can do this. You were trained for this. I repeated the mantra in my head, hoping the motivational speech took root. I studied myself in the mirror one last time. The gray pinstripe pencil skirt was still wrinkle-free, as was the white blouse with capped sleeves. Black heels completed the outfit. My young corporate America outfit had been chosen specifically to help me blend in. My blonde hair was pinned up in a twist, which was a good thing as I was so nervous I’d probably wind up chewing on it.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” I said out loud. After grabbing my sunglasses and bag, I left my studio apartment. It was a short drive to the office and I arrived ten minutes early for my first day. Better early than late. One of my dad’s favorite sayings immediately popped into my head and made me smile. He had been gone for ten years yet still managed to find a way to say the right thing.

  My boss, Katherine Smith, was already in and looked up from her computer when she heard me walk in.

  “Lauren, welcome.” She came out to greet me and took me on a tour of the suite. After getting a cup of coffee at the Kuerig in the break room, she showed me to my office. It was small, maybe a ten by ten space, but it had a window overlooking the busy street below and let in plenty of sunlight.

  “Hold on, I forgot something,” Katherine said and left, returning moments later with a cactus in a terracotta planter. The cactus was in bloom and covered in tiny, pale yellow blossoms. “Here you go.” She handed the plant to me.

  “Thank you,” I said and set it on the desk which was empty except for a laptop, monitor, phone, and a stapler.

  “You’re welcome. Feel free to decorate your office, add some flair. It’s pretty barren as it is.”

  I agreed, taking in the blank white walls and plain office equipment.

  Katherine left me alone to get settled in, promising to return in half an hour to go over paperwork and office policies and procedures. As soon as she left, I sat down at my desk and pulled out my cell phone.

  Me: So far so good. Getting assimilated.

  Boss: Great. Still on to broach target later?

  Me: Yes.

  Slipping the phone back in my bag I busied myself with getting familiar with the computer. My passwords were provided on a sticker stuck to the bottom of the laptop. I shook my head at the lack of concern over security.

  I am Lauren Holly Michaels, the new staffing specialist for Deacon Staffing Consultants and new to Los Angeles via Columbus, Ohio. At least that’s what anyone who dug into my background would find. In reality, I am Lauren Hope Daniels and an Intelligence Analyst for the DEA, working undercover. My target was Victor Drago, known enforcer for the Bianchi crime family and owner of a tattoo shop one block over from my office. This was my first case and the only reason I had been assigned to it was because I was new—a fresh face to the agency and an unknown. Anyone on the Bianchi payroll within the agency or with local law enforcement would not know me. So, technically it was my first day for both jobs. Balancing both would be challenging, but I needed the staffing gig as my cover.

  The day went by quickly as Katherine caught me up to speed on the employers who made up my client list. We reviewed potential candidates for positions with these clients, and Katherine had me forward my recommendations as a way of introducing myself. I walked with her to the parking garage and got in my car, but didn’t leave. Once Katherine drove past and made her way toward the exit, I got back out and unclipped my hair. It tumbled down around my shoulders in thick waves. After a quick application of red lipstick I was ready.

  Vicious Ink came into view when I rounded the corner. Three motorcycles were parked right out front. A black Harley Davidson Road King caught my attention and then I confirmed the license plate. Intel had provided information on Victor’s vehicles so I had made a point to memorize all of the tags. Victor was here. I took a deep breath before opening the door to his shop, adding an extra sway to my hips as I stepped inside.

  Victor

  It was after five and that’s when things usually got busy. I had a break in between appointments so I went up to the front for another Red Bull. Dani was on the phone and had some dude at the counter in front of her. He was leafing through a photo album full of tattoo ideas and examples of past work. I grabbed a can out of the refrigerator and heard the bell on the front door chime. I looked up and that’s when I saw her. Sun hitting the front of my shop provided a backlight that showcased this woman’s figure. She was all curves and as my eyes moved lower; I saw sh
e was all legs too. Her skirt skimmed the top of her knees and her calves were toned. She moved closer to the counter and out of the light, but seemed to carry the sun with her. Blonde hair spilled over her breasts and her tan skin practically sparkled. My gaze was drawn to her flawless skin. I didn’t see a trace of any ink. I chewed on my lip ring as I admired the potentially blank canvas on the woman who stood in front of me.

  “How can I help you?” I asked.

  The woman gave me a shy smile and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking up at me with eyes that wavered between blue and green. “I want a tattoo,” she said, and I detected a slight accent. Was it southern, Midwestern? I couldn’t place it, but wasn’t surprised. Native Angelinos were far outnumbered by transplants. “Um, it’ll be my first, but people told me this is the place to go.”

  “Is that right? What did you have in mind?” Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Dani staring at me. I rarely helped new customers right off the street and left those for the other artists since I was usually booked out. There was no way in hell I would let anyone else touch this woman, though.

  “Um.” She cleared her throat and glanced around. “Can I discuss this with you in private? It’s kind of personal.”

  “Of course.” I gestured for her to follow me into my office, giving Dani a signal to not disturb me. “I’m Victor, by the way,” I said to her as she moved past me and into my space. Fuck me, she even smelled like sunshine—warm, sweet, and fresh.

  “Lauren,” she said. “I’ve heard about you, Victor, that you do great work.”

  “You heard right. Here, have a seat and tell me about yourself.”

  She sat down in the chair and I was distracted by her legs when she crossed them at the ankle.

  “Okay, I’m new to town and just started my first real job. The tattoo is a gift to me and a way of commemorating how far I’ve come.”

  Lauren looked down at her hands curled on her lap, but not before I saw her eyes shimmer with tears. Ah shit, a crier. I fucking hated criers.

  “If this tattoo has anything to do with getting over an ex, don’t get it. You’ll have tattoo regret. Trust me, I’ve been in this business long enough to know.”

  “No,” she blurted out and actually laughed. “God, no. I’m not an idiot. No boyfriend or ex-boyfriend in the picture.”

  “All right then, continue.” I smiled at her, pleased to learn she was single. That was one less obstacle to worry about. This would be easy.

  I was not prepared for what happened next.

  Lauren unbuttoned her blouse with fingers that trembled slightly. I found myself holding my breath as more skin was revealed. She wore a simple tan cotton bra and her nipples beaded up when she shrugged her shirt off, but my attention was quickly diverted by a long scar that started about two inches above her bellybutton and ran in a jagged line, disappearing beneath the waistband of her skirt.

  “What the fuck happened?” I asked. “Did someone hurt you?” Inexplicable rage coursed through my veins at the sight of her damaged skin.

  “I was in a car accident when I was thirteen. It was an accident, no one hurt me.” Lauren placed a hand over mine to calm me down, and that’s when I realized it had subconsciously curled into a fist. “My parents didn’t make it, though.” I heard the sadness in her voice, but when she met my eyes, hers were dry. “I want to cover the scar, make it beautiful. Can you do that for me?”

  “Sweetheart, you’re already beautiful.” I cupped her cheek before I even realized what I was doing. I felt it grow warm beneath my touch and then shift when she smiled.

  “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”

  What the fuck was going on? It was like this woman had me under a spell the moment she walked into my shop. No woman ever made me get all touchy-feely like this before.

  We spent the next hour talking through her ideas. When I went to trace the scar, to get a feel for the bumpiness of the surface, she gasped.

  “Is it still sensitive?” I asked, glancing up at her to find her sucking on her lower lip.

  “No.”

  “Are you ticklish?”

  She shook her head then placed her hand on top of mine, pressing it down so my palm was flat against her stomach. Her breathing was erratic, and goose bumps dotted her skin even though she felt warm to the touch. We stared at each other and maintained that simple contact, but we might as well as have had sex for how intimate it felt. I knew my next appointment would be knocking on the back door any minute, but I didn’t want to let go.

  I finally pulled away, severing the connection, but still sensed it pulsing in the air around us. I made room in my schedule for Lauren to come back the next week for her first session.

  “See you later, sweetheart,” I said, watching with disappointment as she buttoned her shirt.

  “I’m looking forward to it.” Lauren surprised me when she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Good night, Victor,” she whispered in my ear, and that alone made my dick twitch.

  Just as she left there was a sharp knock on the private entrance. Shaking off the lingering effects of Lauren’s spell, I crossed the room to let my next client in, but my head wasn’t in the game the rest of the night. Like tectonic plates, something had shifted inside of me when Lauren walked into my shop, and I didn’t have a clue how to handle it.

  Lauren

  As soon as I was around the corner from Victor’s shop, I leaned against the concrete wall and let out a deep breath. My assignment was to get close to him, to see if I could learn inside information on the large heroin operation Victor’s boss, Gio, was involved in. There wasn’t a lot of time and my supervisor expected me to use my feminine wiles. I had been resistant to the whole idea as it made me feel cheap, but it was a reasonable approach. Expecting to have to force the attraction, I was surprised to discover it came naturally between us, inspiring hope that I could pull off the assignment after all. The trick was to be as truthful about my background as possible in case Victor had the ability to sniff out lies. What I told him about my parents was true, and I was new to town and starting a new job. Being able to use my first name helped too. Holding a hand against my belly to quell the butterflies, I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. When I moved away from the wall, I had a big smile on my face knowing that I’d be seeing Victor again.

  I spent the next morning in my office, but frequent intel from my team was constantly being fed to me regarding Victor’s movements, so when he stopped to eat lunch at a restaurant down the street, I was ordered to go there and casually bump into him. I grabbed my bag, popped a mint into my mouth, and quickly left.

  Victor was eating at a local burger joint that had a line out the door for takeout. Spying an empty seat at the bar, I squeezed through the line, fortunately snagging the stool. I quickly ordered an iced tea with lemon and a turkey burger with a side salad. When the bartender left after taking my order, I casually glanced around the restaurant. Someone touched my elbow and I jumped, swiveling around to find Victor standing next to me.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey yourself, sweetheart. What are the odds of running into you here?”

  “Well, it is lunchtime and this is close to my office, so…” He grinned at my response.

  “Eating alone?” Victor looked at the men on either side of me while sucking on his piercing, a small silver hoop on the left side of his bottom lip. Damn, that was sexy. Shaking off the distracting thoughts, I focused on the conversation at hand.

  “Yes, alone. Unless you want to join me? We can try to get a table…” Before I could flag down the hostess, Victor got the bartender’s attention and gestured at the businessman sitting next to me. Moments later the man’s lunch was packed up and he was gone. With a shit eating grin, Victor sat down on the now vacant stool. I knew he had influence, but witnessing it firsthand was something else. Part of me was secretly thrilled that he exerted his power to have lunch with me, and another part was intimidated because I knew I was in way over my h
ead for this assignment. I couldn’t afford to screw it up, though. I had come too far and worked too damn hard to get this job.

  Victor had already eaten, but he stayed while I ate my lunch. He gesticulated a lot when he spoke and the tattoos on his arms were distracting when he moved. His muscular forearms were a colorful storyboard that I wanted to read. When he wasn’t talking, his right arm was slung over the back of my stool and he leaned toward me. He filled me in on the neighborhoods to avoid and which beaches were the best. After I finished eating, the bartender gave me the bill, but Victor snatched it up and handed the guy a twenty.

  “Hey, you didn’t have to pay for my lunch.”

  “I don’t mind, sweetheart. So, where are you off to next?” We stood and left the crowded restaurant.

  “Back to the office. I have a conference call at two.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” he said and placed his hand on the small of my back. Victor was a big guy and people on the sidewalk moved around us. I considered myself tall at five-foot-eight, but felt like a dwarf next to Victor with the top of my head barely reaching his shoulders. It was a brief walk back to my office building and I thought Victor would leave me at the door, but he surprised me when he held it open and followed me inside and onto the elevator.

  “You don’t have to literally walk me to my office,” I teased.

  “Hey, you saw mine now you get to show me yours,” he said with a grin and I laughed as he had seen a lot more of me than I of him.

  The entire front of the suite was frosted glass etched with the agency’s logo. Victor held one of the double doors open for me and we stepped inside. Cindy, the front receptionist, looked up and stared open-mouthed at Victor. I felt her stare until we reached my office. Katherine’s door was shut and the other recruiter had gone on vacation, so the space was relatively quiet.