Prohibited (Tulsa City Sinners #1)

30. Alex

Chapter thirty

Alex

“We haven’t got all day.” Alex was standing at the driver’s side of his car, door open. One foot resting on the step plate, elbow resting on the top of the open door. The engine of the car was ticking pleasantly, a sound that always made him think of Tommy. Tommy and his obsession with cars.

Thinking of Tommy made him furious, so he rarely did it. Even now, the image of his brother with his sly, handsome smile while he bent his head near the hood of the car and nodded with approval at the soft chugging of the engine made him grit his teeth.

Ryan coming down the front steps of the cabin drove the vision of Tommy out of his mind. Ryan was carrying his suit jacket in one hand, blinking the sun out of his eyes in spite of the fedora shading the sunlight out of his face. The high waistline of his trousers emphasized the neat tapering of his torso. Beautiful as always, even though he looked like hell warmed over. Eyes puffy from drink and a lack of quality sleep .

A deliberate act of defiance, Ryan stopped at the bottom step and took his time fitting a Lucky Strike between his perfect lips and touching the end of it with a match. Their Dolly was lingering at the door, hand on the frame, half of her body hidden. The look in her eyes was difficult to read. But mostly it was cautious. Good. He didn’t want her to be too comfortable. She hadn’t earned that.

Malcolm, George, and Carlos climbed into Malcolm’s truck after Malcolm turned the crank and got the engine running.

“See you at Lavar’s,” Malcolm said, giving him a salute. And then the truck was off, throwing dust up in its wake.

Ryan didn’t say anything as he climbed in the car and slammed the door. The way he moved, the way his eyes shifted, the way his shoulders were held high and tight told Alex everything he needed to know about how comfortable Ryan was feeling about their little trip into the city together. This also made him smile. He had fully anticipated Ryan regretting their fun together.

Well. If he thought he regretted it now, he didn’t even begin to comprehend the meaning of regret. He would, though, once Alex was finished teaching him his lesson. But that was a lesson for another day. Today, he was going to savor Ryan’s discomfort like a rich taste on the back of his tongue while they attended to business.

“Straight to Lola’s?” Alex asked as they turned onto the highway and started rolling through the beautiful green countryside of Oklahoma .

“I don’t want to keep him waiting all day.” Ryan didn’t turn his face away from the window. “The longer he waits, he might just change his mind.” His fedora was in his lap and his head was resting against the door, eyes closed, letting the warm air lick his skin as they drove along.

“Business and pleasure,” Alex said in a deliberately facetious tone. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Ryan snorted, but didn’t otherwise respond.

“Gesundheit,” Alex said.

Which drew another sound of disgust from Ryan, but he still said nothing.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Alex said, humor aside.

Ryan made a sound of exasperation and Alex caught the look he shot him out of the corner of his eye.

“Are we really going to have this conversation again?” Ryan said.

They’d been arguing about it since she’d called them yesterday.

Lola’s was an establishment run by Lola, herself, that catered to the needs of her gentlemen clientele. These needs ran the gamut from gaming to sexual pleasure to sexual interests of an unusual flavor. Alex had never taken any pleasure there, but he had heard rumors that there were at least a couple of the women who specialized in administering pain as well as receiving it. As tempting as it was to sample the wares, he didn’t pay for his pleasure anymore. He liked his playmates to participate out of desire, not financial motivation .

When Lola called them the day before to tell them that Mike Page, one of Walter’s guys, was coming forward for a fee, Ryan had been triumphant. Alex, on the other hand, was not so enthusiastic. Yes, Lola was a good and loyal client. Yes, she was a friend of his mother’s. Yes, she’d always given them a safe place to stay and a bite to eat when they needed it as boys. Yes, she typically stayed out of all politics.

But something about it felt off to Alex. And he wanted vengeance as much as a man could, but he wasn’t stupid. Ryan and Malcolm just couldn’t be reasoned with and Alex wasn’t going to let them go along without him.

Personally, though, he was prepared for the worst.

Though normally he would have savored the opportunity to spend so much time with Ryan, Alex was annoyed enough with him that he happily returned Ryan’s determination to ignore him all the way into Tulsa.

Lola’s was a well-appointed home near the riverfront on a large lot set far back from the road that was completely eclipsed by the cyprus trees that grew around the property for the sake of privacy. To the unknowing eye, it looked like any of the other prestigious and stately homes situated in the neighborhood. To the well-informed, however, crossing onto the property was bound to bring a tingle of excitement at the pleasures to come. Alex murmured the correct password to the man who leaned down to greet them and the enormous, elegant wrought iron gates parted to accommodate the sleek Ford that purred softly all the way up the driveway .

“Here goes nothin’,” Ryan muttered.

They followed the drive all the way around the back of the house, where there was abundant space to accommodate vehicles, as well as a stable to accommodate those arriving by carriage and horse. Another man in a uniform identical to the one at the gate saw them out of their vehicle and to the back door of the house, where they were escorted into the house and met with a very pretty, voluptuous woman in a parlor.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” the woman said. Perhaps Alex was imagining it, but he thought she did a double take. What that meant, he didn’t know. Perhaps she was overcome by Ryan’s brilliant baby blues. Or perhaps something unsavory was afoot. He narrowed his eyes at her.

The woman waved her elegant hands through the air with a practiced, graceful motion. “Welcome to this humble home. How can we be of service today?”

“Lola has made arrangements with us to meet with a colleague of hers this afternoon,” Alex said, coldly.

“Oh, yes,” the woman nodded. “Mr. Page has arrived and is waiting in a private room to meet with you. Boris will show you the way.”

The woman made a sweeping gesture toward a tall, heavy-featured youth who was waiting in front of the closed double doors behind the woman, flanked by two other young men. Those two reached forward, each pulling one of the doors open and stepping back, revealing a long hallway that was richly carpeted in a deep plush wine, with gold and red wallpaper lining the corridor, all the way down to another set of double doors.

When they entered the corridor, the doors closed behind them. The sound felt ominous to Alex, though he couldn’t say why. With his wrist, he brushed the Smith & Wesson revolver he always kept on his hip and reassured himself that no matter what, he was prepared to deal with it in one way or another. Beyond, he thought he could faintly hear music.

Boris opened the double doors at the end of the corridor, which let them into a bright, beautifully marbled foyer. A trio of women were playing instruments against the sweeping staircase that went up and up and up. They wore costumes, medieval Victorian creations that fell off of their shoulders and draped across the floor. Indeed, the pianist had one pert pink nipple on display, as the neckline of the evanescent gown couldn’t be persuaded to remain on her shoulder. The hair on each of the women was unbound and they all wore flower crowns.

A pretty picture, certainly. Ryan’s eyes lingered on each of them, appreciating their talent and their grace in his easy, uncomplicated way.

So very charming, as always.

“This way, if you please,” Boris said. An accent that didn’t belong to Oklahoma. Perhaps New England. Boston, maybe. Boris from Boston.

He led them up the grand staircase, which afforded them a view of the hall they were in. The house was grander than his, which was a considerable claim. The chandelier alone was twice the size of his and likely had twice as many delicately cut crystals.

Boris led them down a long corridor with many doors that were all closed. He paused outside of a door that had an elegant plaque on the door that read, “The Grecian Room.”

“Here you are.” Boris gestured to the door and then bowed.

Alex looked at the youth closely, but he betrayed nothing as he gestured them toward the door. Slowly, Alex opened the door. Lola was standing near the fireplace mantel with a man wearing a charcoal suit and a fedora, with his back to them.

Something eased up inside of Alex at the sight of Lola and he let go of the breath he’d been holding. He opened the door all of the way and stepped into the room, Ryan behind him.

Lola and the gentleman she was talking to turned toward them suddenly.

It all happened so fast, but Alex registered the look on Lola’s face first: guilt and then resolution.

He didn’t even get the word fuck out of his mouth before the man with her had a revolver pointed at them and three men stepped out from behind the long, velvet curtains draped at the window.

“Hands up!” the man in the charcoal suit shouted.

Reluctantly, Alex put his hands up while he gritted his teeth so hard it was a wonder they didn’t shatter in his mouth.

Slowly, he turned his head and looked at Ryan with a glare that should have melted the flesh from his face.

“Don’t say it,” Ryan said under his breath.

“Shut up,” the man in the charcoal suit said. “No talking.”

Rough hands seized them both, twisting their arms behind their backs as handcuffs were slapped on their wrists so hard that Alex nearly yelped.

“I told you so,” Alex muttered out of the corner of his mouth, which earned him a sharp kick to the back of the knee.

This was so much worse than he had imagined.