Rough Stuff (Dirty Bad Things Book 3) Read online

  “Stop asking so many fucking questions.”

  There’s a warning edge to his voice that sets my jaw clenching.

  “I just mean, I’m her driver, and I wasn’t the one who—”

  “Just get your ass to the hotel and do your job, alright?” Tony sighs. “Roman, people like you. And you ain’t exactly a likable guy, no offense.”

  I frown. “None taken.”

  “So, roll with that. Stay likable. You know what makes you real unlikable in Gino’s town?”

  I rake my fingers over the scruff on my jaw. “What’s that, Tony?” I say, my voice leaden.

  “Asking fuckin’ questions. Especially if those questions get real specific on Mrs. Moretti.”

  I almost say something else, but I shut my mouth.

  “Good move.”

  I scowl. “What?”

  “Not saying whatever the fuck I know you were trying to come up with a way of saying. Go do your job, kid.”

  He hangs up.

  Fuck.

  An hour later, I’m waiting outside of the girl’s room while Quinn talks to her. On the outside, I’m calm, I’m neutral, and I’m just standing there doing my job. But on the inside, I’m fucking raging.

  Because that girl in that room is no porn star. She’s too scared, too out of her element. Too clearly a goddamn prisoner of this place. Fuck, and all I can think of is my sister, of course. My sister who was probably the same fucking age this girl is when her life turned to ash around her.

  The door suddenly swings open, and Quinn sticks her head out.

  "You two," she barks at the two dipshits who followed us up here. "Get the old presidential suite upstairs ready for her. She'll be moving there immediately."

  They glance at each other.

  "Uh, Miss Moretti—"

  “Mrs.,” Quinn growls. I actually grin, even if I fucking hate that name.

  "Of course, Mrs. Moretti. It's just that Nico told us not to move—"

  "And Nico reports to my husband, doesn't he? Which means you two report to him as well."

  There it is again. Again, I want be furious at hearing that word from her lips, but I know what she’s doing, and it makes me grin. Fuck does she have some fire in her.

  The two assholes nod quickly.

  "I'm so glad we sorted that out. Please make sure the room is set up immediately."

  The two guys run off, and for a second, it’s just her and me standing in the doorway in that dim hallway. Her eyes lock onto mine, and she smiles for one second, just enough to send something hot burning through my heart before she turns.

  What the fuck?

  I catch it right before she steps back in and closes the door, but I know what I saw.

  …I know what a black eye looks like when someone’s trying to cover it up with makeup.

  I can’t ask when she comes out of the room. Not with the two pricks gawking around. I can’t ask in the elevator, when they follow us down. Fuck, I can’t even ask in the car, because one of Gino’s captains needs a ride to his car parked at The Venetian.

  …Apparently I’m a fucking Uber driver for the mob.

  Gino’s guy makes small talk — terrible, terrible small talk — the whole damn ride over there. But I’m not even paying attention to him. Hell I’m hardly able to pay attention to the damn road. All I can do is keep watching her, half turned looking out the window. Sunglasses and makeup can’t hide it once I’ve seen it, and now there’s just something fierce burning inside of me.

  “Thanks for the lift, pal.”

  Gino’s lackey heads off across the Venetian’s parking lot towards his Cadillac. And finally, we’re alone. I whirl, my eyes fierce and my jaw clenched tight.

  “Jesus, what the fuck—”

  “I need to get something inside.”

  She’s out the door before I can say a thing, leaving me blinking in my rage before I yank my seatbelt off and follow her.

  “Hang on.”

  She ignores me, stomping towards the backdoor of the restaurant. The place isn’t open for lunch on Monday’s, but the kitchen crew is already there prepping for dinner. Most of them know who she is and nod politely as she makes her way through the kitchen to the main restaurant, me following grimly behind her.

  “Stop,” I growl, finally catching up with her by the stairs to second floor offices and grabbing her arm.

  “Roman—”

  Her voice catches and she turns away from me.

  “Can we just go home?”

  “What the hell did he do?” I growl lowly, every muscle in my body tensed, every part of me ready to kill.”

  “Roman, please,” she whispers, her eyes full of fear. “I— I fell.”

  “Goddamnit,” I hiss, shaking my head. “He fucking hit you!”

  She closes her eyes.

  Mother. Fucker.

  “Come here,” I growl, pulling her into me. She hesitates for a second, before suddenly she crumples against my chest.

  “I swear to God, I’m going to—”

  “There’s nothing to do,” she says softly, her hands tightening on my shirt.

  “Yes there is,” I hiss.

  “Not without getting killed.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to get another bodyguard.”

  She smiles wryly, seeing the shadow of dark humor in my words.

  “You know this is more than that,” she says quietly, her eyes darting over mine. “I mean you know that you and I—”

  “Yeah, I know,” I growl lowly. My hand comes up to touch her chin, tilting her face up as I lean in and kiss her slowly.

  “Come here.”

  I glance around and then lead her up the stairs to the offices up here. No one’s here this early in the day, and I pull her into the one office I know — the one that belongs to Gray. I usher her in and close the door behind us before I pull her against me.

  Quinn moans as I kiss her softly before pulling away.

  “That girl, Rose?” Her face darkens. “God, I can’t be around this anymore, Roman.”

  “What’s the deal there?”

  She barks out a thin laugh. “The usual Moretti horrible shit. They’re forcing her to shoot it, over some debt or something.”

  My jaw clenches tight, a growl rumbling in my throat.

  “You’re friends with Dylan Porter, right?”

  I nod.

  “Did you…did you know?”

  I sigh. “About the porn thing? Yeah,” I growl. “I know. Gray and I are trying to figure something out.”

  “She’s going to be his co-star, Roman.”

  I swear, looking away and gritting my teeth.

  “She’s young,” I hiss.

  “It’s worse.”

  I turn to see her shaking her head. “Jesus, Roman, it’s going to be her first time. That’s the movie they’re shooting — Dylan taking her virginity on camera.”

  Fucking hell.

  Tears brim in Quinn’s eyes, and I pull her into me, holding her tight.

  “We’re going to figure something out, I swear. And I’m getting you out of this shit,” I growl fiercely. “Quinn—”

  “There’s nothing to do, Roman,” she says quietly.

  “The hell there isn’t.”

  I kiss her again, wrapping my arms around her and letting her feel every bit of what I’m feeling through that kiss.

  “How about for now, you just make me forget, okay?” She pulls away and looks up at me with those big beautiful green eyes. “Just make me forget about all of this shit. Please.”

  The getting her away from Gino plan I’m still working out in my head. But this I can do.

  I kiss her again, a little harder and a little deeper this time. My hands slide around her hips, pushing her back against the desk as I move against her. She moans, her legs spreading and wrapping around my hips as I growl into her lips and slide my hand into her hair.

  The doorknob to the office cranks open with a squeak, and the two of us spring apart as the d
oor swings open.

  Ahh fuck.

  Okay, it could be worse, but when Gray — shrewd, professional lawyer and bullshit detector Gray — opens that door and lays his eyes on us, I already know there’s no trying to pretend it isn’t what he clearly knows it is.

  Quinn quickly looks away. “Roman was just helping me find my earring,” she says quickly, forcing a smile as she shoots a quick look Gray’s way — her right side, I notice.

  “Yeah he’s, uh, he’s good at that I guess.”

  Shit.

  I frown as Gray clears his throat.

  “Especially when those earrings are in my office.”

  His eyes dart to my scowling face and he smiles thinly.

  “Find what you were looking for?” He says it cheerily, brightly. He’s fucking with me. Asshole.

  “Yep,” I quickly growl. Maybe a little too quickly.

  “Well that is fantastic.”

  There’s this awkward silence for another moment before Quinn clears her throat. “Well, I should go.”

  She flashes me a quick “what the fuck do we do now” look as she turns away from Gray, before turning back to him. “Nice to see you, Grayson,” she says shortly, slipping her shades back on and quickly darting past him out the door.

  “Ma’am,” he mutters as we both watch her leave. I start to follow, but his hand shoots out and jabs a finger into my chest.

  “Sit your ass down,” he hisses.

  “Fuck off, I have to—”

  “Now.”

  I growl as he shoves me back, sending me tumbling into his desk chair. I glare at him as he shuts his office door.

  “Don’t give me that look.”

  “Fuck off, Gray.”

  His face darkens. “Are you fucking insane?!”

  “I said fuck off,” I snarl again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I love my friend like a brother. Hell, he, Dylan and I practically are brothers. But I don’t have the space for this shit right now.

  “The hell I don’t. Quinn fucking Moretti?” He shakes his head at me, giving me that look like he can’t tell if I’ve totally lost it or not. “Fucking hell, Roman, there are like four million girls out there on the Strip who’d probably be willing spread their legs for a guy like you.”

  My jaw tightens. He’s reading this way wrong.

  “Shit, you got a thing for redheads? Well fuck, I guess that takes the pool down to what, one and a half million? Jesus fuck, Roman!”

  “Back off,” I snarl, a warning tone to my voice. “I’m serious.

  “I can’t.”

  “Well you damn well should.”

  “Oh, sorry that I don’t want to see you die, man,” he grumbles quietly, his eyes fierce.

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  Gray laughs. “No, you don’t. Or if you do, you don’t know the consequences of whatever this little thing you’ve got going—”

  “Trust me,” I spit. “I do.” I shake my head at him. “And let’s back the fuck off of me for second. Where the hell have you been the last few weeks man?”

  It’s a diversion, and a smart guy like Gray knows that. But I’m also not wrong. My friend’s been off the damn grid for the last few weeks, since before I got the new detail to shadow Quinn.

  “Don’t try and shift this onto me, Roman.”

  “Hey, I’m serious. You’ve been a ghost, Gray.”

  His face darkens, getting that “lawyer” look he’s good at throwing around.

  “Been busy.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s her name?”

  I catch it. He might be the trained lawyer, but I know my friend well enough that there’s no way we could ever play a fair game of poker together, because I know all his tells. Like the one I just caught as he tries to hide the fact that my joke is actually closer to home than I was expecting.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Shit. Gray hiding a woman thing from me or Dylan is never a good sign. Actually, it means trouble. It means something like Michelle, his psychotic ex that really cut him up good when we were freshly back in town after the Marines.

  “This isn’t another Michelle is—”

  “No,” he hisses, violently. My brows raise.

  Well that’s an interesting response.

  But I drop it before the two of us actually get to that point where we fight like brothers, as we’ve done before.

  He sighs as the tension drops. “Drink?”

  I sigh heavily. “Yeah, sure.”

  He heads over to the little mini bar against the far wall of his office and pours a couple of drinks — scotch from the smell of it. Gray sinks into his chair, I drop into the one across the desk from him, and he slides me a glass.

  “So, this Dylan thing. Shooting a porn?”

  It’s a purposeful subject change, and I’m betting Gray knows it. But he lets it go.

  “Yeah,” he mutters, shaking his head.

  “Can we stop it?”

  “Not sure. Nico seems dead set on making it happen. The guy puts the scum back in scumbag.”

  “Quinn met with the girl who’s going to be his costar today. Rose.” I grit my teeth, my face darkening. “She’s young, man.”

  “I heard,” he says quietly, scowling into his drink.

  “And she’s not a porn actress or anything. You know how Gino works. She owes him or some shit, and they’re forcing her as much as they are Dylan.”

  I set my glass down and look at my friend grimly.

  “Gray, it’s going to be her first time. The whole fucking porn is about her ‘losing it’ on camera.” I swears viciously, standing and whirling as the rage starts to overtake me. But suddenly, Gray’s up too, his hand on my arm calming me.

  “Easy, man. Easy.”

  Deliah was basically a sister to Gray and Dylan, and I know he knows that this is cutting me up inside.

  “I’m good,” I sigh quietly, glancing at my friend.

  “How the fuck did we get here?”

  I smile wryly. “Well, I drove.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “Smart ass.”

  “Life is fucking weird, man.” I sip my drink, closing my eyes for second to swallow it and let the darkness clouding my head drift away. “Who could’ve guessed we’d ever end up back in this damn town.”

  My phone buzzes, and I glance down to see a text from Quinn:

  Back home. Big Tony was getting something from Gino’s office and gave me a ride.

  Gray and I are silent for a moment, just sipping our drinks, before he clears his throat.

  “Her name is Zoe,” he mutters, and I know he means the girl — the one it seems I’ve correctly guessed about that he’s hiding from Dylan and me.

  “She’s a cam girl. Or, was.”

  I raise a brow. “Like, one of those online strippers?”

  Gray scowls at me. “Yeah, kinda.”

  I smile, shaking my head. “Well, shit. Mr. Stanford Law with the internet stripper and Mr. School of Hard Knocks with the boss’s wife.”

  My friend arches a sharp brow at me. “Is this you admitting it? About Quinn?”

  “I admit nothing, counselor.” I raise my glass before tossing back the scotch.

  “Careful, man,” Gray growls.

  “You know me.”

  “Exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  I grin, and I’m about to reach for more of his scotch, when suddenly, something clicks in my head. It’s like that little sixth sense for irregularities the the Marines drill into you comes burning to the surface.

  “This girl,” I say quietly. “Where’d you meet her? I mean in the real world.”

  He shrugs. “No where.”

  “Grayson.”

  “What?” he snaps.

  “She doesn’t live in your building, does she?”

  There it is. There’s the recognition in his eyes.

  “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

  For a lawyer, he can be a shit liar.
I blow air through my lips slowly, sinking back into the chair and shaking my head at him.

  “Fuck, dude.”

  If I’m right, and if this girl he’s found is who I think she is, the shit is about to hit the fan hard. Joey would be Joey Luco, a buddy and underling of Nico’s. I’ve only had the displeasure of having to work a job with him once, but his reputation throughout the Moretti family is pretty infamous. He’s like the sadistic qualities of Gino and the douchebag attitude of Nico, without any of their power or money. Which really just makes him more dangerous, because it means he’s hungry for it. He specializes in girls, and the fucker has a few of them doing shit for him all over this city — turning tricks, stripping, massage parlors, you name it.

  “Is she one of Joey’s girls?”

  Gray freezes, and that look on his face tells me I’m dead on.

  “You know about that?”

  “I don’t know-know, but, c’mon man, I hear things.” I level my eyes at him. “Fuck, Gray, is she — is Zoe…”

  “She’s just a cam girl,” he growls, an edge of warning in his voice. “It’s a way to make money.”

  “Yeah, for Joey fucking Luco.”

  Gray hisses out a swear and looks away.

  “Please tell me that wasn’t you that cold-cocked him the other day, was it?”

  Gray’s eyes snap to mine, and I shrug.

  “I heard it the other day from some of his guys after he showed up for a job with a fat bruise on his skull. He told everyone he fell, but one of them blabbed. Word is some guy in a ski-mask cold cocked him from behind.”

  Gray takes a large sip of his drink, and I swear.

  “You are in way over your fuckin’ head here.”

  “Leave it,” he growls.

  “The fuck I will. Gray, he’s after her.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Look, I’m just putting the pieces together. One of Joey’s girls, who he’s housing in your building, ditches out on him. You suddenly meet some sweet, sexy girl who happens to strip on webcam for money. And the next thing you know, some mysterious hero in a mask is pistol-whipping Joey Luco in the back of the head.”

  I jab a finger at him. “Joey is a mean motherfucker man. And he’s not just going to let this go.”

  His jaw tightens, and he suddenly pushes his glass across the desk and stands.

  “I have to go.”

  I tense as I stand too. “You want a hand?”