Hart of Darkness Read online

  I jerked my head at her again. “Where you can find him?” The woman was going to give me an ulcer. “You’re not going anywhere near him.” Steam was coming out of my nostrils.

  “Listen to your boyfriend,” Dom said. “Nothing good can come out of you snooping into Miguel’s business.”

  Maggie pulled out a small notebook. “You got a name of any of his pimps?”

  My mouth was slightly ajar. Here I was, wrestling with everything Dom had said about Grace, and now I was going to have to tie Maggie up so she wouldn’t walk right into the mouth of a dragon.

  He sized Maggie up, puffing out his cheeks. “I’ve heard of reporters getting killed for information. But you won’t find any of them. The Black Knights are like ghosts, and you only know they’re there when it’s too late.”

  Maggie narrowed her eyes.

  I swiped my hand over her leg. “Easy, baby.”

  Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her pen. “Do you know the name Dallas?”

  Dom flinched. “Please tell me you don’t know him.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. “We only heard the name earlier tonight. What do you know about him?”

  “On the streets, he’s known as Dallas,” Dom said. “But Fi’s friend mentioned the man who had been breaking her in, so to speak, wanted her to call him Cory.”

  Maggie’s jaw hit the floor.

  Suddenly, the web Maggie and I were untangling just got stickier, and whether the Black Knights, Cory, and Grace intersected somehow, one thing was certain. It was time I paid my brother Duke a visit.

  23

  Maggie

  I gaped at the ceiling fan in a guest bedroom at Dillon’s house, watching it spin around and around and around. It felt as if my brain were on that fan as it too spun around and around and around. When Dom had said Cory’s name, I’d literally almost peed in my thong. Misty had mentioned Cory’s name, but she hadn’t been one hundred percent sure of his involvement with the gang. Dom seemed sure.

  I wondered if Ted knew the name Dallas. I would bet that was the reason Ted couldn’t connect Cory to anything.

  I’d tried to force Dom to give me more information on Fi’s friend so I could question her. He wouldn’t budge, though. His sister, Fi, wouldn’t either. I respected them for maintaining the woman’s privacy. Yet I wanted to blast the hell out of the Black Knights. The more I uncovered about the gang, the more my revenge wasn’t only about Cory anymore. I wanted all men like Cory to pay for what they’d done to women.

  From the bar to Dillon’s house, I’d been a zombie. Even when we walked in, I’d had no words. We were both dumbfounded for different reasons.

  I climbed out of bed. I’d asked him if I could stay in his guest room. He hadn’t tried to coax me into his bed, and he hadn’t come onto me. Instead, he’d been a gentleman. After showing me where the bathroom and towels were located, he’d walked me to my room. A part of me had wanted him to ask me to stay with him.

  But the main reason I’d wanted to stay at his house was the quiet. I wanted to think without the distraction of the engines, horns, and voices that filled the city streets outside my apartment window. I was failing in that department. I couldn’t quiet my mind.

  I tiptoed out of my room, trying not to wake Dillon, who was sleeping one door down from the bathroom. Once inside, I splashed water on my face. The nightlight provided ample light for me to see that I was beginning to develop bags under my eyes. I really needed to stop working eighteen-hour days.

  I patted my face with a towel, combed my fingers through my long blond hair, and rifled through how to prove Cory Calderon was the scum I knew he was.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. “Mirror, mirror, on the wall, how do I get hardcore facts on Cory once and for all?” I whispered.

  The first idea that came to mind was to share the news with Ted. He might’ve heard of the name Dallas and had evidence on Cory’s alias. I could also get Dom on record to confirm that Cory was involved with the Black Knights. But Dom wasn’t the actual witness. He only knew the name, and it wasn’t a strong enough fact that would stick, especially since Cory’s father had money to sue the paper if I didn’t have concrete facts like a description of Cory.

  The other option swimming around in my head was to put myself out there as a prostitute. That would get me concrete evidence. Otherwise, I would be searching for years, and I didn’t want to wait forever. The problem I had, though, was that girls no longer walked a city corner, waiting for a john. The pimps now did all the bidding for the girls. They chose the customer. They chose the hotel. All a girl had to do was dress up pretty and wait in some sleazy hotel room or…

  The proverbial light bulb came on. Nadine had been at a house, not a hotel room. I should start there. Maybe the gang was stupid enough to return to the house on Bleven and Third. Maybe I could find some clue as to where Miguel lived. Or maybe I could find out who owned the house and follow the money trail. I mentally slapped myself for not thinking about this long before now.

  I ironed a hand down my wrinkled shirt. I hadn’t even undressed when I flopped on the bed an hour ago. Dillon and I had gotten back to his house around two a.m. No sooner had he shown me to my room than he disappeared in his.

  I imagined he had his own war to fight after discovering that Grace was alive two weeks ago, according to Dom. I was beginning to believe that she didn’t want her family to know she was alive, which irked me if that were true. She had a brother who loved her, a family. Granted, the Hart clan was a dysfunctional bunch, but nonetheless, she had a family. The contents of the envelope Ted had given me with my mom’s address inside were beginning to weigh heavily on me. Everywhere I went seemed to remind me of family.

  I quietly went back to the guest room and snatched my messenger bag. Then I pulled out a pen and paper and scribbled down a note for Dillon.

  I’m sorry, but I have to find facts. I’ll call you later. XO, Maggie.

  I folded the note as I slinked down the hallway then slipped it underneath his door. I was tempted to peek inside, but I didn’t trust myself not to crawl into bed with him.

  My first stop was the house on Bleven and Third. At three in the morning, no one would see me.

  I prowled down the stairs like a cat burglar, stopping on each one, praying it didn’t creak. When I reached the front door, I let out a soft sigh.

  As soon as I pulled open the door, a screeching siren blared.

  Wincing, I shouted all kinds of expletives in my head.

  Damn alarm.

  Dillon flew down the stairs in nothing but his underwear, with a gun drawn on me.

  Out of habit, I lifted my hands, an act I’d been used to when the cops would break up a gang fight and bring me down to the police station.

  “What the fuck, Maggie?” He lowered his gun, slammed the door, and ran down the hall to punch in the alarm code.

  At that moment, I realized I hadn’t thought my plan through because my car was at the shelter and not at Dillon’s house.

  Stupid me.

  I dropped my bag on the floor and ambled into the kitchen, holding my ears.

  The blaring suddenly ceased at the same time Dillon flicked on the overhead lights.

  I didn’t know what was worse, the siren or the lights. I blinked a couple of times to adjust my vision. When the kitchen became crystal clear, so did Dillon.

  I couldn’t help but drag my gaze over his scrumptious body. Holy cannoli. That hair of his was wild and crazy. His cheeks were red. His eyes were sleepy, and he stood in his boxer briefs holding a gun at his side. If the looks of him weren’t enough to get me soaked, then the semi-erection he was sporting sure was.

  He pointed the gun at the table. “Sit.” His voice was anything but sleepy.

  I stood my ground at the arched doorway, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Maggie, you’re not going anywhere until we talk.”

  Or maybe have sex on the kitchen table.

  He scratched his head
before massaging his fingers through his hair. Then he deposited the gun on top of the fridge. “I’ll make some coffee.”

  Now he was talking my language. I waltzed over to the table, parked my butt in a chair, and continued to admire the man while he made quick work of getting the coffeepot ready. “I can’t sleep.” As soon as I said that, I yawned, and it happened to be right when he glanced over his shoulder.

  “Try again,” he said.

  “I need to go into the paper. I have work to do.” I wasn’t lying exactly.

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  To lie or not to lie. You like him. You probably like him more than you think. You’re an upfront kind of gal. Tell him the truth. Plus, if you want to go anywhere, you’ll need him to drive you.

  When the coffeepot started gurgling, Dillon didn’t move from the counter. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin. He didn’t care that his hair was sticking up in all directions. He didn’t care that his penis was growing by the second, the longer he looked at me. He probably didn’t know that he could win the annual People Magazine award for the sexiest man alive.

  Regardless, the longer he ogled and the longer I didn’t answer him, the more the butterflies came alive. He was someone I could date. He was someone I could love. In that moment, the word love didn’t scare me.

  “I’m waiting,” he said, breaking my trance.

  The coffeemaker continued to drip, and the aroma filled the room.

  “What are we doing?” I asked.

  He cocked his head.

  I waggled a finger between us. “You and me.”

  We liked each other. We were attracted to each other.

  “We’re helping each other,” he said.

  “We’re also having sex,” I added.

  He grinned as though he was remembering our night together. “And?”

  And you’re worming your way into my heart.

  The coffeemaker murmured one last time before it beeped.

  He filled two cups then brought them to the table. “Not sure if you take yours black or not.”

  Black and strong was perfect.

  He dragged a chair out and folded his muscular body into it. “What’s really going on, Maggie?”

  I took a sip of coffee. “I feel like I haven’t accomplished shit in my life.” That was the truth. “I feel like I’m pissed off at the world. I want revenge so bad, I can taste it. Yet when I see all the great things you do for the shelter and how big your heart is for those girls, I hate myself.” Another truth. Whether it was the coffee, the time of night, or the realization that Cory was working for the Black Knights, I didn’t care. It felt amazing to get that off my chest.

  “I’m not a saint,” he said.

  I wanted to say, You act like a saint and look like a god. But I refrained from spewing those words only because I wanted to hear more of what he had to say. So I drank more coffee.

  He kicked out his bare legs and sat back with no evidence of an erection. “I don’t see myself with a big heart. I opened that shelter hoping Grace would walk through the door. As angry as you are at Cory, I’m a little furious with Grace if she is alive, and if I’m being honest, I’m hurt that she hasn’t bothered to reach out to me. I’m pissed off at my old man for being drunk and driving away my mom when I was a kid. I have a love-hate relationship with my older brother, Duke. I blame him for Grace, but I blame myself more. We all have problems, Maggie, that will test our resolve. There’s nothing wrong with you feeling the way you do. But instead of freaking out about things, especially about you and me, let nature take its course.”

  “Says the pot calling the kettle black,” I added. “You’re the one who wanted to leave feelings at the door.”

  He pursed his lips. “Mmm. And you’re the one who said, ‘I’m not into relationships, short or long. I hook up with a man, and then I walk away. No strings.’ Right?”

  He had me there.

  He dragged his chair closer to me, then his hands were on my legs. “We’re both dealing with some serious stuff. So let’s take one day at a time.”

  I frowned.

  He pinched my chin as he guided me to look at him. “Hey, where’s that strong, confident, and beautiful woman I know?”

  I laughed and blushed at the same time. Actually, I almost shed some tears. I gave myself a mental shake. I’d never gotten emotional over a man before. I felt as though Dillon was rejecting me, when I was the one who’d pushed him away.

  Sleep. That was what I needed. I also needed to change the subject. We were walking into deep waters, and he was spot-on. Whatever was happening between us, we needed to let nature take its course.

  “So I want to go over to that house where I found Nadine.”

  He leaned back. “That’s why you were sneaking out? And are you mad? The cops probably have that place under surveillance.”

  All that tension, lust, and emotional conversation vaporized.

  “Dillon, my way of helping women is to tell their stories and not just stick it to Cory, but to end the Black Knights once and for all.” I knew other sex-trafficking groups existed out there. I knew that girls would still be vulnerable to the charms of bad men. I knew that runaway girls usually pimped themselves out for food and a warm bed. Still, as a reporter, I had the opportunity to warn them.

  He batted his sleepy eyes at me. “Baby, I admire you for that. But you heard Dom. Nothing good can come of you snooping. And let’s not forget Denim. By the way, I’m a little perturbed that you didn’t tell me you knew who the leader of the Black Knights was. I could’ve warned Denim.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I never meant for Denim to get hurt.” If I had the chance to talk to Denim again, I would apologize.

  “I’m not upset so much about Denim. He and I knew he was walking into dangerous territory. What irks me is that we’re supposed to be working together. You should’ve told me you knew about Miguel.”

  My stomach pitched, not only because Denim had gotten hurt, but more because I’d upset Dillon. He was worried about me. I’d repeatedly bragged about how I could take care of myself. Maybe it was time I let someone take care of me. I liked when Dillon had said, “I got you.” He cared. He really cared.

  I wasn’t going to argue with him. He was right. We’d agreed to work together, and I had put his brother in harm’s way. “I should’ve. I didn’t want to break Ted’s trust. So do you have something in mind if you don’t want me snooping at that house?” Which I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t do.

  He rose, his muscles bunching as he held out his hand. “Come on.”

  “I’m not going back to bed.” Maybe I would if it was your bed.

  “It’s time we pay Duke a visit. I think he’s back in town now.”

  I let him help me to my feet. “We? What does he have to do with the Black Knights?”

  “He might know something about the Black Knights, given his reputation with criminals. And Dom said something earlier tonight that makes me believe Duke knows more about Grace’s situation than he cares to tell me. We can kill two birds with one stone.”

  “Seriously? At three in the morning?” I remembered Duke, the oldest of the Hart brothers, and the asshole in the bunch. He’d broken Lou’s nose in one of our encounters. Despite that, Dillon wasn’t getting any arguments out of me.

  “The timing is perfect. If we can catch him off guard, he might reveal more. Who knows? Maybe he’ll fix us breakfast.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  He laughed. “You haven’t seen crazy yet.”

  24

  Dillon

  The front door of the skyscraper was locked, and a security guard was dozing just inside the entrance, his double chin hitting his chest. He wasn’t the same bellman who had been working the day I’d shown up to visit Duke.

  “Duke lives here?” Maggie asked in awe.

  I knocked on the glass to get the chubby guard’s attention. “Crime pays.” I banged again. “He started out as a loan shark a
nd bookie. I think he’s into money laundering, although I can’t confirm that, and the only legitimate business that probably helps him afford this ritzy abode is his nightclub.” Duke didn’t talk to me at all about his businesses or how much he made. Frankly, I didn’t want to know. The less I knew, the less I could throw him under the bus with the cops if it ever came to that.

  “Huh,” she mumbled.

  The tired guard strutted toward us with a scowl. He was mad at us for waking him, when he should have been protecting the lavish building.

  “Let me handle him,” Maggie said. “Try to look distraught. I hate to say this, but act like Grace died.”

  Hearing that was more of a blow than I would have expected as my gut cinched. The reality was she could be dead.

  The elder man had Daniels embroidered on his uniform shirt. “Is this an emergency?”

  I schooled my features, hoping I came across as upset over Grace’s death. Actually, it wasn’t hard to do since I sometimes had those morbid thoughts.

  Maggie tucked her long and very curly hair behind her ear. I was digging how she’d worn her hair loose around her shoulders instead of in a braid.

  “I’m so sorry, Officer Daniels.” Maggie sounded downcast. “Mr. Hart here has to see his brother. We found out an hour ago that their sister is in the hospital.”

  Daniels eyeballed me. “Grace is in the hospital?” He sounded as though he’d seen her only four hours ago.

  My whole body wobbled. The fucking security guard knew my sister.

  I applauded Maggie for not reacting.

  Daniels opened the door wider. “Come in. I’ll call up to Mr. Hart’s penthouse.”

  He’d said “Mr. Hart” as if Duke were some earl, prim and proper. I wanted to puke on the shiny waxed floor.

  Daniels locked us in then hurried over to the phone on the desk he’d been sleeping behind.

  Maggie took in the lobby as if she were in an art gallery. The walls were littered in ugly geometric art. At least it wasn’t my taste. I liked pictures and paintings of landscapes. They gave me the sense of faraway escapes that I could dream about.