Risk It All

PROLOGUE As a kid, Brianna Wilcox struggled to make good choices. Perhaps because, back then, she left so many decisions up to her brother and now-ex-boyfriend. Their actions frequently got her embroiled in some mess that was nothing to do with her. That was supposed to change when she freed herself from both of them. Growing up with junkie parents had been tough. Her brother, Gary, got her through the difficult times until at high school, Gary met Blaser Warner, and her life had changed forever. After Blaser made his interest in her known, she hadn’t put up much of a fight. Why would she? Hot in all the right ways; bad in all the others. For a teenager, the prize didn’t get any more enticing. For months, they snuck around grabbing clandestine moments, worried what Gary would do when he found out they were together. As luck would have it, they’d been discovered on a dark night when the rain was pouring and the wind was howling. The weather, and rush of their own raging hormones, hid the sound of Gary’s approach. He’d ripped open the back door of Blaser’s truck and caught them semi-n***d. Denying it was impossible. The men fought, physically fought, which left her in tears and Gary needing stitches. Watching the two men she loved fighting tore her apart. In the months that followed, the feuding increased as had her internal conflict. She had really believed it would come down to a choice between the two men and she didn’t want to make that choice. Everything came to a head when Blaser discovered her secret. To get by after her parents took off, she’d started dancing in clubs for money. She loved the dancing but didn’t always love the patrons, especially those who tried to touch or loitered with intent outside the club. It didn’t help that the only places willing to take her were the ones who turned a blind eye to her age. If management was happy to ignore the fact that she was only seventeen, they were also happy to feign ignorance when the men paid the dancers for intimate services. Blaser caught her coming home from work one night. The second he registered her outfit, or lack of it, he flew off the handle, blaming Gary for their family’s need. Once again, the men were at each other’s throats. A few days after, they’d called a truce and held a meeting… without her. The first she knew about them getting along was Blaser pulling up outside to drop Gary off. The men talked for a few minutes, then her brother came inside. That’s when she got the story: Gary was boosting the cars, Blaser was chopping them. They were going to look after her and she would never have to work again. It was horrifying. After that she did everything in her power to talk the two out of their illegal business venture. Nothing would stop them; the alliance remained. Eventually, the men became the best of friends again and they settled into life together. Blaser and Gary did what they needed to support their trio. But it was more than that. Both of them seemed to like the money and the street cred that came with their success. Everything had muddled along for almost a decade until Blaser was arrested. She hadn’t been present for the crime, but she had been present when the cops took him from her bed, cuffed him, and took him in. From there, he pled guilty and was sent to prison. She promised to wait for him until, a few weeks into his sentence, he called her into visiting and ended their relationship. At the time, devastated, she tried to talk him out of it. He was adamant and went so far as to demand she get out of town, away from her brother and everyone in their lives. He told her to start over. And, not long later, that’s exactly what she did. Picking Jersey, she’d packed and left without telling a soul. She got a job and an apartment and for a long time, lived like any other Josie on the street, nothing special. Only she knew a part of her was missing. Five years after the relationship was over, she did the unthinkable and emailed Blaser. Much to her surprise, he emailed back, and communication began to flow. They moved onto phone calls, and she was delighted to hear he had straightened himself out and owned two legitimate businesses. After almost six months of emails and phone calls, they’d agreed to meet. Blaser was actually going to travel up to take her out for dinner. Bri was beyond caring if it was smart for them to open the can of worms again. The idea of seeing Blaser delighted her too much. So there she was, in the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. She had spent hours getting ready. Despite buying a new dress for the occasion, she tried on at least five others before settling on the new blue one that she’d spent too much money on. Although she’d arrived at the restaurant early, it hadn’t been her intention to be so premature. Their meeting place was in Atlantic City, which wasn’t her neighborhood. To be sure of finding it in time, she’d chosen to leave her apartment earlier than was probably necessary. She didn’t know how long the journey would take and didn’t want to leave her date waiting. Twenty minutes after the meeting time, he still hadn’t appeared. Worry that maybe he had changed his mind was quickly shaken off, Blaser wasn’t the type to leave her sitting there all night without any explanation. Maybe something terrible had happened. She slid out of the booth the maître d’ had put her in and made her way outside into the cool evening air. Her jacket was still at the table, so if Blaser went into the restaurant another way he would assume she was just in the ladies’ room or something. Her clutch was just big enough for the essentials, so she found her phone quickly. Striding away from the traffic on the street, she walked down a service alley to get away from the noise and passing foot traffic. Bowing her head close to the phone, reading her contacts, she scrolled through looking for Blaser’s number. She had just pressed send when something hot and moist closed over her mouth. Confused terror fired adrenaline through her system when another two thick arms circled her waist and she was hoisted off the ground. Her phone skittered out of her grasp as she tried to wrench the hand away from her mouth and punch back. Flailing her legs did nothing because the man holding her waist lifted her off the ground and clamped her knees together against him. Before she could count how many assailants there were in total, she was tossed into a van. Metal grated on metal signaling the door had been closed, and screeching tires heralded movement. Although she tried to get up from the cold metal floor, so dirty that grime smudged across her cheek, it was no good. A heavy foot landed on her ribcage and something that felt like rope was wound around her ankles and wrists. The man with his foot on her chest leaned down and stuck a strip of duct tape over her mouth. Widening her eyes, she tried to scream at the sight of the mask concealing his face. Another masked man sat toward the back of the van; he must have been the one to bind her. Two of them were in the back with her, but with the top of her head squashed against the back base of the front seats, she couldn’t see how many there were in total. The man standing on her chest increased his pressure then moved his foot away to sit on a seat that folded down from the van wall. He whipped off his mask to show ice-blue eyes glistening above a confident smile. “Don’t you worry yourself, beautiful,” he said. “I’m John, and I bet you’re wondering what the f**k this is about.” She mumbled, unable to do more. Her attempts to force out a scream were burning the back of her throat. Makeup blurred in her eyes, streams of it ran in hot rivers down her temples, some dripping into the shells of her ears. “You did nothing wrong, but a lot of girls I pick up for the boss done nothing wrong.” She couldn’t ask questions, but a million of them zinged through her. This wasn’t a standard street attack. The men hadn’t mugged her; they hadn’t groped her. They had grabbed her, bound her, and now she lay there in the back of this van helpless, on the road to God knew where. “I work for a guy called Victor, does that mean anything to you?” She managed to shake her head, freeing more tears. “Doesn’t surprise me, but see, someone you know did something to piss Victor off. And when people do that, he sends me out to pick up something valuable of theirs. You’re valuable… you’re valuable to a guy who is valuable to Victor.” How could she be associated with anyone connected to something like this? Her mind came up blank. Gary and Blaser were the only two people from her life involved in anything illegal. It had been years since she’d been a part of that world. Unless… could the fact she was talking to Blaser make her valuable to him in a way that might upset this Victor guy. She couldn’t believe it. Blaser had promised he was legitimate. He was a business owner mending bridges with his brothers, a real respectable guy. “What you come up with?” The guy bent lower. His grin made her recoil, she couldn’t believe he was grinning. It wasn’t like he enjoyed the moment, he seemed indifferent to his own words, yet his grin was smug. “I’ll give you a clue,” he said. She held her breath in anticipation, hoping she could put all this down to a misunderstanding. “Does the name Warner mean anything to you?” Her hope sank. “Ruger Warner?” Shock struck her immobile. Ruger was Blaser’s younger brother. He’d always been the secretive type, but not in an illegal activity type way. Yet there she was, bound and gagged because Blaser’s little brother pissed off a crime boss. No misunderstanding. She knew Ruger, and he’d delivered her into something far more sinister than anything she, Blaser, or Gary had ever been a part of. How the hell would this end?