Death Layer (The Depraved Club) by Celia Loren, Colleen Masters Read Free Book Online

scar.
“Your dog was a pussy and your boy is dead, which means you still owe me seven
million. I sincerely hope you’ve come to settle your account. Otherwise, your
night might just go from bad to worse.”
    Mr. King is licking his lips. I’ve never seen him agitated
like this before. He extends the paperwork that I spent the afternoon typing
up. “Here, Jack. It’s the deal we discussed. One hundred thousand shares, the
property in Newark, and the shell company.”
    Jack snaps his fingers. One of the leather-clad giants at
his side steps forward and takes the papers from Mr. King, walking them over to
the desk and laying them out. With a terrifying squint, Jack moves his gaze
from my boss to my documents and starts to read.
    A clock ticks on the wall. My nerves are stretched thin. I
swivel my head and see it’s a grandfather clock with a skeleton figure at the
top and the same letters, D.L.
    “Hmm.” Jack stirs, fixing his gray eyes back on Mr. King. He
smiles and starts to laugh, and Mr. King smiles back. Then Jack’s face goes
hard and he rips up the papers. Mr. King blanches. “No deal, King. Looks like
you still owe me. Which is how I like it.”
    “What do you mean, no deal?” It’s the first time I’ve heard
Mr. King angry. “The contract is perfect.”
    The giant bouncers step forward and Mr. King grinds his teeth,
cowed.
    “No deal,” Jack repeats. He leans back in his chair.
“Shares? I don’t want shares. I’m still shopping around with you and Skollz
Corp. Meanwhile, you can pay some installments. You know what I trade in.”
    “You’re making a mistake.”
    “You’re not in a position to object.”
    Mr. King’s jaw is twitching and I’m literally shaking. I
don’t know what the problem is, but I want the hell out of here.
    “Mr. King,” I whisper, “Perhaps a counter-offer?”
    He looks at me then, his eyes flickering. “You think so, Clark?
You want to know what he trades in?”
    Jack is smirking at me. He mouths a word I can’t understand.
My skin is crawling.
    “What?” I turn to Mr. King.
    “Flesh,” shouts Jack with a dirty laugh. “Peachy white flesh
like hers is pretty high in demand, King. Red pussy. She a natural?”
    “She’s natural.”
    My stomach sinks and my blood runs cold. I think of possible
escape routes and the long grungy path to this room, but fight or flight kicks
in and I twitch to run, but Mr. King’s arms close around me in a vice.
    “Easy,” Mr. King whispers. “Easy, Clark.” He turns back to
Jack. “You are suggesting I leave my assistant with you as a payment? This is
not the type of arrangement we had discussed.”
    “She’s kinda skittish though,” Jack observes dryly. The
bouncers laugh. Now I can’t feel my hands, I’m so scared. Jack smacks the belly
of the bouncer standing next to him, laughing at a private joke. “She’d do
nicely for Bane.”
    The snickering grows louder.
    “Mr. King—Vincent.” I barely recognize my own panicked
voice. “Get me out of here now, please. Please. Vincent. This isn’t funny.”
    “No, it’s not.” He agrees. He stares at me for a moment,
computing, and mutters something under his breath. He turns to Jack, resigned.
“What’s the going rate for a redhead these days?”
    “Vincent!”
    “Oh, I’d knock off say…fifty thousand?”
    “What?” I shout. “This isn’t real, this can’t be real!”
    Mr. King is holding me up. He looks at me with those sexy
eyes, now cold, and shakes his head.
    “I’m sorry Clark,” he murmurs. “For what it’s worth, I
wasn’t planning on this. You were a promising assistant.” He kisses my cheek
and releases his grasp on me, turning to face Jack. “Consider this transfer of
assets a show of good faith.”
    Consternation and shock render me senseless. “What?!”
    “Goodbye Clark.”
    “You can’t leave me here,” I screech. “You can’t just sell
people! Rachel will know! People know I was with you! They’ll know it was you!
They’ll