Caged: The Underground

All jokes aside, I realized I wanted her to know something. It was important enough for me to risk ruining the mood.

“I plan to run The Underground different than Davonte.”

Charlie stilled, dropping her hands into her lap as she processed my admission.

Finally, she said, “I know you would. It doesn’t change how I feel. That place killed my brother. I’ll never have any love for cage fighting.”

“It wasn’t the cage that killed your brother. He never should’ve been in the ring with his opponent. I want to bring The Underground to the surface and make it legit for kids who want that future, for real. I don’t plan to use and abuse them like Davonte does.”

She cast a wounded look at me for crashing our good morning but I needed her to know that I wasn’t like Davonte. My intentions were pure, even if she didn’t like them.

“What are you asking me, Damon?”

Hell, I didn’t know. Her forgiveness? Her understanding? Maybe both. “I just wanted you to know that I was different.”

Charlie inhaled a deep breath and said, “We should go.”

My cell rang and I checked the caller ID.

It was an unknown number.

I answered.

“Your contact was eager to cooperate. You weren’t blowing smoke up my ass.”

I mouthed, “It’s Terrance” to Charlie then said, “You two going to meet and discuss options?”

“Yes. She happens to like Thai food. I like her already.”

“Sounds like everything is falling into plan.”

“Yes, well, not everything is as neat and tidy as it seems.”

I quieted, my gut clenching. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what Terrance was about to say.

“Chantel had her own demands. I couldn’t say I disagreed.”

“Oh? What’s she want?” I would’ve thought Chantel happy with the idea of not having Davonte on her ass every month but I should’ve known Chantel would get greedy.

“She wants Davonte dead. Seems she’s got a personal beef with him.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” I asked, sweat starting to bead on my upper lip. I had a bad feeling.

“We need bait.”

Charlie.

“Your little woman will work perfectly.”

“No.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

I could feel Charlie becoming restless. She sensed my agitation.

“You’ll say you found his little runaway bitch and you’ll set up a negotiation. You’ll tell him that you are willing to trade her for ownership of The Underground. He’ll respond with threats but if he really wants the woman, he’ll try to arrange a meeting. When he does, give him the address I am texting to you now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The line went dead.

Charlie pounced. “You look like you’re ready to puke. What did he say?”

“He wants me to use you as bait to lure Davonte to a specific location.”

She paled. “What?”

“I told him no but he didn’t take my answer seriously.”

I quickly shared the rest of the details.

For a long moment Charlie simply sat there, thinking. Then she surprised me with a nod, saying, “I think he’s right. Davonte won’t quit. He never will. He’ll chase us forever and this is a way to put him where he belongs — in the ground.”

“You’re okay with leading a man to his death?” I asked.

“No. But Davonte isn’t a man. He’s an animal and yes, I’m okay with helping to put down a rabid beast. Frankly, it feels like a public service.”

I regarded Charlie with something close to wonder.

There wasn’t an ounce of reluctance in her clear-eyed gaze.

Charlie had already come to grips with the knowledge that Davonte was bad and the world would be a better place without him. I responded by kissing her hard, saying, “You’re a fucking bloodthirsty woman. Remind me to never to piss you off.”

She laughed against my lips. “You were right; you aren’t dumb, after all.”

Chapter 30

Charlie

Davonte fell in line easily with the plan.

The dumb fucker was so assured that he was untouchable that he didn’t even put up much of an argument when Damon presented the terms of the exchange.

Of course, Davonte didn’t actually plan to hand over The Underground to Damon, it was all smoke and mirrors.

We both knew that Davonte planned to kill Damon as soon as he produced me.

That’s where Terrance and Chantel came in.

And please, God, I hoped they didn’t fuck us in the end, because we were putting everything we had in their hands.

The address, an abandoned shoe factory, tagged with countless layers of graffiti, littered with trash left by vagrants and misfits, was the perfect place to commit a murder.

If I felt a tiny pinch of conscience at my part in all this, I squelched it.

I was doing this for Tommy, but also for myself.

Davonte was a sick individual. The world wouldn’t weep for his loss.

Maybe I was playing God, but what choice did I have if I wanted to survive on my own terms?

Besides, Davonte had created this karma, not me.

It was nearing dusk as we pulled up to the factory.

The atmosphere was creepy and I half expected a killer clown to emerge from the shadows to slice and dice all of us.

Clowns were fucking scary.

Whoever thought clowns were appropriate for kids’ parties had to have been on drugs.

I was babbling inside my own mind to take away from the fear lodged in my brain.

If I’d had anything in my stomach I would’ve crapped my pants with nervous diarrhea.

Thankfully, I hadn’t eaten much after we’d gotten the call from Terrance.

We were about to commit a crime.

Up until this point, I’d been the victim in Davonte’s game.

Now, I was an accessory.

I tried not to let fear scare me from my purpose.

A car rolled up and I instinctively reached for Damon’s hand, needing to hold onto him for courage.

He squeezed my hand gently, telling me silently that he was there and nothing would happen to me.

I took courage from his solid strength.

And even though I’d accused him of being no better than Davonte, I knew in that moment, he’d never been anything like Davonte.

Shame at being so blind curdled my insides.

Because unlike Davonte, Damon had no interest in spilling blood.

Even a rat like Davonte’s.

Davonte emerged from the car, walking into the waning

light of the factory’s first floor.

Accompanied by his usual henchmen, Davonte was smug in his belief that he couldn’t lose.

“Damon,” he tsked, looking as if he truly were disappointed by Damon’s supposed failure. “You really should’ve just stuck with my offer. You could’ve made a lot of money at my side.”

“Cut the shit, Davonte. You were going to kill me as soon as I delivered Charlie.”

Davonte spread his hands as if caught. “Guilty. But if it means anything, I was actually considering having you on the payroll. You’re an impressive guy. Just having you around might’ve been enough to make some men piss themselves. But in the end,” he gently tapped his healing nose “I just couldn’t let your disrespect go unpunished.”

Then Davonte’s gaze fell to Damon’s hand gripped in mine and his lip curled as he processed the scene. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this cute? Let me guess…you’re in love? Have I gotten between two star-crossed lovers? How fucking tragic. I think I might puke.”

I wanted to spit at Davonte but I remained quiet, too afraid to make a wrong move. Where were Terrance’s guys that were supposed to intercept Davonte before things got out of hand?

In the movies, the bad guy got taken out by the sniper or a hail of gunfire.

But we weren’t in a movie and a bad feeling had begun to creep up my neck.

“Charlene, I was going to make you my wife,” he said to me with a feigned air of sadness. I couldn’t contain the revulsion I felt. Davonte’s gaze hardened at my obvious rejection. “Now you’re going to be my whore. I’m going to chain you to my side and let the lowest of the low fuck you raw. How does that sound?”

I felt the low rumble of rage coursing through Damon at Davonte’s taunt and I silently begged Damon to remain calm. Davonte’s men had guns. We had nothing at this point because it was starting to look as if Terrance had backed out.

We were alone.

Damon and I both knew it. We could feel it in our bones.

We’d been set up.

Maybe Chantel had turned on us and Terrance had lost interest.

Panic drove at my brain.

If I didn’t do something, Damon was going to try and fight his way out of this and end up dead.