Beck: Hollywood Hitman (19 page)

“Security is thick tonight,” Lane said, and took a sip of her drink. “Good thing. You can’t believe the letters I get and I’m not even an actor. So many threats. It’s crazy.”

Natalie nodded. It
was
crazy. She couldn’t understand why anyone would want to threaten her just because she was an actress.

Her phone buzzed and she flipped it over. Rico’s number popped onto the screen. Deep breath. She still hadn’t decided what to do about the tape and the money and basically his extortion. She glanced toward Beck.

She hadn’t told him what Rico wanted or why. Damn, telling her new boyfriend that her old boyfriend was attempting to extort money from her to prevent the release of a sex tape was not on her top ten list of conversations to have with Beck. She took a long drink of her champagne and emptied the flute. A server immediately took the empty and put another in her hand.

“Thank you,” she said, and took another long drink. Just let her get through the premiere. There were at least five hundred people at this party and she needed to be here, smile, talk to the executives and the producers, and then she could thankfully go home. With Beck. Her gaze trailed over to him and her sex tightened with the memory of what they’d done earlier and what they’d do later this evening.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you say, Ari, she’s my daughter and if I want to see her I will.”

Natalie’s spine stiffened. She knew that voice. Her stomach knotted, a horrible, oily feeling in the pit of her gut. Natalie jumped to her feet and turned.

Beck was already standing beside Ari, who stood in front of Daddy, who was beside what looked to be a worn-out Vegas stripper. Daddy’s eyes met Natalie’s.

“Baby, come on, it’s your dear old dad. Let me come over and say hello.”

“Nat, don’t fall for that,” Stacia whispered in her ear.

Natalie’s heart heaved. She wanted Daddy to be attentive and loving, the way other fathers were, absent the ulterior motives.

“Hi, Daddy,” Natalie said, and moved toward her father and his latest piece of eye candy. “Are you having a good time?” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He reeked of alcohol.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her close. His hot breath pulsed against her ear. “Listen you little bitch,” he whispered, “either you give me the money I need or I’m taking it. Are we clear?”

Natalie’s bottom lip trembled. Why was she scared of this man? Why was he grabbing her by the arm and not letting her go? Why was she letting him treat her in a way she didn’t let anyone treat her? Because this man, no matter how pathetic or how mean, was her father, her only dad. She put up with a lot from Daddy because of his role in her life.

“Daddy, you’re hurting me,” she said softly.

“I’ll hurt you even more, you little whore, if you don’t give me my cut.” He yanked her arm and she pulled free. She stepped back, and a giant red mark decorated the spot where his hand had been.

“What the hell, Jerry?” Ari looked from Natalie’s arm to her father’s face. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

“Leave? Fuck you, Ari, I’m not leaving until I get what’s mine.”

Natalie closed her eyes. Hadn’t she been afraid of just exactly this?

Beck was by her side. “You okay?” She nodded. “I’m going to take care of this quickly and quietly.” Beck, with three other Greystone operatives, moved toward her dad. There was a shuffle of people and some grappling. Natalie got bumped and pushed to the side.

“Miss Warner.” Natalie turned, and two giant guys dressed in suits with earpieces stood in front of her. “Come with us, please. Security protocol dictates that we place you in a more secure location until this threat has been contained.”

She nodded and looked toward Stacia, who stood on the other side of the fray whispering to Lane.

Natalie followed one of the men into the back of the theater with the other close to her heels. They turned a corner to the left into a narrow concrete hallway.

Her stomach turned. This wasn’t right . . . something was off. She glanced over her shoulder to the big guy behind her. He was big and thick, but he didn’t look like the other Greystone guards she’d met.

“Wait, where are we supposed to meet the rest of my detail? Are you two with the studio?”

The second security guard, who was bigger than the first, filled the hallway behind her. She glanced to his face. Her heart thudded. Was that a tattoo on his neck . . . and the shirt didn’t really fit . . .

“Maybe we should go back,” she said softly, and tried to walk past him. A hand cupped over her mouth, and before she could say anything more darkness closed in around her.

***

“We’ve got him contained and we’re escorting him to a car,” King said. Beck cut back through the crowd toward Stacia. Natalie had been just beside her and Lane MacAvoy when Natalie’s dad started acting like an ass.

“Where’s Natalie?”

Stacia’s eyes widened. She looked to her left and her right. Her mouth dropped open.

Beck’s belly tightened. A hard cold feeling flew through his body. Adrenaline pounded through his blood.

“Remi,” he said into his mouthpiece, his gaze scanning the room filled with Los Angeles beautiful people but missing one very important star. “We’ve got a problem.”

Moments later, Beck burst through the door that led to the back of the theater. Jax flanked him. They ran down the hall with their hands under their jackets, ready to draw should they need. God, please, just let her be in the bathroom. Fallon and the other female studio security had checked all the restrooms but one.

“Take the left, I’ve got right.” They both moved along the wall of the theater to the back. They met again at the entrance to a hall that Beck knew from the security plans led to a loading dock at the back of the theater. He zipped down the hall.

His eyes landed on something silver. He stopped and picked it up.

Fuck no.

He flipped it over. Not Natalie’s phone. He pressed the button and a picture lit up the screen, a picture that made his stomach churn and fury course through his blood.

A picture of Natalie with duct tape over her mouth and her hands bound and a look of fear in her eyes. A look he’d never wanted to see.

“Get Remi,” Beck said. “We’ve got to get this phone to Zeb at Greystone.”

***

Natalie’s head hurt. A copper taste on her tongue . . . had she drunk that much at the premiere party? She tried to reach her hand to her mouth but she couldn’t. Her hands . . . her hands were strapped behind her back and—

“There she is, there’s our girl. Look, Rico, she’s waking up.”

Natalie’s eyelids fluttered open. Pain ripped through her shoulders and chest. Her calf muscles cramped tight. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. A light in a far corner cast a shadowy glow around the room.

Her hands were pulled behind her back and the chair to which she was tied pressed into her shoulder blades and her thighs. Across the room . . . the bloody pulp of a face. Nearly unrecognizable.

“Rico?” she whispered.

His head bobbed, but he couldn’t even lift it. A hand snaked out from the dark and grasped Rico’s black hair, yanking his limp head upward. “That’s not nice, buddy—the lady is talking to you.”

Bile pulsed up the back of her throat. Rico’s face was a disaster of blood and broken flesh. His eyes were swollen shut and his entire face bloody and bruised. Natalie’s stomach churned.

“Our boy isn’t feeling so good. Hard for him to talk. We may have busted a few teeth.”

“Wh-where am I?” Natalie raised her head and shook her hair over her shoulder. She sat straighter. Fear clutched her insides, but she tried desperately to channel her inner badass when what she really wanted to do was cry.

“You’re exactly where I want you,” said the voice.

A chill rushed down her spine. God . . . where . . . how . . . her breathing shortened. This was bad. This was very bad.

“I . . . I have your money. I swear I do.”

“My money?

Natalie nodded. “For Rico. I promised . . . I’ve liquidated some assets and—”

A sharp laugh sliced the darkness. “Yes, Rico, he believed this was about the money as well. About me wanting to buy some very naughty films that the two of you made.” The same hand grasped Rico’s black hair and lifted his head. “You see how well that turned out for Mr. Rico, do you not?”

Terror stopped the scream in Natalie’s throat from crossing her lips. Blood streamed from Rico’s nose.

“You . . . this isn’t about his gambling debt . . . this isn’t—”

The sound of shoes on concrete, and then a hand reached out of the darkness and fingertips pressed to her jaw. He grasped her chin and tilted her face toward him.

“No, my precious little beauty, this has nothing to do with gambling nor your disappointing choice in men. This has everything to do with who you are now and who you will be once I’ve finished.” He turned her face from side to side. “Your skin is spotless. You are perfect in every way.”

The chill turned into an ice-cold tremble that radiated through her body.

“I’m so pleased that Rico’s friend caused no permanent damage to your face. Makes my job all the more pleasurable.”

“No . . .” Bile churned in her stomach. “What . . . what are you . . . who are you? What are going to do?”

“Oh, darling, I am going to do what I’ve longed to do to that exquisite face since the first time I saw you. I believe you were nine.” His fingertips brushed across her cheekbone. “I couldn’t then. Oh no, I had to wait . . . wait until your face was perfect, the moment was perfect. The fact that you’re nearing the pinnacle of your success makes this all the more pleasurable. What a message we’ll send to the world once I’ve finished with you.” He pressed his fingertip to her nose the way one might a child when giving them a treat.

“Who . . . who are you?”

“You’ve met Estrella Leone?”

Fear, a hollow and cold thing, threaded through her body. Her mouth froze; she couldn’t make words. She shook her head. No . . . it couldn’t be . . . they’d promised that they’d catch him, that he’d never get near her, that—

“Darling, if you’ve met Estrella Leone, then you’re familiar with my work.”

“Your . . . your work.” The words came out on a terrified whisper.

“I am an artist of the flesh, my love. I leave my mark. I tell the world of your sins. You become a walking reminder to the world, through your pain, of what must happen to the whores that are destroying our world. Our women. You, my precious, are one of those whores. But I will purify you. I will purify your flesh through your pain.”

“No . . . no . . . I . . . you can’t—”

His grasp tightened around her chin. A sudden burst of rage. “Do not tell me what I can do!” he shouted through the room, his anger bouncing against the walls. “Shut your filthy mouth.”

He bent down and his face was in the light now. Fury filled his eyes. Was this the face of evil? Smooth cut jaw, black eyes, grey hair. He looked as though he could be her neighbor in the Hollywood Hills or a school teacher, so unremarkable was his appearance aside from the long scar above his eyebrow. He yanked her face close to his. “You will listen to me. You will obey. You will no longer be a jezebel. I will carve the future of our society, a bright and glorious future which entails women being the purity on earth that our God intended. I will carve God’s dominion into your skin so the world will know what happens to whores like you.”

She closed her eyes. No, no, no this couldn’t be happening. How was this happening?

“But first, before we begin, you must be purified.” He stepped back and the two goons who’d grabbed her at the premiere party walked into the room. Two women with shorn heads and wearing white robes walked behind them. They kept their heads bent toward the floor.

“Do not speak, do not utter a sound, or you will be punished.”

One of the men untied her and lifted her to her feet. Natalie couldn’t feel her legs or her feet. She could barely stand, she could barely walk. Her gaze slid to Rico. Was he alive? Was he awake? Would he still be alive when she returned?

“Don’t worry, my love, he will not die today. He will die slowly while I place my marks upon your flesh.”

The thugs grabbed her arms and pulled her along behind the two women, and she followed them into the darkness ahead.

Chapter Twenty-four

“I can’t get anything from the phone. It’s a burner with a photo. That’s it.” Zeb shook his head. “We’re going through security footage now, but there are hours of it and the camera in the back of the theater was disabled.”

Beck pulled his hand through his hair. Standing in the middle of Greystone waiting for some bit of a lead was driving him over the edge.

“Cops are on it too,” Remi said. “Not pleased with Worldwide’s decision to keep everything quiet.”

“I bet not,” Jax said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do we know it’s Palook?” Beck asked.

“It’s Palook,” Remi said. “The photo? Before he harms her? That’s his message to Estrella. To us. He knows Estrella runs Greystone . . . he’s taunting her, goading her, trying to finish what he started.”

“Which is . . .?”

Remi raised an eyebrow and didn’t speak. His nostrils flared and he turned back to Zeb. “There has to be some sort of lead on that phone. Prints. Digits. Something. Nothing is that clean.”

“We need to go see the ex-boyfriend,” Beck said. “There was something going down between them—”

“Sure this isn’t personal emotions talking there, cowboy?” Jax asked.

Beck locked his gaze on Jax. Not the time, not now. “I’m sure. She mentioned him and something he wanted but never let loose the whole story. I want to go shake that tree. See if we can’t find some detail, a lead, anything.” Beck swept his gaze from Jax to Zeb to Remi.

“Go.” Remi said. “If we find something here, we’ll let you know, but right now time isn’t on our side and we need to chase down every possibility. Take Jax.”

Beck shot Remi a cold look.

“He knows Rico’s world. You’ll be glad you have him.”

“Come on, cowboy, let’s go. Not everybody got to get their stripes the old-fashioned way.”