In a Bad Way
Bad Boys of the Bay book four
by Karin Tabke
Copyright Information
In a Bad Way by Karin Tabke
Copyright © 2015 Karin Tabke LLC.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9881879-8-6
Editor: Christina Trevaskis
Copy Editor: Martha Trachtenberg
Cover Design: VMC Art & Design
Ebook Production: Austin Brown
V102115AMZ
This book is an original publication of Karin Tabke LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission from the copyright owner.
Dedication
First and foremost I must thank Tina not only for her friendship but for her belief in me as a writer. IN A BAD WAY would not be the amazing story it is had she not pushed me to work harder, go deeper, and not get lazy. Xo
Virna, as always, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to be the first set of eyes on my ugly pages. Martha, the Mistress of Shred, thank you for always taking my pages and for making them better. Victoria, another beautiful cover! Austin, thank you for taking me on and hanging in there with me. (good job Josie and Martin!)
To my husband, thank you for helping me out with those tough action scenes but more so, thank you for always being ever so tolerant of your krazy wife the romance novelist.
To my readers, thank you for your support and patience while I gave Izzy and Flynn the story they deserved. These two are so very much worth the wait. I love them and know you will too.
~Karin
xo
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
NOVELS BY KARIN TABKE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CONNECT WITH KARIN ONLINE
DISCOVER OTHER TITLES BY KARIN TABKE
Chapter One
“Vilde Style, you get promotion tonight.”
Isadora Marisol Fuentes Chastain (the Chastain was silent), aka “Wild Style” on the nights she cocktailed at the Surf’s Up strip club, looked up at Andre the Giant (Russians were so not original), so named because he was nearly seven feet tall and not loaded with a full deck.
Sitting at her dressing table where she’d been applying a liberal coat of pink sparkly lip gloss over bubble gum-flavored lips, Izzy showed no outward emotion. Inwardly, she cringed, knowing what a promotion meant.
“What kind of promotion?”
Andre held her gaze in the mirror. If he wasn’t such a hard-assed dick and he cleaned up his act a little bit, he might actually be a catch, not that the girls didn’t throw themselves at him already. He was tall, but his features weren’t distorted like some people as large as he was. And for all intents and purposes, he looked out for them. “You have good tits, round ass. You entertain cops in private room tonight. Do good job, I make you Tits of Month.”
Lucky her. Tits of the Month got her twenty percent more of her tips and her name on the Tits of the Month board by the front bar. For that extra twenty percent, she was required to take off her top, and provide lap dances with a smile for private parties. She shivered again and reminded herself why she was there. Big picture, Izzy, big picture.
“Thanks.” The urge to bolt grabbed hold of her. Instead, acting nonchalant, she popped a piece of bubble gum into her mouth and started to chew loudly. “It’s about damn time, Andre. I have bills to pay, you know, and humping for a measly forty percent of my tips doesn’t go far.”
“You make more in tips on floor than all girls do taking top off.”
Okay, that was true. But that didn’t mean it was good money. Robbery was what it was. Most of the girls were worn-out addicts angling for their next fix money or so anti-male it oozed from every pore. Isadora wasn’t a big fan of the opposite sex, but she didn’t play for the same team like so many of the dancers did. Because she wasn’t spoiled or soiled goods, and despite her disdain for men, especially the type that frequented strip joints, Isadora was fresh meat in a rotten container. That was going to change as soon as she got what she came for.
Andre’s dark eyes narrowed and he crossed his big arms over his wide chest. Continuing to hold her gaze in the mirror he said, “You want big money?”
She blew a bubble that popped on her nose, and as she pulled it off, she said, “You know, Andre, for a guy with such a big head, one would think you had a big brain in there. Of course I want big money!”
“You make video, Boris pay big money.”
Oh, no, no, no, no. She hadn’t signed up for porn. That was a line she wasn’t going to cross. “What kind of video?”
“With cop. I give you pill. You put in drink, he gets whoo-whoo. Take him to hotel and make video. He remembers nothing.”
Izzy shrugged and puckered her lips, looking at herself in the mirror as if she was asked to drug a cop and make a sex video every day. That was asking for all kinds of trouble. Not that anyone would recognize her. She went a long way to camouflage the real Isadora Fuentes. By day she was a struggling college student, by night a bikini-clad cocktail server who had just been promoted to stripper at the Surf’s Up club in San Francisco’s notorious Tenderloin district.
“I appreciate the offer, and the Tits of the Month moniker, but I’m going to pass on them both.”
Andre yanked off her blue spike wig and grabbed a fistful of her hair, wrenching her neck so far back she cried out in pain.
“You want job?” he growled.
“Just the cocktailing part,” she gasped, standing as he pulled harder.
Grasping her shoulder with his free hand, Andre shook her head as if he was listening for marbles or something. Izzy swallowed hard, refraining from grabbing his balls and twisting them off. She stood her ground. If there was one thing Andre respected, it was the dollar. She made lots of them at Surf’s Up.
“I can get a job next door at the Red Door and make twice as much as what Boris pays me.” She twisted out of his grip, but he kept a big hand on her head. “And Stan doesn’t manhandle his girls.”