“Fine. How about we talk about the fact that all the guys are busy tonight. And they used that lame excuse that they’re having a guys’ night,” Sasha interjects.
Joey told me he was working, but is he actually having a night out with the guys? If that’s true, then the reason he likely lied about it is pretty clear to me that he intends to pick up and spend the night at the place of whoever is lucky enough to be chosen by him.
Why does this possibility make me feel so betrayed?
“You’re with Declan every night; can he not have one night apart from you?” Cynthia rolls her eyes, earning a light smack from Sasha, who is sitting next to her.
“I’m not saying that. I have a girls’ night all the time with you all. I’ve even reconnected with my best friend from college, Conner. What I’m saying is that tonight is suspicious. Declan could barely look me in the eye when he mentioned it, and he stumbled over what bar they were heading to. When I cornered Zander, he mentioned a different bar. That’s weird.”
“They could have just decided on a different location, or—”
“Or,” Sasha quickly cuts Cynthia off, “they decided to do something dangerous, not wanting us to worry.”
As Ava bites her lip, I instantly feel the tension rolling off her like a physical entity.
“You think so?” she murmurs, her pale features from before looking tanned compared to how she looks now.
“Of,” Sasha begins to snap before taking in Ava’s worried features, “course not. I’m being jealous and silly. You know me.” She stands, moving over to Ava’s side to give her a side hug.
Ava’s tense shoulders immediately droop. “Good, because Zander promised me he wouldn’t ever do stuff like that. We have a family together, and I will kill him myself if he’s putting himself in danger.”
“Zander would never risk himself like that. Your protection is his first priority. No way would he put himself in harm’s way and risk someone else doing his job,” Sasha assures. “They’re definitely out drinking, likely trying to get Harvey drunk so he’ll open up.”
My ears perk up at the mention of Harvey. “I like him.”
“Who? Harvey?” Cynthia gasps in what I believe is an overly dramatic way.
“Yeah, he’s nice.”
“The man doesn’t say more than two words at a time,” Sasha argues, but then her features shift to contemplative. “I suppose that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Maybe you’re right; Harvey’s okay.”
I snort before finishing the last drops of wine. Given Ava is pregnant and so only three of us are drinking, we stick to just a couple drinks. However, Sasha has been filling her glass before she’s finished, so who knows how many glasses she’s technically had.
Soon, the girls are regaling me with stories of exes, and I hear all about Sasha’s drama of only last year. I can’t imagine how she must have felt having a stalker and am so grateful that ended happily. Ava’s past leaves me feeling much worse, considering what she went through. Suddenly, an asshole ex-husband doesn’t seem so bad.
Another bottle of wine is opened, and all of us, except Ava, have a little glassy look to our eyes.
“So, you and Declan are just living together?” I ask, watching Sasha’s face light up at just the mention of his name.
“Yeah, we’ve talked about marriage, but we’re both not quite ready yet.”
“You mean, you’re dropping hints and Declan is oblivious like most men?” Ava points out.
“No, I mean we have actually talked about it. We both want it, but Declan said he’ll know the right moment to do that and it has to be perfect. I’m not in any rush, so I’m happy enough to wait for now.”
“How happy will you be when you’re eighty and still waiting?” Cynthia asks on a chuckle.
“I wouldn’t care too much as long as he was still giving me orgasms like he is now,” she replies, grinning when Cynthia winces at her reference to more sex talk. “But I already know I won’t have to wait that long.”
“Why is that?” I reluctantly ask, fearful I’m about to hear something I will instantly wish I could unhear.
“We both volunteer at a nursing home, the same one his grandma was in. We have a couple kooky friends who are convinced their life is a reality show. Apparently, it used to be some sort of running joke when they were younger about how the government was watching their every move, or something like that. Then, when reality TV became a thing, it just kicked in a little more for them. Add in their age and the fact that none of us know what is truly going on in their head, they seem to think it’s all real. They talk about ratings and everything. So, they’re convinced our wedding will be a ratings winner. They have been hounding Declan about it twice a week for over a year now.” She shrugs. “Their nagging will win out soon enough.”
“Romantic,” Cynthia mutters, cursing when Sasha elbows her.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do about your parents if you guys do decide to get married?” Ava asks carefully.
Sasha’s eyes flash to me, and I recall the phone conversation I overheard a couple weeks ago.
“I’m not sure I want people who disapprove so thoroughly of the man I love to be at my wedding. Especially when all my mom will do is critique everything.”
“I can’t imagine missing out on something so important in Jensen’s life,” Ava says softly, and I watch as Sasha’s expression shutters off. “But, I also can’t imagine being such a negative impact on his life. I’ve known you many years, and they’ve never once made you smile. They don’t even visit you. So, while I think it’s sad they will miss such an important event, I don’t think you’ll be missing them.”
Sasha’s eyes water. Even I can tell she’s relieved to hear Ava say that.
“Do they still deposit money into your account?” Cynthia enquires.
She rolls her eyes. “No, not since they realized Declan is here to stay. They think they’re punishing me.”
“Money?” I ask.
Sasha nods. “My parents are rich. They used to deposit money into an account for me every month. I never touched it, and even though they’ve stopped, it still earns good interest.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Ava questions before taking another sip of her water.
“Part of me wants to just ignore it. Another part wants to either blow it on stupid crap or donate it. But Declan and I talked about it. It’s a lot of money, and we’re not stupid. Kids are expensive, and college is almost impossible. We don’t want our kids to be stuck with a debt like that, so we’re going to save it for them. They might not have grandparents, but they will have debt-free college tuition.”
“Can you guys adopt me?” Cynthia begs, and we all share a giggle.
I glance down at the time to see it’s already nearing eleven. Where did the time go?
When Ava yawns loudly, I quickly get to my feet, grabbing our glasses and the empty bottle of wine.
“We should call it a night; let Ava get some sleep,” I suggest.
“It’s still so early!” Sasha cries, glancing at her phone before tapping the screen a few times. “Declan says he’s not going to be home for a while. Can’t we stay longer?”
“How about letting Ava get some sleep and we go out?” Cynthia suggests, making Sasha’s eyes light up.
I’m about as excited to be going out as Ava looks like she would be if she was being forced into it, but I can’t deny that my social life is completely lacking.
What would one night out hurt? And just maybe I will be home later than Joey.
For some reason, that prospect makes me feel better. I could show him that I’m not some boring, predictable nobody.
“Where should we go?” Sasha asks, already packing up her things then helping the rest of us clear up the mess we made.
“You guys don’t need to do this,” Ava insists.
We all ignore her.
“Isn’t there a new bar opening down the road?” Cynthia suggests as an ide
a pops into my head. It’s out of my mouth before I can think better of it.
“What about The Glitter Fountain?”
I’m met with two shocked glances and one confused one.
“What’s that?” Ava asks just as Cynthia jumps up and down.
“I love her, I love her!” she declares, giving me an attack hug that nearly knocks me over. “Yes! I vote we go there, too! And we never do anything that benefits me, so you can’t say no, Sash,” Cynthia finishes, her pleading eyes landing on Sasha.
What have I gotten myself into?
What the hell is this place?
“I’m game,” Sasha says on a smile, placing the last dish on the drying rack.
“What is The Glitter Fountain?” Ava again asks what I’m now dying to know.
“It’s a strip club!” Cynthia excitedly squeals.
Dread fills the pit of my stomach.
What the hell have I just done?
Chapter 9
“This place is incredible,” Cynthia gushes.
I have to agree. While there are plenty of scantily-clad women, who do not interest me in the slightest, the actual place itself is worth everyone’s attention.
Glitter is stuck to everything, from the walls, to the floor, to the glasses people are drinking out of. Even every employee has it all over their body and hair, which I imagine is a bitch to get out.
“Let’s get a drink,” Sasha suggests.
We make our way over to the bar, where surprisingly, there are a handful of shirtless men working, as well as a couple dancing.
When Sasha orders us cocktails, I hold mine uncertainly. I may be nearing thirty, yet I have never gotten blinding drunk before. Alcohol and me just don’t mix well. Besides, I’m usually the one taking care of my friends after they indulge too much. Two glasses of wine with dinner is usually my limit. However, this complicated and flashy drink looks too good to waste.
“A table is open over there,” Cynthia calls out.
As we follow her along, her eyes constantly drift to the women around us, so before long, we are barely moving forward at all, meaning Sasha takes her free arm and leads the way.
I feel instantly better once we are seated, taking a deep sip of the fruity cocktail.
“Well, this is certainly different,” Sasha comments, glancing around the room before she does a double-take. “Holy shit! Is that who I think it is?”
I follow her gaze, seeing a topless woman chatting to a man who is too far away for me to distinguish.
“No way!” Cynthia hisses.
I decide this isn’t someone famous, or at least, not known to me.
“What is she doing working here when she works for us?” Sasha continues.
“Who is she?” I ask, trying to look at her without glancing down at her breasts.
“Gemma Lane. She’s been working for J.P.I. for about eight months. She’s barely even spoken a word to us girls. She makes Harvey seem like a chatterbox.”
This name sounds vaguely familiar, but in the loud, pumping music and with a few glasses under my belt, I can’t place it.
“So, she has a second job?” I ask as the man she’s talking to turns around and I get a clear look at him.
It’s Hart Clayton.
Suddenly, the fruity drink sits uncomfortably in my stomach.
I mentioned the name of this place because it was still fresh on my mind after finding Joey had it written down. But the fact that he had it written down suggests it could be part of his investigation. And I just led us all here!
“Guys, I think we should leave,” I suggest, ducking when Hart’s gaze moves our way.
“But we just got here!” Cynthia complains.
“Yeah, but I doubt Gemma would want you seeing her in this situation—whatever it is. And …” I hesitate telling them about Hart and what Joey said about him. The guys seemed adamant to keep Sasha and the others out of this. I get the feeling Sasha would be like a dog with a bone if I gave her even a sniff that something might be happening here.
“And what?” Cynthia demands.
“And I’m not feeling too good. Let’s go.” I slide out of the booth and stand up, only to knock into someone. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t …” I trail off as I stare up at Hart Clayton.
“Hello, Teagan. I didn’t expect to see you here.” He smiles, looking genuinely happy to see me.
“Who is this handsome man?” Sasha demands.
I glance behind me, hoping my brief, panicked gaze conveys how much I do not want to be here. “This is my neighbor, Hart Clayton,” I reluctantly admit.
“Nice to meet you.” Sasha takes his offered hand then indicates to Cynthia, who has her attention firmly placed elsewhere. “Our distracted friend is Cynthia. I’m Sasha.”
“Lovely to meet you all. Just here for some fun?” he asks, moving his hand to my elbow.
I war inside to shove his touch away and play it cool. He’s not being aggressive, and other than Joey and Harvey’s warnings, I haven’t seen anything worrying about Hart.
“Yeah, we weren’t ready to call it a night,” I tell him, watching his eyes travel over my body. “But we’re just heading out now. I have a headache,” I quickly continue, seeing the disappointment roll over him.
“That’s a shame. After seeing you here, I thought I had you pegged wrong.”
Before I can decipher that, a new hand touches my other elbow. Then I’m pushed back until I’m wedged back into the booth, with Joey caging me in.
“Hey, Hartie Boy, what’s up?” Joey asks, moving his arm around the edge of the booth so he cages me into him.
Hart’s eyes narrow for a second before he’s all smiles and charm. “Joseph, I didn’t know you were a regular here, although it figures. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood knows about your interest in Chicago’s entire female population.”
When Joey’s body tenses next to mine, I wonder if Hart is just trying to insult Joey or point out to me who I’m with.
“First time here, actually. Place seems pretty lame if you ask me. We won’t be returning,” he practically growls as he slides his hand up to wrap around my shoulders.
“Lame? I hardly think my establishment is that,” Hart snaps, and my eyes widen as realization strikes.
This is the club he owns?
I glance around the packed club, wondering why the owner of such a place would live in our neighborhood, in a regular house. He must be raking in enough money to move to a nicer area, and into a bigger home.
“You’re right, but we still won’t be returning, right?” His words have an edge to them as he turns toward me.
“Yeah, right.” I’m nervous enough about this whole situation to agree.
“Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the booth before he turns his heated gaze to Cynthia and Sasha.
“I don’t think Cynthia is going to be ready to leave anytime soon, and I’m not leaving her,” Sasha states.
Joey barely spares me a glance before he grabs Cynthia’s hand and drags her toward him. Then he literally swings her over his shoulder.
“Joey!” Cynthia cries out, but with one arm around her to keep her in place and his other hand holding mine, he doesn’t respond as we glide through the curious crowd, Sasha following closely at our heels.
Within minutes, he is marching us through the parking lot, still not letting Cynthia down or my hand go, forcing us to continue down the street.
Where the hell is he taking us?
“Joey, seriously put me down or I’m gonna kick you so hard in the junk that it will take a surgeon to get my heel out!” Cynthia screeches.
Her warning is heeded.
He lets me go to place her gently on her feet. Then, as soon as she is steady, he grabs my hand again.
“What the hell is going on? And where are you taking us?” Sasha demands, marching to stand right in front of him.
Her phone ringing delays Joey from answering, and when she picks up the call, saying Declan’s name, I a
ssume he must be somewhere close, as well.
“She stayed at home with Jensen,” she answers Declan before turning her back to us. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
I am soon distracted from paying attention to Sasha when Cynthia shoves Joey.
“What the hell was that? Never manhandle me like that again, you got it?”
He glares at her, not at all concerned by her shoving him. “This is important. You can’t be in there.”
“I’m not an idiot, Joey. You’re clearly here because this is serious. If you had spoken to me like I was a person, and not some ragdoll to be thrown around, I wouldn’t have fought you on leaving.”
They stare at each other for several moments, their anger palpable. Then Joey’s shoulders droop a little.
“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Declan said to hurry up,” Sasha announces.
Joey takes this as his cue to continue with us down the street.
Soon, we see a lit corner diner, and once inside, Declan storms toward us, grabbing Sasha and wrapping his arms around her.
“What the hell were you guys playing at?”
“What do you mean?” Sasha sounds as exasperated as Cynthia looks. “We’re having a girls’ night.”
“At a freaking strip club?” Declan hisses, pulling Sasha into a booth with him. Joey, Cynthia, and I squish together into the opposite side.
When a waitress approaches, Joey quickly waves her away, earning himself a glare from the poor woman.
“What? You boys seem to like them; why can’t women?” Sasha pulls out of his grasp to cross her arms, stubbornness taking over her features.
“You want to see women strip?” Declan asks on a raised eyebrow.
“Hello? Lesbian over here!” Cynthia announces, receiving brief scowls from both guys before they turn their accusing glares back on Sasha.
“You knew we were going to be there. What the hell were you thinking? You know better than to put yourself in harm’s way like that,” Declan accuses.
“I had no idea you were going to be there, because you never told me! You said you were having a guys’ night. And given your reaction, and the fact that Gemma was half-naked in there, obviously working, I have to assume you were lying to me.”
I Burned Down His House (Love at First Crime Book 3) Page 10