“I’m full of surprises,” Michael replied adroitly. “However, when presented with a beautiful woman, there should be no other expectation then to dance with her,” he said with a smile toward me.
“What a lovely sentiment.” Ian tensed next to me as a stunning woman slithered in next to Michael. “I don’t recall being introduced. I’m Audra Wilkerson.” Her outstretched hand hung for a second as Ian appeared reluctant to take it. I filed the moment away as he graced her with a charming smile and took her hand.
“My apologies, your beauty stunned me so,” he told her as I witnessed Michael give him a subtle nod. This was the woman sent to spy on Michael then. “Would you care to dance with me?” Ian squeezed my hand in apology as she nodded, and he stretched out his arm to escort her.
“Well, I can’t be outdone by a young buck.” Mr. Zane held a hand out to me and nodded at the dance floor. “Care to take a spin with an old man?”
“I don’t see any old men around here, but I would love to dance with you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear.”
He took my hand, and Michael nodded approvingly at me. It was a different dance, but Zane was an experienced dancer and it wasn’t long before I had the hang of it. One dance led to several as Zane passed me off to members of his family and other company executives. I chatted politely with all of them, attempting to glean any small details or feelings about Michael’s presence at their company. They all seemed to think highly of Michael, but were understandably wary. His family’s reputation preceded him, and from the many rumors I heard on the dance floor, they were right to be wary.
I finally made my way back to Michael, and he handed me a glass without interrupting his conversation. I hadn’t had a second to pause for a rest and the cool liquid felt amazing as it eased down my dry throat. He set his hand gently against my back as I scanned the room for Ian. I hadn’t seen him, except for the odd glimpse as I spun around the dance floor, and he’d looked a little off the last time. I shifted anxiously as I didn’t find him, drawing Michael’s attention.
“What is it?” he murmured quietly against my ear.
“Have you seen Ian?” He narrowed his eyes as he thought and said, “Not lately.” He studied me more carefully then. “You’re worried.” It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway. I was and there was no explanation for it. Ian had done nothing to concern me. I’d seen him earlier, but something felt off, and I wasn’t one to ignore my intuition. “Do you see Buster?”
I twisted around as his arm rested against me and he responded to a question from one of the gentleman. It took a second, but I finally spotted Buster’s tall frame and my anxiety spiked as I realized it looked like he was also searching for someone.
I tapped Michael’s sleeve and he turned me around.
“Gentlemen, forgive me, you’ll have to excuse us. My partner is famished from all of the dancing this evening.” I gave them a demure smile, hiding my emotions almost as well as one of the brothers. Michael paused to let me lead, and I guided him in the direction I’d last seen Buster. He scanned the room as we walked, his height giving him a greater advantage over my heels. A quick tug had us heading at an angle to intercept Buster.
“Have you seen …?”
We both spoke at the same moment and answered our own questions. Buster shook his head, and I could almost hear Michael’s teeth grind together. It was obvious he was upset with Ian’s disappearance, but he was careful not to react openly.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“It’s probably been an hour,” Buster admitted with a frown. “I’d say it’s safe to say he’s not here.”
“Something must have happened. Ian wouldn’t have just left without telling us,” I exclaimed.
“You don’t know Ian very well then,” Michael gritted out unhappily.
“No, Michael. She’s right. The last I saw him he was across the room from me. He looked more upset than I’ve ever seen him. He looked ready to punch someone. Instead, he stormed off. The behavior was odd for him, so I tried to go after him. It took me forever to get across the room, and by then I’d lost him. I thought he probably headed to the bar, but they hadn’t seen him. I’ve been checking every nook and cranny in this place since.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to inform me?” There was no mistaking the acid in his voice, and Buster’s glared at him.
“I thought I’d find him before that needed to happen.”
“If he’s upset, as you say, then you know how he’ll react. If he’s not at the bar here; then he’s at a bar somewhere else.” Michael’s voice was tired, resigned even.
“He promised me he wouldn’t,” I interjected, believing he would keep his word. Michael’s look was compassionate, even as Buster refused to meet my eyes.
“Jane, I have no doubt he would want to live up to your ideals, but the reality is this is what he does. It is an engrained reaction to him being upset. He will drown his sorrows in women and drink. It’s what he does.” He draped his arm over my shoulders giving me a quick hug. His next words were almost indecipherable. “I only wish I knew what drove him to it.” I heard the pain in his voice, the utter helplessness he felt at not being able to get to the heart of why Ian remained so guarded. It hardened my own determination to find out why. If Ian had broken his promise to me, then he owed me an explanation, and I fully intended to collect.
“Then let’s go,” I replied stoutly. “Buster, you have to know where he’d go. You found him last time. If he’s licking his wounds, then he’ll go somewhere familiar.”
“I don’t think …”
“I don’t care what you think,” I responded tartly, my words stopping Michael in his tracks and shocking them both. I glared at them, my own disappointment in Ian pushing me to say things I wouldn’t normally say. “You’ve both given up on him. Yes, you bail him out of trouble and keep him close to keep an eye on him, but you’ve stopped trying to figure out why. Why he does this. It’s not normal. People don’t spend years running from pain for no good reason. You say he changed when I came around and maybe he did, or maybe he finally found someone who wouldn’t judge him so harshly for how he dealt with the pain he feels. I don’t know what it is that drives him, but you should. You call yourself his brother, his friend, but neither of you see him very clearly.” Michael’s expression was closed, but I caught the glimmer of emotion in his eyes. It was the only indication he’d heard what I said or that it’d had any impact whatsoever.
It wasn’t completely fair of me. I knew that. I hadn’t had to deal with Ian’s shenanigans for the past several years, but their acceptance of it infuriated me. I was already tired of Ian’s actions, but I knew there was something triggering it, and it was obviously up to me to discover the catalyst. “I’m going to find him and when I do … I’m going to get my answers.”
I spun around and headed for the door.
Before I’d reached the staircase, Buster had caught my arm.
“We’ll go out the back. Don’t want to face the paparazzi again, do you now?” he muttered, pulling me toward a side door. I shook my head, blinking back tears as I glanced around and realized Michael hadn’t come.
“He has to stay. It’s his job.” He shook my arm lightly. “He heard you. We both did. And you have a point. But don’t judge him for not coming now. Okay?” I nodded, slightly ashamed of myself for expecting him to leave an important business function. “We’ll find Ian, and maybe you’re what he needs to see when he’s like this. Maybe if Ian sees himself through your eyes, he’ll finally change.”
“I didn’t mean to …”
“Aye, you did. And it was deserved. I won’t fault you for that. But Michael … he don’t like being told when he’s wrong. It’ll take him some time to absorb it.” My stricken expression made him chuckle. “Don’t fash yourself, lassie. He needed to hear it, as did I. Now let’s go find our bonnie bastard and set him straight.”
My smile was a bi
t wet, but I was grateful he was accompanying me, so I didn’t comment on his use of bastard.
Buster took me through a maze of backrooms before we made it outside to a group of drivers chatting with each other. He nodded to one, who slipped his little cap on and headed for our limo.
“I’ll have him drop us off in the French Quarter. That’s where I found Ian last time.” He could see my next question coming, so he replied, “I’ll send him back for Michael. If Ian is in the French Quarter, we should be able to walk back to the hotel.”
The drive was quick, but felt long as I sat on the edge of the seat. Logically, I knew Ian was fine. He may be hurting and acting out, but this wasn’t the first time, and he hadn’t done something so foolish as to get himself killed before now, so I expected he wouldn’t this time. It didn’t ease my concern, though. Ian’s pain had become my own somewhere along the way, and I felt the urgent need to fix whatever was wrong.
“He’ll be fine, lass,” Buster chastised, his hand running along my spine doing nothing to ease my tension. I wanted to lash out, but it wasn’t Buster’s fault that I craved his touch at the same time I desperately wanted to see Ian safe.
“I know, but it doesn’t change how I feel.” I glanced over my shoulder to see his tie hanging loosely around his neck and his jacket gone. I gave him a curious look.
“In case I need to fight. Jacket limits my range of motion, and I hate bloody ties. French Quarter at night can have a raucous crowd, so best you stay near me, alright?”
I nodded, and Buster opened the door as the driver slid to a stop. He spoke quietly to him for a second as I took in the carnival in front of me. People were everywhere, wearing all manner of clothing, making even our formal attire seem completely normal. Music streamed from bars and clubs, and the sheer noise from the laughter and conversations was deafening. It should have been obnoxious, but it wasn’t. The vibrancy and life that streamed down the street was infectious. I could see why Ian would have run here. It was a good place to forget your sorrows.
“Alright now. Stay by me. Do not let me out of your sight, better yet …” He took my hand. “Don’t let go of me. I don’t want to lose you, because I’d have both brothers coming after me, and they might succeed in beating me if they actually worked together.” I blinked at him, but tightened my grip on his hand as the crowds jostled me. We started walking, and Buster pulled me across the street without even checking some bars. I glanced inside one and felt my eyes round.
“Is that?”
“Yes,” he answered without glancing over. He saw my stunned expression and turned my head away. “It’s best not to look inside, lass. No telling what you might see.”
“Yes,” I answered faintly, the image of gyrating men on the bar burned in my retinas, but it was the other men frantically waving their arms and hollering at them that had taken me off guard. I tucked myself a little closer to Buster and let him guide me. I didn’t take the same views on sexuality as my parents. My own opinions were a little more open I liked to think, but it was still a shock to see certain things. My upbringing hadn’t prepared me for Bourbon Street.
“Here, lass.” Buster eased to a stop, trying to see into the windows of a place. The glass was dirty, and the people on the street kept getting in the way. I tugged on his hand to go inside, and he frowned. “I don’t like bringing you into a place like this.”
“We have to find him. So let’s find him.” I kept tugging until he finally followed me inside. We made quick work of the perimeter with no sign of Ian.
“I don’t think he’s here,” Buster muttered, pulling me back outside.
“How do you know? He could have been in the restroom. We barely looked, and it was dark and crowded.”
“Trust me, lass. If Ian is inside you’ll know immediately. He isn’t shy about making a scene,” Buster replied, moving down the sidewalk with a determined stride. His reply didn’t reassure me in the least. In fact, it made me question whether Ian would listen to me at all.
I stopped abruptly, my arm jerking, since it was still attached to Buster’s hand.
“Jane? You alright?” Buster scanned the area, looking to see if anyone had touched me, or if I’d seen Ian.
“No.” I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “Buster, listen. When we find him … you have to follow my lead. Okay? I know he’s gonna be a jerk. And I don’t know if he’ll listen to me. So you have to do what I say, even though you’re not going to want to.”
“What are you babbling on about, lass?” Buster rolled his shoulders. “I’ll pick the arse up and carry him out if need be.”
“While I would enjoy witnessing that … don’t.” He gave me a confused look. “I know. I’m not making a lot of sense, but I need Ian to choose. He has to make the choice to follow me, to leave what he’s doing behind and come with me. With us. I want him to explain, to tell me why he does this. He never will if you force him to come. He’ll shut down and ignore me.”
“Eh, you’re probably right about that. But what are you thinking, lass? I can’t let you be at risk, not even for bloody Ian.”
“I know, but I need you to pretend you will. That you’ll do what I say over what he says. Because I don’t think Ian will let me be in danger any more than you would. But he has to decide that for himself. To decide if my safety is more important than his drunkenness.”
“Aye. I’ll agree to it, but I don’t like being in the midst of a battle of wits between you and the bloody wanker.” He agreed reluctantly, his auburn hair gleaming copper under the street light. He was getting more than a few admiring glances. From both genders, I noted with a flash of jealously. He didn’t seem to notice, though. He charged on, easily breaking a path though the throngs of people in the street. Three bars later, and my feet were dragging. Heels were not the best thing for trekking through numerous bars, after having danced for hours. However, there was no way I was taking them off, considering the things I’d seen as we went up and down the street. In fact, there was an excellent chance I would be throwing the shoes in the trash as soon as we made it back to the hotel.
“He wouldn’t have.” Buster gazed into the distance and thumped his hand against his leg. “Of course he would have.” I watched him mutter to himself, grateful to be still for a minute as I shifted from foot to foot. “Come on, lass. I know where the blighter is.”
We walked a block, stopping in front of a darkened door.
“Just promise me this, lass.” I gave him a questioning look. “Wait ‘til we get back to the hotel to kill him. Fewer witnesses.”
I nodded, still puzzled as to why he would want that promise. We stepped inside, and Buster slipped money into a man’s hand. He proceeded to nod and open another door. It took me a second to comprehend what I was seeing.
“Looking for a blond man, British accent, money to burn, but obnoxious as hell,” Buster inquired of the bouncer in front of us. And he was a bouncer. I knew that without asking, because he had massive bulging arms and a thick chest to rival Buster’s.
“VIP Room. Straight back,” The guy told us without an ounce of hesitation. Buster nodded, tipping him too. He saw my confused frown and admitted, “Money talks.” He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s the fastest way to get what I want.”
“Afraid you couldn’t beat it out of him?” I asked him with a grin.
“Ha, he’s a damn poser. Bloke’s never done a leg day in his life. Like pushing over cotton candy.” I choked back a laugh, averting my gaze as we passed some scantily clad women. I’d figured out where we were and understood why Buster thought I’d kill Ian. I admitted to some curiosity, though, as I glanced at the stages. One woman was hanging upside down from a pole with only one leg holding her up. It was rather impressive.
“How do they do that?” I whispered to Buster, surprising him.
“A lot of work,” he whispered back with a respectful nod. “Pole dancing isn’t easy. My mum would tell you that straight off.”
I wanted to ask how his
mom knew that, but we were at the door to the VIP room. Two guys blocked it, staring at us suspiciously. Buster flashed something toward them and they immediately stepped aside.
“What was that? Is there some magic VIP strip club card I need to know about?”
“Well, I don’t think you need to know about it, but essentially, yes.” He winked at me before opening the door to a den of iniquity.
“What the …?” The lighting was dim, except where spotlights highlighted dancers writhing on individual podiums. Sound was muffled, the room we’d just come from completely cut off, once the door shut behind us. Men lounged in cushioned seats, some with women dancing on them. I frowned, thinking if Ian had a woman draped over him, there might be a chance of me killing him. I had to remind myself that he didn’t belong to me, but it felt like a lie, even as I tried to convince myself of it. There was something between us.
A connection.
As unlikely as it would seem.
The playboy and the average Jane.
And the bodyguard and the businessman, a devilish little voice added.
Taking a quick glance around, it was easy to believe any of these women would suit him better than me, but I refused to be intimidated by the comparison. I might be average, but I cared about Ian more than any of these women ever would.
It didn’t take long to find him.
Buster had been correct.
Ian drew a crowd.
The raucous laughter guided us, and I witnessed Ian drink a shot off a stripper’s stomach.
“Oh, he’s going to regret that,” Buster murmured at seeing my face.
“Hello, Ian.”
He stilled at my voice, the only movement his eyes as they flickered up to meet mine. I tried to keep my face neutral, but had a feeling I failed. I caught a glimpse of guilt and a hint of despair before he attempted to bluff his way out of the situation. Those emotions were the only thing that saved him.
Charming Jane_A Reverse Harem Romance Page 18