All is Lost (All Series, Book 2)

by Marie Wathen

  Frustrated with that thought I stalk around several couples, tangled together in full make-out sessions, and angle my way to the furthest back corner, which allows me to have the entire room under observation. The waitress takes my order, quickly returning with a beer moments later and I do my best blending. Dressed this way is a completely new experience. I hope it's enough of a disguise that no one will recognize me. After the way Breesan reacted I may just have to do it more often. Smiling at the way her eyes devoured me, I'm momentarily lost in the memory of commanding her into that sizzling kiss.

  A soft hand snakes up my arm, pulling me from my daydreams and I quickly move my hand to my side where my gun rests before I see a smirking face, slowly beginning to back away.

  “Hi,” A beautiful woman dressed in ultra-goth clothing says. “You look so familiar to me. I wanted to come over and ask if we've met before.” She pauses. “Damn, that really sounded like a pick up line, but I swear it's the truth.” She giggles, covering her hand over her mouth, and lowers her head apparently embarrassed by approaching me. I can't help laughing, too, because I know as well as she does that it is totally a pick up line.

  “No, I don’t think we have. I just moved to the island.” I lie. She doesn’t need to know anything about me. Moving her hand away from her face, she slants her head to the right slightly and narrows her eyes, studying me.

  “Are you sure? Because you have the kind of face a woman can't forget.” She continues sizing me up, letting her eyes roam over me.

  Smirking at her flirting with me, I lean back into my chair, folding my arms over my chest. I cut my eyes and look over her shoulder, seeing Raithe making his way over. Spotting me and the girl he grins like a Cheshire cat while taking the empty seat beside me. Propping his elbow on the edge of the table casually, he addresses the woman now staring daggers at him.

  “Miller.”

  “Raithe?” She seems thrown off with him sitting down. “I didn't think I would see you back at the club again.” She glances between us and asks, “Are you two friends?”

  “Oh yeah.” Turning to me he gestures with his hand between us, “We are old friends.” He smirks and she glares at me again. “Don't you recognize him or does the Goth look throw you?” Raithe chuckles while staring at my spiked hair and heavy makeup.

  He's enjoying teasing the girl, who I recognize now as a blur from my past. My body instantly stiffens with him giving away my cover. Doesn’t he realize that no-one can be trusted? Especially her.

  “That's why I'm here Raithe,” She snaps. “I thought he looked familiar, but he says that he just moved here. Which one of you is lying to me?” Quirking an eyebrow at me, she props both hands on her hips and pierces me with a glare.

  He better know what he’s doing.

  “Miller, huh?” I ask, familiar with the name, but she doesn't look like the same girl I met nearly a decade ago. “As in, Miller Adams?”

  Her black hair is a short blunt cut, but when I knew her it was long and dark blonde. Her body has definitely filled out from the scrawny tomboy look I remember; and those sapphire blue eyes don't match their normal brown and gold. Obviously she's wearing contacts. She's masked herself completely, but recognizing the name suddenly causes my casual stance to become ridged.

  “You do know me,” She demands. Leaning in closer, the corner of her mouth quirks up and recognition settles into her eyes. Hesitantly, she asks, “Marcus?”

  “Yes, Miller,” I sigh. “I didn't recognize you before. Otherwise I wouldn't have allowed you to drag out the whole seduction scene. If you don't mind Raithe and I have some things to discuss.” I narrow my eyes when she doesn’t retreat. “It's private.” Hopeful she's satisfied with my response, I turn facing him giving her my shoulder. Maybe I can use her knowing I am back to my advantage at a later date, but for now I do not want Breesan seeing her anywhere near me.

  “Sure, um,” she pauses, “I'll see you later.” She states softly from behind me, her words sound hopeful, but I take them as a threat.

  “Damn man, she's still got it bad for you. But I'm guessing that she doesn't stand a chance against the little hellion you're shacking up with huh?” Grinning, he stares behind me watching Miller walk away. Hearing how he belittles what is between me and Breesan spurs my hardening attitude.

  “Shut up,” I growl angrily.

  Twisting my head around to glance over my shoulder, I smile seeing that she actually granted my request and surprisingly left without an argument. Miller is a ghost from my past that will remain there. Refusing to discuss my relationship status with Raithe, I change the subject.

  “What updates do you have on the case? Other than spotting Rhys and Kole when I arrived I haven't spoken with them today,” I ask drawing his attention away from the busy dance floor in front of us.

  “The department is running around crazy with two major incidents in one weekend. They have one investigator working the shooting and decided to turn over the abduction case to the county. I scrounged through the evidence locker and found Breesan's cell phone.” He hands it over and I slide it into my back pocket.

  “Thanks.”

  “I checked it out and made sure it's still working. It’s busted up pretty badly so you'll want to get her a new one.”

  I already picked up her new phone. All that's left is putting her old chip in it and giving it to her. Thinking about her reading that text that made her faint scares the hell out of me, but I won't betray her trust or make her feel weak by deleting it. She'll have to face it at some point; I'll just make sure I'm there when she does. “Thanks Raithe. If you find out anything else...” He cuts me off before I can finish.

  “There is something else. While I was at the hospital I spoke with your Granddad and he's concerned. Have you talked with your brother recently?” He stares, seriousness owning his expression.

  Suddenly apprehensive, I shake my head and scan the room for any signs of Breesan. Not locating her among the large crowd, I glance back at him, annoyingly awaiting my response.

  “Marcus, he's been gone since the night of Tristan's shooting and no one has spoken with him. I talked to Sam about it and she remembers seeing him at the docks that night.” Raithe takes a beer from the waitress. “Thanks Lizzy.” He says to her. Apparently he is a regular here.

  “Sam and I did a little investigating,” He continues. “It appears that he flew off to Vegas, but now he's gone, like completely off the grid. I contacted a guy that I graduated academy with who works at Clark County Sheriff's office. I asked him to drop by his suite at the MGM.” I nod. “All of his shit is there, but they've checked the room twice and it's like he's disappeared.”

  Letting the information settle in I try to control my anger with Morgan for being such a little shit and disrupting the family even more. Shit. Disappearing is not Morgan’s style. If anything he's all about recognition, but more importantly he wouldn't discard his responsibilities to WC on a whim just to be an ass. Something tingles in the back of my head, but I continue earnestly listening to Raithe without interrupting.

  “Sam has tried contacting Tac about helping us locate him, but he's still deep undercover in some third world country. I'm telling you all of this for Breesan's sake.” I freeze at the mention of her name. “Tristan told me that they got really close. You should probably tell her Morgan is missing before someone else breaks it to her.”

  I haven't considered Breesan's feelings for my brother. With him suddenly vanishing she may feel some responsibility, since he disappeared soon after kissing her. I’ll tell her tomorrow.

  “Fucking Morgan,” I growl silently, disgusted by him being in the center of my relationship once again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Breesan

  I spent the first few hours of my first night at Club Toxic learning the menu from the cook and familiarizing myself with the serving chart. I've been to the club a hundred times, but working it is something totally different. Ensley took me on a tour of the VIP area that I
will be responsible for while working here. The club goers are a mix of teens and mid-twenties, and I know most everyone here. Luckily the upper area is reserved for those who are willing to pay for seclusion away from the rambunctious behavior expected downstairs, leaving this area less busy and me less likely to be recognized. The bartender is a guy named Tyle. He's very handsome and I've seen him here before, but I'm not familiar with the waitress working alongside me tonight.

  “If you want to take the front stations I'll stay back here near the bar.” Tracelyn says sweetly, handing me an apron and a ticket book. “Just let me know if you get any alcohol orders so I can deliver them for you since it's our policy that no one under twenty-one handles them.” She glances over her shoulder before adding, “Besides, now that Tyle is single I'm hoping that he'll finally pay me some attention. He has the dreamiest eyes and I want them on me all night.”

  A wicked smile breaks across her face as she stares off in his direction. Tracelyn is cute with short brown hair. She stands just an inch or two taller than me and her figure is extremely curvaceous. Without all of her Goth garb on she could probably pull of the girl-next-door look easily.

  “Thank you.” I manage to get out through a soft chuckle. “He's single huh? Well, I wish you luck with him then.”

  “Yeah,” Her smile drops slightly. “It's kind of sad, but works out best for me. I hope.”

  Preferring not to know why his breakup is sad, I turn slightly noticing a completely gothed-out guy at the very front table grinning and waving me over. “Oh look, my first customer.” I say relieved. Slipping away I take the guys simple beer order and Tracelyn delivers it.

  The night progresses just as similarly as it began, steady with orders while I search every face for recognition of one of the abductors. Since it's a Tuesday night there's not a very large crowd, but the local Goth band Beginning Monday is playing and they bring out more than the typical Tuesday night's usual suspects. The band is really good–one of my favorites–and the lead singer, Miller Adams, is amazing. Her voice is sultry when she purrs out the lyrics. We actually went to high school together. She isn’t one of my favorite people and we absolutely never hang out.

  I've heard she's changed since joining this band, but I still hope she doesn’t recognize me if we happen to bump into each other. I've given her no reason, but she's been hateful to me for years. After finding out that Marcus dated Miller years ago and told him horrible–albeit truthful–things about me, I was a little disappointed in his choice of girlfriends. With the bitter rivalry wedged between us already, I think Miller would like me even less if she found out that Marcus is with me now. No matter, I never did care about what that gossiping, mean-girl thought.

  “Hey.” A deep male voice calls from behind me.

  Turning my head to glance over my shoulder, I see the bartender waving me over. Placing my empty tray down, I pluck a cherry from the garnishment tray and prop on the high-back barstool.

  “What's up?” I ask, staring at the sweet treat dangling from the stem.

  “Your front table guy left without paying his tab.” Tyle says smiling at me while digging through the cooler for a beer. “It comes out of your wages and tips, but since it's your first night I've covered for you.”

  “No, don't do that.” I sigh after glancing back at the abandoned seat. “I can't believe he stiffed me, he was so nice.”

  Laughing loudly, Tyle slams the beer on the counter in front of a middle-aged punk rocker with his Mohawk spiked in every direction before coming back over to me.

  “Sorry, but that guy is not nice.” He says, still chuckling as he rests his arms across the edge of the bar, leaning in closer to me. “He’s an asshole and does that shit all the time.”

  “What?” I gasp. “Why in the hell do you keep letting him back in the club?” I shout disturbed by the fact that he knew this jerk did this shit all the time. I wobble on my stool, nearly falling but Tyle's hand darts out fast grabbing my arm to help stabilize me.

  “Easy there. You okay?” He asks dropping his eyes to my chest. Staring extra-pervy at my cleavage, he grins wickedly. Pulling up my corset I push away from the bar rail, lean back on the stool, and cross my arms over my chest effectively blocking his view.

  “Fine,” I mumble perturbed at his blatant leering. Jeez, you'd think in a place like this where women dress this way all the time he'd be sick of looking at boobs.

  “Hey,” He says. Slowly glancing up to look in my face, he shrugs guiltily.” I'm just fucking with you. We don't have a choice in letting the jerk back in here.”

  The corners of his mouth turn up displaying two huge dimples on either side. Tyle is devastatingly handsome, but there's something off about his eyes. Flustered with his gawking and twisted answers, I quirk an eyebrow at him, awaiting his reason. Wiggling a finger for me to lean forward, I shake my head defiantly, unwilling to give him another flash of my abundant cleavage.

  “Bea, come here,” He challenges softly.

  Staring confused by the sudden softness of his features, I casually lift my hands snaking them around my neck, completely covering my cleavage with my arms and tilting toward him as he instructs. Thankfully, he continues to stare only at my eyes.

  “He's my brother,” He states matter-of-factly, like he expects me to accept that the guy being his brother excuses his bad behavior. Perplexed, I stare unable to come up with a logical explanation and disbelieving that he really continues allowing his brother to skip out on the waitresses pay. “And he's not gone. He's working.”

  “What do you mean he's working?” I glare disbelievingly. “He works here?”

  Smoldering eyes soften now to a smirk as his grin deepens the dimples in his cheeks. “Yeah cuz, he works here while you're here.”

  Completely thrown by him calling me the shorten version of cousin, I shift around looking at the nearly packed bar seeing that no one is paying us any attention, but it's too late. Fear begins a wicked dance across my skin, crawling deep inside to the pit of my stomach, and I suddenly feel exposed, even more than my damn overwhelming boobs.

  Clamping down on my arm again, Tyle shushes me while dragging me off my stool, and behind the back of the bar. I struggle against his hold as he leads me into the florescent lit storage room and then shuts the door behind us.

  “Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you.” He says. “I should have explained it better. Damn, I'm sorry Breesan. If you'll sit down I'll tell you the truth.”

  Shocked in breathless anticipation, my body quivers as I stare nervously chewing on the inside of my cheek. How the hell does he know my real name?

  “Who are you?” I ask pleadingly, finally finding the ability to speak through the lump of paranoia in my throat. A threatening tingle begins to stalk the perimeter of my brain and I don't think a quick mediation session will pull me away from the flip I'm about to take.

  “Sit down.” He orders, but his tone is kind. Fear warns me that he may be one of the bad guys. How could he know my real name and does he know why I'm really working here? “Shit I'm sorry, calm down.” He holds his hands up, gesturing surrender. “Breesan, I'm Tyle Bentley.” He says flatly. As if that means shit to me. Nodding anxiously I await further explanation. He huffs, “As in, kid brother of Rhys Bentley.”

  Relief instantly floods me. “Hang on a second. That guy at the front table was Rhys?” Chuckling at my rushed question, he nods and I mumble as I look toward the door, “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him.”

  “That is kind of the point of being “under cover”, right?” Tyle jokes.

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “Dammit.” Blowing out a heavy breath, I drop my ass into an empty seat and cover my face with my hands. “Why didn't you just tell me and save all the theatrics? With the craziness that has been happening, you scared the hell out of me.” I scold him, piercing him with a disappointed look and add, “What did he tell you about me?”

  “Pretty much everything,” He smiles. “I know you're working with them to
find…” His words stop abruptly as he turns away from me and frowns.

  Feeling the pain of loss replace my fear, I press my fingers to my temples and rub slow calming circles. Staring at my feet, I slowly gain control over my body through controlled breathing, but it does nothing to help the loud buzzing sound rapidly firing off in my mind. Something feels off about Tyle. Drifting my eyes up again, I see him facing me. He takes a seat that is pushed against the back wall.

  “I–I was dating Waverly, before...” He stammers roughly.

  Ohgod no! Shaking my head intently, I wordlessly tell him that I cannot take him telling me anymore. Thankfully, he shuts the hell up before I bolt out of this room, the club and this whole fucked up plan.

  “I'm sorry.” I whisper. A pathetic excuse of an apology hangs in the air without his response. I sneak a glance at him hoping to gauge his reaction while silently praying that he won't hate me.

  Loud banging on the door breaks our silent vigil. Jumping to his feet, Tyle stalks past me, opens the door and finds Rhys scowling as he glances between me and Tyle suspiciously.

  “What the hell?” Tyle growls completely pissed off when Rhys plows into his shoulder, forcing his way into the room.

  “That is exactly what I was about to ask you two.” He snaps at Tyle before turning to me. “Ensley's looking for you Beatrice, but I told her you need a potty-break. You better get moving, can't have you getting canned on your first night.” He says, standing directly in front of me leering down with an almost fatherly expression.

  After I don’t respond, Rhys grunts loudly, pointing toward the door as an indicator that he means business. If I wasn't already shaken from the bullshit his little brother just put me through I'd tell him where he could put his bad attitude and that finger. Instead, I drop my head like a scolded child and rush out away from the eccentric Bentley men. Ensley spies me as she tops the last step with brows furrowed and her jaw set tightly.