I place my purse on the bar and look at it. My gun’s in there. Locked and loaded. If this man takes me to James, I’m gonna kill him. He’ll never see me coming.
“Did you not like the drink?” the bartender asks with a frown.
I pick up the napkin and wipe my sweaty hands. “Yes. Thanks.” Then I lift my hands to smooth my hair down. Deep breath.
“You okay?” he asks looking me up and down. Am I sweating?
I nod. “Just a little nervous,” I say with a small smile.
He looks around at the packed club and then leans in closer to me. “Need something for it?”
I go to say no—that I don’t do drugs—but then pause. “What do you mean by something?” I ask slowly.
“I have some bars I can sell you,” he says with a shrug.
Bars? He means Xanax, right? I’ve had them before. When Tiffany and I were twenty-one, she dated a doctor for a few months. The one who paid for her tits. He would write her prescriptions for bars all the time. I remember the way it made me feel. It wasn’t a hungover feeling or a loss of my limbs feeling. It just made me feel … good. “I’ll take one,” I say, and I already feel relaxed.
The bartender generously sold me a bar for twenty dollars, and I went to the bathroom and took it. Now, I’ve been sitting back at the bar for five minutes and no text. No effect from the pill. Nothing. The constant flashing lights and pounding music are starting to give me a headache, though.
I place my elbow on the table and let out a sigh as I blow away a few loose brown strands. I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder and spin around in my chair.
“Whoa.” The man raises his hands out in front of him in surrender, and I let out a nervous little laugh when I see that it’s Oscar. Bingo!
“Oscar,” I say with excitement.
He looks me up and down and lets out a whistle. “You don’t look like you’re working tonight,” he calls out over the music. God, does Brecken know how loud their music is? I guess people don’t come to clubs to talk.
“Uh, yeah. I got off early,” I lie some more to this man.
“May I have a seat?” He pats the empty seat next to me. If only he knew how many guys I had to turn away to save him that seat.
“Of course,” I say trying to keep my hands from shaking. Why isn’t this damn bar kicking in? Did he sell me a dud? Do they go old? Or did the fucker just take my money and sell me a fake? Wish I knew more about drugs to know the difference.
“What are you drinking?” he asks as he taps the bar for a bartender.
“Oh, I’m not,” I say waving my hand in the air just in case he couldn’t hear me.
His smile drops off his face. “Thought we were gonna have some drinks?”
Shit! That is what I had told him. But should I drink after taking the bar? Maybe I can have just one? I didn’t finish that other drink that I had ordered. Not even half, actually. “Sure,” I say, rubbing my sweaty hands on my thighs. Calm down. A woman who tries to seduce a man is confident, not nervous. I pull my shoulders back.
He waves to the bartender and goes to open his mouth to order, but I speak. “I would like a shot,” I say. I could probably take a shot over a full drink easier.
He orders me a shot of something I’ve never heard of and a Jack and Coke for himself. As he does so, I pull my dress down a little bit, exposing some more of my breasts. I don’t have much to show off, but I have enough to get his attention apparently.
“So how long have you worked here?” he asks, facing me.
“A few months.” I gotta remember my lies. I’d hate to forget what I already told him.
The bartender places my shot in front of me, and I look up to thank him, but a man catches the corner of my eye. It’s Jet. Shit! I duck my head trying to keep him from seeing me but not obvious enough to where Oscar starts to question my sanity.
I keep my eyes on him as he walks right past us and to the stairs. He goes up them two at a time and then disappears. I find myself looking up at the large mirror that I know Brecken can see the club from the inside. Can he see me right now? God, I hope not. I let out a shaky breath. Damn this Xanax.
When I look back over at Oscar, he is holding up my shot glass, so I take it from him. He makes some stupid toast, but I can’t really hear it over the music. We clink our glasses together, and I drink it down.
“Are you from Chicago?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. But I call it home.” It’s true enough. “You?”
“Yes. I’ve lived here all of my life.” His eyes fall to my chest, and I try not to smile. This bastard isn’t gonna know what hit him. “Do you have any family?”
His question puts an uneasy feeling in my gut. Why would he care if I have any family? Is he asking ‘cause if I say no, then he knows no one will look for me once I leave with him? “A sister,” I say thinking of Tiffany. She’s the reason I’m here, after all. She is the reason I just took a bar and set a man up. I need this to work. It will work. I take a quick look at my purse still on the bar. Her revenge is in there.
“Will she be joining us tonight?” he asks.
My eyebrows rise. “Am I not enough?” Who the hell does this guy think he is?
He laughs as if he was joking. “You’re probably more than I can handle.” He looks me up and down again, and I feel my eyes harden. I just want to get this show on the road. “I was just curious,” he adds. Sure, you are.
He looks at the bartender and orders another shot. “I can’t,” I say over the music.
“Come on. Just one more. We are at a club, after all.” He points down at his glass and shows me that it’s empty. “It’s rude for a man to drink alone while sitting with a beautiful woman.”
My cheeks heat up, and I give him a cheesy smile. Then I surprise myself with a laugh. “You think that’s funny?” He smiles at me and his eyes shine. He leans in and pushes the hair from my face. The hairs on my neck stand up as warmth travels through my body. “You’re very beautiful,” he whispers into my ear, and even over all the music, I can hear him plain as day. “I’d love to take you somewhere. Out of here.”
I lean back and feel like I’m falling off my seat. He reaches out and grabs my arm. He rights me and then places his hand on my thigh. It’s wrong. I should pull away, but it feels good. Warm. He squeezes it, and I suck in a breath as his fingers dig into it sending goose bumps over my body. “Okay,” I say nodding my head slowly. You came here to leave with him. Stick with your plan, a voice in the back of my mind tells me. He removes his hand.
He looks away from me to face the bartender and then he sets another shot down in front of me. “When you’re done with that one, we’ll leave.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, but it really doesn’t matter. I just want him to touch me again.
“I know a guy who is having a party,” he says simply and takes a sip of his now full glass.
“A party?” I ask as I reach out to him. I place my hand on his upper arm. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit just as he was last night at Throb. It’s soft under my touch, and it looks very expensive. Who wears a suit to a nightclub?
“Unless you’d like to go somewhere else,” he says.
Yes. I do. I wanted to go to … Where did I want to go? Where are we? “Anywhere that’s quiet,” I say, feeling my insides tighten. Why is he smiling at me like that? Like I just told him a secret? Did I?
“Your wish is my command.” What did I wish for?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BRECKEN
I sit up in my office above Seven Deadly Sins as Jet walks out. They found Tiffany’s car. It was at a park on the other side of town. He came to tell me in person that they have picked it up, and it’s on its way to the crime lab for a team to run forensics on it. But that was all they found. Still no phone and no wallet. And the car had been set on fire, so the odds of them finding any fingerprints will be minimal. Another dead end. Whoever she was messing with knew what they were doing. It wasn’t some random
act of violence. It was planned. A setup. And that makes it a little harder for us. She had obviously pissed off the wrong people. She hadn’t just left with some random guy she met that night here at Seven Deadly Sins, and he killed her. He had come here for her. He had set her up. It makes my chest tighten knowing that. What were they after? Why her? And does it have anything to do with Skye? If Tiffany had done something bad enough for someone to want her dead, how had Skye not known? They were best friends. Don’t best friends tell each other everything? Especially women.
The door opens and hits the wall with a bang. By the time I look up to see what the hell is happening, Miller is already in my office and has his back toward me as he places something on the couch over against the far wall.
“What the ….?” I stand quickly.
He takes a step back and turns around to face me. His dark eyes are wide, and he’s breathing heavy. “I stopped him,” he declares.
I frown, not sure what he is talking about until I look down to see what he placed on the couch. My eyes widen when I see Skye. “What the fuck happened to her?” I demand, going over to her. I kneel beside the couch. Her eyes are closed, and an arm hangs off the side of the couch. I feel for a pulse and let out a breath when it’s strong.
I jump up and spin around to face him. “Miller?” I snap at him as he looks around my office as if confused. “What the fuck is going on?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I saw her walking out of the club. A man on her side. She could barely walk …”
“What do you mean could barely walk?” I snap. “What man?” Could she have been here with Robert? He had been calling and texting her. He had shown up at her apartment … I still need to find that guy and beat his ass. Although it would make it easier on me if he was already here.
“I think …” He runs his hand through his hair again. “I think ...”
“Fucking spit it out.” I bark.
“I think he drugged her,” he finally says.
I turn back to her. I place my fingers on her neck, needing reassurance again. Still strong. “I don’t understand,” I say shaking my head. “Why is she even here at the club? And who the hell was she here with?” My eyes rake over her white dress. It barely covers her legs and her chest. I growl as I yank my leather jacket off the back of my chair. I lay it over her; thankfully, it covers more than that fucking lame excuse for a dress.
“The guy had a limo …”
Limo? “What?” I stand up again. I place my hands on his security shirt and yank him toward me. “Start making sense, Miller. What happened?”
He takes a deep breath. “I noticed her when she came in earlier. About an hour ago. She didn’t say anything to me, but I thought she was here to see you.” He shrugs. “Then I was talking to a man by the front door when I saw her walk out. I wouldn’t have noticed her if she hadn’t fallen. A guy ran up behind her and helped her up. Then he said ‘It’s okay, babe. Let’s go.’” My jaw tightens. “I grabbed her free arm and asked if she was okay. She looked up at me, and she could barely keep her eyes open. He got angry with me and said she was fine, that she had just had too much to drink and they were leaving.” I let go of him, and he takes a step back. “I believed him for a second, but I thought it was odd. She hadn’t been in this club long enough to be that drunk. Tipsy, yeah. But too drunk to walk? And she was sober when I checked her ID.” He shakes his head. “Then a black limo pulled up, and the memory of the surveillance popped in my mind. I yanked her from his grip. He started to come toward me just as Jet walked out. He grabbed him …”
“Where is he?” I growl interrupting him. I’ve heard all I need to hear.
“He’s downstairs with Jet. I had him take him to a room.”
I start for the door. “Keep her here. Stay with her.” I run out of the office.
I run down the stairs and push people out of my way. I start shoving open doors to each of the rooms, trying to find Jet and this guy. The last door I shove open I see them. Jet has a man down on the ground as he stands over him. His foot on his back. “What the fuck were you doing here?” he demands.
“Oscar?” I ask confused. When I see it’s a man that I know. Case and I do business with him and his friend, James. They both run another club known as Throb.
He looks up at me, and he sighs in relief. “Brecken. Please tell this man to get off me,” he begs.
I wave my hand for Jet to let him go, and he does. “What are you doing here?” I demand. “And why is Skye passed out up in my office?” This can’t be right. I mean, yeah, Oscar deals in drugs but drugging women?
“Skye?” he asks confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shakes his head.
“Yes, you do.” I know Miller didn’t just make all that up. Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean I doubt what Miller told me. “You were caught trying to leave with her. Pretty brunette …”
His eyes harden, and he sucks in a deep breath. “That was Skye? I knew she looked familiar.”
Looked familiar? How would he know Skye? “Where do you know her from?” I demand.
He smiles. A twisted smile. “She’s Tiffany’s friend.” My blood runs cold at the mention of Tiffany.
“How do you know who Tiffany is?” I shout.
He chuckles. “Let’s just say we have a mutual friend.”
“And who the fuck is that?”
He shakes his head. “You think I’m gonna give someone up? You’re mistaken. He has more pull and deeper pockets than even you have. And he’ll kill me if I speak a word.”
“You’re gonna die anyway.” I take a step closer to him. “Jet. Watch the door,” I order, and he walks over to it, placing his body in front of it and watching us.
“No,” Oscar calls out. “You can’t touch me.” He shakes his head. “He’ll kill you. Right after he kills her.”
I reach down and yank him to stand. I shove his back against the wall. “You think I’m gonna let that happen?” I growl in his face.
“You don’t have a choice. She’s as good as dead.” He spits in my face.
I raise my knee and ram it into his balls. “How do you want to die, Oscar?” I ask as he cries from his knees. I smile. “Maybe throw you in the river?” I chuckle. “Or set you on fire …”
“That fucking bitch set me up,” he growls, but I ignore it because he’s not really making any sense. Why would Skye set him up? He thinks we planned this? “She’s gonna regret that …”
I take him by the back of the neck and yank him to his feet and then slam his face into the wall. I hear a cracking noise, and then he falls to his knees once again. I lift my knee to his face, and his head snaps back.
“What did you give her?” I demand.
He moans and then it turns into a soft cry. “Nothing …”
I kick him in the gut. “Quit lying,” I growl. “What did you give her?” I shout.
He shakes his head slowly. I reach down and yank him up by his suit. I shove him up against the wall and start digging in his pockets. He doesn’t even try to fight me as his arms hang limply by his side. I yank his suit jacket open and reach into his inside pocket. I feel a long but skinny tube. Pulling it out, I hold up an empty vial. And I suck in a deep breath as my heart pounds in my chest. “What was in this?” I yell.
“Fuck you,” he says through a mouth full of blood. I rear back and punch him in the face. I feel my skin split from hitting a tooth. His head snaps to the side, but I continue to hold him up.
I hadn’t checked his pants pocket yet, so I dig into them. My breath catches in my throat when I pull out a syringe with a needle on the end and a plastic cover. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see it’s full. Whatever was in there, he hadn’t given her yet. It’s also liquid … It has to be Gen. There could be several other things, but Gen is what comes to mind. I hold it up to his face in my tight grip. “What the fuck is this for?”
He smiles as he lets out a pained breath. A bloody smile. “Why don’t yo
u give it to her and find out.” He licks his bloody lips. “I promise you, she’ll like it…”
I punch him again. This time, I don’t hold him, and he falls to his knees. I then shove his head into the wall. He falls awkwardly to the floor. “Stand up,” I demand. He moans. “I said fucking stand up,” I shout, leaning down and grabbing his shirt. It tears as I yank him to his feet and then press his back against the wall again.
I reach up and wrap my hand around his throat. He sputters and tries to fight me, but he’s too weak. I already did a good job on him. Seconds go by and instead of loosening my grip, I tighten it to the point I fear his eyes may pop out of his head. He tries to fight me. Hit me. He gets a few good hits in, but I hold my grip, refusing to give up. The bastard is gonna pay for what he had planned to do to her. When I feel his pulse weaken and his eyes close, I let him go. He falls to the ground. Out cold.
He lies there, blood running from his nose, mouth, and barely breathing. I look up at Jet. “Take him to a remote place and dump him.”
He stares at me for a long second. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself,” I say, bending down to grab him. I forgot he is a cop. One who is true to the system. I think the system is fucked. I may be a cop, but no one knows. I can bend the system as much as I want.
“No. I’ll do it,” he finally says coming to me and grabbing his arm.
SKYE
I let out a moan as I roll to my side. My hands come up to my head, and I moan once again. “God,” I say through gritted teeth.
What happened to me? Why does every bone in my body hurt? I pull my knees up to my chest and cover myself with the soft blanket. “Jesus.” I swallow; my throat is sore, and my stomach hurts as if I spent the entire night at the gym doing sit-ups.
I open my eyes to see the familiar dark-colored sheets and black comforter. I cringe and then hiss in a breath because it hurt.
I’m at Brecken’s. I sit up and place my hand on my head. It’s throbbing, and the room spins. I close my eyes. How did I end up here?
Obsession (Seven Deadly Sins Book 2) Page 16