by Taylor Lee
Sashaying back toward the bar, Lexie rounded the corner when she heard a harsh whisper.
“It’s you! It’s really you!”
She turned and saw a young blond haired man sitting alone at a back table. He was staring at her as if he had seen a ghost. Lexie frowned and started to walk by when he jumped to his feet and waved her toward him.
“Please…please, miss. Please, come here.”
Lexie would have walked by but his intensity drew her in.
“What can I bring you, honey?’ she asked in her practiced come hither tone.
He held up his hands and shook his head violently. His voice was low. “No…no. I don’t need anything to drink. I…I need to talk to you.”
Knowing that Clint was only two tables away and Brady was lounging against the bar, Lexie shrugged and sauntered over to the man’s table.
Flashing him her brightest smile, she asked, “What can I do for you? Can I get you something to eat?”
When he shook his head no, she swept her hand over her body in a suggestive gesture.
“I’ll tell you up front, honey, this isn’t for sale. At least not at a price you can afford.”
He held up his hands and shook his head no. Motioning to the chair, he urged her to sit.
Reminding herself that help was close by, she gave him a pleasant nod and sat down in the chair across from him.
Expecting the usual indecent offer in some form or another, she mentally prepared her refusal. To her surprise, the young man pulled his chair next to hers. Looking from side to side as if to make certain no one was watching them, he leaned in closer. His words shocked her.
“I…I…have been looking for you. I know you are his sister.”
Lexie staggered back, a wave of anxiety sweeping over her. Who was this? She didn’t dare look to Brady or Clint. She couldn’t give away her cover, but her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest, she was sure the young man could hear it.
“Whose sister? Who are you?”
He leaned in closer. “I knew him. Anthony. He was my friend. He saved my life.”
Lexie swallowed hard. Forcing herself to be calm, still trying to maintain her cover, she asked, “Why do you think you know me?”
“You are just like him. I know you are Alexis. He showed me your picture many times.”
Fear gripped her chest, making it hard to breathe. She shook her head, wanting to leave, to get help, but she was mesmerized by the intensity in his dark eyes. She pulled herself together and glared at him.
“Tell me your name and what you want from me. Now. Or I will call the bouncer and have you thrown out.”
The young man flushed and shook his head fiercely. “No…no. Don’t do that. I am here to help you. I…I know who killed Anthony.”
If he’d intended to shock her, he achieved his purpose. A hard shuddering tremor shook her. Struggling to breathe, she gripped the arms of the chair. Her whisper was as low and harsh as his.
“Who are you?” She glared at him. “Speak or I will call for help. Now. Who are you?”
He shook his head and held up his hands, as though to reassure her.
“No… no. Please don’t be afraid. Your brother was my squad leader in Iraq. I would have died there, but he saved my life. He is…he was my friend.”
Lexie knew it was irrational, but his words and apparent sincerity struck the longing in her heart. The part of her that ached to know what happened to Anthony, that cried out for answers. Please, God, she prayed. Don’t let this be some hideous joke you are playing on me. Lexie forced herself to think, to speak calmly.
“Tell me what you know. Now. There are many people in this room. If I say the word, you will be taken away. I will press charges against you and you will rot in jail for all I care!”
He gazed at her as if making a difficult judgment. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a photograph. Without saying a word, he handed it to her.
Lexie gasped. A crazy kaleidoscope of color flashed in her eyes. The room spun as dizziness swamped her. The roaring din in her ears muffled his voice. It sounded as though her ears were stuffed with thick layers of cotton.
“No, no. Don’t faint. Be strong.” His voice dropped to a bare whisper. “People are looking at us. You mustn’t let them think something is wrong. Please, for Anthony’s sake.”
Taking the glass of water he placed in her shaking hands, Lexie managed to take a sip. Clutching the edge of the table she willed herself to be strong. Forcing one deep breath in and then out of her lungs, she took another. Slowly, carefully, she pulled air into her lungs and then pushed it out. When the routine task of breathing once more became somewhat automatic, she turned to the young man who crouched next to her.
“I’m sorry. So sorry, Alexis. I didn’t want to show you that photo. Please believe me.”
Looking down at the picture of Anthony’s mutilated body, Lexie asked in a voice that came from another part of her soul. “Where…where did you get this?”
He stared at her as if testing her ability to hear what he said.
“From the man who killed him.”
The roar in her ears drowned out all the sounds in the room except his quiet voice.
“How…how…?”
She couldn’t finish her question.
“Alexis, I must talk to you. I think they’re following me. If they see me with you, they’ll know that I saw them. We’ll both be killed. Do you understand? You are in great danger. As I am. I must talk to you. Alone, away from here. Somewhere we cannot be seen.”
Lexie shook her head. The warning dancing through her brain reminded her to trust her intuition. It had saved her life on more than one occasion. She shook her head and held up her hands.
“No, I cannot go with you. You must come with me. I can protect you. My team can protect you.”
His expression turned to stone. Then his eyes filled with tears.
“No one can protect me. If they find out I am with you, they will kill us both. I am a marked man.”
His voice shook. “I’m leaving now. Don’t follow me. Please.”
When he stood up, Lexie grabbed his arm. Rage took her breath. She would kill him herself before she would let him go without telling her what he knew.
“No! Don’t go. Please tell me how you got this picture. NOW!”
Something in her face must have convinced him because he slunk back down in his chair and faced her. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. A nervous twitch tugged at the corner of his eye. He stammered when he spoke.
“I was at a party. We were promised girls and quality drugs. I…I got stoned and fell asleep in a corner of a back room. When I woke, I overheard these men talking. A large man was bragging that he had done what they told him to. That the ‘cop’ was dead. That Beloi would never bother them again. He showed them a photograph—I guess to prove he’d done what they said. I pretended that I was still passed out, unconscious. I lay on the floor until they left. When I tried to sneak out, I saw the big man with dark hair and a mustache sitting at the table--either asleep or passed out drunk. I saw the photo on the table. I…I…had to see if it was my friend.” He put his head in his hands, then looked up at her agony written on his face. “I’m so sorry.”
Lexie stared at him, struggling to make sense of what he was saying. Just for a second, she thought that she caught the slightest trace of an accent. She had a fleeting thought that he might be one of the men they would meet tonight. One of the dealers Bella told her about. But, no, he didn’t fit their description at all. Good God, he was blond. He was an American, she was sure. Dear God, how to get hold of Jake, Brady, anyone--without blowing their cover or hers.
As though he could read her mind, the young man whispered. “Please meet me. You must come with me. Alone. I will tell you everything I know. Everything I can about the man. But you must come alone. I can’t trust anyone and neither can you. If you do not, I promise you, I will plunge this knife in my heart, rather than face the wrath of these ev
il men who killed Anthony.”
Lexie glanced down at the flash of the blade resting on his knee. His expression was fierce, agonized. She hesitated, trying to assess his intent. But even as she hesitated, she knew she couldn’t take the chance. She had to know everything he knew. She nodded her agreement.
He breathed out a sigh and nodded. “I will be in the alley behind the club in five minutes. I will be hiding where you can’t see me. If you are not alone, you will never see me again. Don’t let me down, Alexis. You’re my only hope. I am a desperate man.”
He stood and bowed slightly to her, then turned and walked to the exit.
Lexie sat for a long moment considering her options. She wasn’t sure that she could stand, wasn’t sure that her legs would hold her or that she could walk from the room. Even though every fiber of her being shouted a warning, she knew she would meet him. Just as clearly, she knew that she would meet him alone. She recognized a kindred spirit. She was as desperate as he was.
The decision galvanized her, flooded her with resolve. Standing, she turned to see Clint staring at her, his expression stern, questioning. She plastered a big smile on her face and waved to him. Walking close to his table, she gave him a thumbs up sign and headed for the bar. Brady came out of nowhere and bumped into her. When she stumbled back, he caught her and pulled her close to him, his voice a harsh whisper in her ear.
“What the fuck was that about, Lexie?”
She smiled up at him.
“Relax, honey. That little boy wanted what they all want. To show me the prize he thinks no other man has.”
Lexie saw that angry concern had replaced his usual teasing humor. She punched his arm and said loud enough for the men at the surrounding tables to hear, “Now, stop teasing me or you aren’t going to be my favorite blond haired surfer dude.”
Pointing to the table in front of them, she pulled away from Brady and threw her arm around an unsuspecting youngster who choked on his beer and flushed bright red.
Putting more distance between her and Brady, she crooned to the blushing object of her attention, “What do you think, surfer boy? How about I get us both a beer and we get to know one another?’
The kid’s Adam’s apple bobbled in his throat as he croaked out something that sounded like agreement.
Ignoring Brady’s frown, she waltzed away, heading for the break room at the back of the club.
~~~
Breathing hard, Lexie stripped off her costume and yanked her clothes out of her locker. Refusing to look at the hideous photo, she buried it under the scraps of red satin.
Fortunately, today she’d worn sweats and boots. Some guardian angel must have been watching over her, she decided as she tested her kama blade that she always carried in her boot. She wasn’t crazy. She knew she was taking a chance. Tossing her costume in her locker, she slammed the door shut, engaging the lock. Staring in the mirror, she was struck by her eyes. They were as intense as the man’s she was meeting. She turned quickly, determined not to second guess herself.
At the doorway, she hesitated, looking both ways down the narrow hallway, half expecting to see Brady or even Clint lurking in the shadows. But the long expanse was empty. She forced herself to walk confidently when she longed to race to the end. There was just one blind corner to go before reaching the outside door. As she turned the corner, she suppressed a scream. The cold metal at the base of her skull and the ominous click left nothing to the imagination. Neither did the accent laden voice thick with distain.
“Well, well, well. Look what we have here.”
A large hand twisted her hair, viciously jerking her head back against the gun barrel. His voice was low, seductive in its evil.
“You are more beautiful than we were told. I’m glad to know that the Boss isn’t greedy. He always shares. After he’s had his fill, of course.”
Chapter 24
Jake glanced down at his phone as he took the steps into the club two at a time. Seeing Brady’s cryptic message “:hurry”, he searched the semi dark crowded room for his men. Spotting Brady lounging against the bar and Clint moving towards him, Jake’s gut clenched. He didn’t need the prickling nerve endings crawling up the back of his neck to know that something was wrong, very wrong.
Signaling the bartender for a beer, he grabbed the stool next to Brady and made a production of freeing up a space for Clint. The three of them made small talk as though meeting for the first time.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been watching that fucking doorway to their dressing room for five minutes now and she’s still not back.”
The lack of a smart comment from Brady was more frightening than his words. Jake turned to Clint with a hard glare and a questioning jerk of his head.
Clint hunched over leaning his forearms against the bar’s slick surface.
“There was a strange guy, Jake. Couldn’t place him. He obviously upset her. She tried to hide it. The fact she couldn’t, scared the shit out of me. You know how smooth she is. He got to her. Somehow. Some way.”
Brady concurred. “Clint’s dead right. She looked like she saw a ghost.” He tipped his bottle up and took a lazy sip of his beer. “And, big guy, don’t wanna freak you out anymore, but she’s not answering her phone and I’ve sent her six texts. No response.”
Jake fought back the dread clamping a tight fist around his chest. Motioning to the doorway with his bottle, he asked in a loud voice, “Hey, that where the head is?”
Clint turned back to the bar and mumbled, “Yeah, buddy, I think there’s one down that hallway.”
Brady drained his bottle and clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder in a show of semi-drunk camaraderie. “That’s a hell of a good idea, man. Gotta make room for the brew.”
Jake headed toward the exit, forcing himself to move casually, nodding politely to Brady to go ahead of him. When they entered the back hall, Jake grabbed Brady’s arm.
“Where’s the dressing room?”
Brady pointed to the left. “That hallway leads out to the alley. Dressing room is second door on the right.”
A shrill voice rang out.
“What the hell are you two doing back here? Can’t you read the sign? This area’s private, off limits.”
Jake turned to see Bella hustling down the hallway. Annoyance radiated off her small frame. She looked like a mother hen out to shoo away a flock of errant roosters.
“Absolutely no men are allowed back here.” She marched toward them, then stopped, surprise replacing her annoyance. Recognition flashed in her eyes.
Planting her fists on her curvy hips, she glared at Jake.
“That’s especially true for you.”
Jake moved imperceptibly toward her.
“Where is she?”
Bella jerked up her chin then stepped back. Her voice was less confident that it had been seconds before.
“She...she doesn’t want to see you. She gave strict orders. You need to leave now or I will have you thrown out.”
Jake pinned her with a hard glare. His voice was soft.
“You could try.”
Taking a half step toward her, forcing her back against the wall, he didn’t hide the threat in his voice.
“Where is she, Bella?”
Bella started, seemingly surprised that he knew her name. She visibly swallowed and pressed herself against the wall. His looming presence melted her resistance.
“I… I’m not sure.” She nodded at one of the rooms down the hallway. “I saw her go into the dressing room a while ago.”
Jake turned and moved quickly toward the room with Brady hard on his heels. The sound of heavy footsteps behind them signaled Clint’s arrival.
“Wait!” Bella’s voice was sharp. “You can’t go in there. That’s private. Absolutely no men are allowed in the dressing room…”
Jake kicked open the door and called out. “Coming in.” His deep voice was calm, laced with steel.
Jake glanced around the empty
room as Brady pushed by him striding toward the bathroom.
Jake motioned to Clint to come in. He heard Brady’s warning shout and stall doors slamming from the adjoining room. Seconds later, Brady, met his gaze.
“No one’s there. Empty.”
Jake whirled around to face Bella. His voice was soft, threatening.
“You have one minute to tell me exactly when you saw her last and who was with her. NOW!”
Bella stammered. “I…I don’t know. I told you, I saw her go in here about ten minutes ago. I assumed she had to pee. She never leaves the floor during a shift unless she needs a bathroom break.”
Bella paled, her face contorted with fear. “Why? Is something wrong?”
Jake nodded at the row of lockers on the wall.
“Which is hers?”
Bella pointed to the one three down from the end. Brady was there in seconds. He yanked at the handle then drove his fist into the flimsy metal, breaking the lock.
In two long strides Jake was at his side. He pulled out the skanky costume and started to toss it aside when what looked like a photo fluttered to the floor. Brady beat him to it, snatching it off the floor.
Brady’s face blanched. He looked up at Jake, his eyes wide with horror.
“Holy fucking Christ!”