Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Nora
W ednesday comes around before I know it and I’m back at Legend, ‘bustin my gams’ as my gran would say. That’s one thing about waiting tables in a busy nightclub—it’s like going to the gym every night. Between the tray lifting, the thirty-thousand steps I average a night, and the lack of time to snack and couch potato, I’ve dropped six pounds and feel stronger than ever.
Physically, at least.
I glance over to the stage area, scanning for Kate. She’s still not talking to me and I’m worried she might never forgive me. There’s a real chance that by the time I get the conflict between my father and Brendan sorted, Kate will be done with me, and I won’t have a bestie to move out with.
I push that thought down and weave through the throngs of bodies on the dance floor. Laughter and shouts mix with the throbbing pulse of the music.
Just another night at Legend.
“Here you are.” I prop my tray on the palm of one hand as I deliver a round of drinks to a highboy near the door between club floors. The group of wasted college boys let off a round of whoops and drumroll on the table as I set down their drinks.
“Cheers, love!” one guy calls out, extending his credit card. “This round is on me, lads.”
I take the card and keep moving. It’s busy for mid-week. The orders keep coming in a never-ending flow. Not that I’m complaining—I’m not—the heightened pace keeps me moving and not dwelling on the overlapping conflicts my life has become.
It’s all become such a muddled mess.
Riding the outer edge of the heaving dance floor, I scan the tables to see if anyone needs anything. Three guys catch my eye to the right of the band stage—well-dressed, slick suits that scream money. They are standing against the dance floor bar rail, studying the crowd.
But what’s weird is that they don’t look like they’re having fun.
My stomach tightens as Brendan’s warning echoes in my mind. Are these McGuire traffickers skulking around, scoping out women to snatch into their sex trade operation?
I look away and keep going, my mind racing. I need to call him, but I’ve already taken my break, and the house rules are that all phones stay in our lockers while we’re on shift.
There’s no question, though—I need to tell Brendan.
Thankfully, Alexis and Jay are both good bosses. They monitor things, but they don’t hover. They trust the staff enough to do their jobs. So after I ring through the frat boy’s credit card, I zip into the back and grab my phone out of my locker unseen.
With it tucked into the waistband of my skirt, I head back out.
After returning the credit card to the college boy with the smile, I approach the stage area again and duck behind an industrial pillar. Positioned in the shadows, I retrieve my phone from its hiding spot and turn off the flash. Yes, it’s dark, but if I can time the snapshots with the sweeping light show, maybe it won’t be too dark.
My heart is racing as I edge around the pillar, looking as nonchalant as I can manage. Oh, no. Kate’s chatting with them, laughter spilling between them like they’re old friends. Is she flirting with them or are they charming her?
Anxiety tingles up my spine as I take my photos.
Get away from them, Kate. Come on. You’ve got great instincts.
But she’s too engrossed in whatever they’re saying to tune in to my mental urging. I need to get these images to Brendan before something bad happens.
Hurrying back to the locker room, I type out a quick text and attach the images I’ve taken.
Could this be them?
I’m standing there, hoping to see three blinking dots, but nothing comes. There’s a checkmark to confirm the message was delivered, but nothing more.
Damn. I consider calling my father, but quickly decide against it. He’ll either think I’m paranoid, use my fear as proof that I can’t work here, or use it against Brendan somehow.
No. Brendan and his brothers are the ones I need.
“Hey, Nora!” Jay shouts as he passes the locker area. “The main bar is running low on glasses! Grab a stack on your way back to the front.”
“On it!” I toss my phone back into my locker, lock things up, and shake off the knot of dread tightening in my gut.
Brendan
Nora asked me once why I would lock myself in a steel cage and invite someone to beat on me. I wasn’t sure how to answer her. But sitting in this fucking meeting, it dawns on me.
Control.
When I’m in a fight—in the zone—the world outside that cage vanishes. There’s just me and my opponent, and the chatter and chaos of the world goes silent. It’s fucking perfect.
I know what I need to do.
I know who my target is.
And I know how to get the job done.
It’s nothing like real life.
I shove my chair back from the meeting table, frustrated that night after night we’ve been sitting around in clubs and we’ve got nothing to report. We’re no closer to finding out who’s taking these girls, where they are being held, or how to stop it before that fucking task force closes in on us.
Tag is edging toward homicidal, and I can’t blame him. He’s carrying the responsibility for the family and our futures, and we’re certainly not making things any easier on him.
Sure, we figured out that the McGuires were framing us in time to find the drugs they planted and defuse their plan.
And yes, we turned the tables by giving the heroine and ketamine they left us to the local heads of families, garnering a little good will among made men.
But as we file out of the meeting room at the MC clubhouse, it feels like Billy Gravely is finally besting us. Sean opens the drop box and we all collect our phones.
“This is bullshit,” Bryan mutters beside me. “This is our fucking territory. Why the fuck can’t we get a handle on this?”
I accept my phone from Sean and unlock it. I have a couple of missed notifications, but the only one that interests me is a text from Nora sent half an hour ago.
Could this be them?
My heart rate kicks up as I open the attached photos. The images are poorly lit and taken at weird angles, but clear enough I can make out the three men in suits. “Oi, take a look at these. Does anyone recognize these assholes? Nora sent these from Legend.”
The phone makes its way around the group, each of us studying the images before passing it on. No one seems to know them.
“Not McGuire’s usual crew,” Kieran says, handing the phone back.
“Does that mean anything?” Keefer scratches the back of his neck. “There’s new management. They might’ve pulled in new blood, too.”
“Send those to Piper,” Sean suggests. “She might know them.”
I forward the photos to my sister-in-law and a moment later my phone pings with her response. “Shit. She says they’re Billy Gravely’s men. Used to see them at McGuire events but doesn’t remember their names.”
“And you said these were taken at Legend?” Tag’s gaze narrows.
“Aye. Nora sent them.”
A dangerous smile spreads across Tag’s face. “Then it looks like we have guests on our side of the river. Let’s go say hello, lads.”