Chapter 12
TWELVE
I sat in a darkened corner of Bourbon's office, antsy to get out of here, despite the joint I'd smoked on my way over.
Tatiana had disappeared.
It had been three days since I’d heard from her, despite her promise to stay at my house.
It wasn’t uncommon for her to disappear from my life but my gut instincts told me something was wrong.
I'd texted and called, with no answer. Then I’d tried Rook but he'd only sent me the middle finger emoji in response.
I'd let it go.
Until tonight, when I'd gotten a phone call from Candy, one of the other strippers, that Tatiana hadn't shown up for work.
I'd barely hung up when Coulter had texted, telling me to get my ass to Bourbon's office for a meeting. Bourbon wasn't the kind of boss to hold meetings just because he needed his ass scratched, so I knew it was important.
The door opened and Dante strode inside, the scowl permanently etched on his face in place.
He paused, noting that everyone else was already here. His scowl grew deeper and, without a word, sat next to Torian on the black, leather sofa across from Bourbon’s desk.
Now that we were all here, without saying a word, Bourbon pulled out a clear Ziploc bag and deliberately placed it on his desk. There looked to be about a hundred pink pills inside, stamped with a crown - our logo under the old Don.
No one spoke. It was our ozone pills, but something was different about them.
When ozone first came out, it was branded as a designer drug. Popular actors, musicians, and influencers were hired to use it in clubs across the country, while withholding supply of the product.
That made the demand, and the price, skyrocket.
It had taken us months of negotiations to get access to the pills—something the Mendoza cartel was itching to take from us.
"This," Coulter finally spoke, pointing at the bag, "was confiscated from one of Mendoza’s men, selling at Posh.”
Dante, who was sitting closest to Bourbon’s desk, grabbed the bag, studying it. "They’ve done something to it."
Bourbon nodded. "Exactly."
"What did they do?" I asked, trying to get to the point quickly.
"They've added fentanyl,” Coulter answered.
Once again, the room was silent as everyone processed this.
One of the reasons ozone was so popular was because it was similar to ecstasy: it was a fun drug with little to no risk of overdosing. But now, if the cartel was adding fentanyl...
I broke the silence, “How many people have died?"
"Five. Four were at the same party, a private one.” Coulter said. “One more, after leaving one of our clubs."
"Shit," Dante cursed.
Bourbon looked at us. “We need to find out where they're cutting this. Take one of their men, get the information from him."
"What happened to the guy you caught with this?” Dante nodded towards the bag.
"He’s dead,” Torian answered.
“Did you at least get anything from him first?” Dante asked.
“No, he died when we confiscated it.” Torian said.
"Fuuuck," I breathed out. This was some shit.
"They're putting our stamp on it; they want us to take the blame,” Coulter said. “We need to handle this.”
I tapped my foot, and Bourbon growled out, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Knight?"
"Tatiana. I think something’s wrong. She didn't show up for work today.”
He raised an eyebrow, his only response.
"She never not shows up. She's not answering her phone."
"And your friend?" he asked, referring to Rook.
"He told me to fuck off." I spit out. “And he's not my friend.”
"If Rook told you to fuck off, she's probably fine," Coulter said.
I shook my head. "He's out of the country right now." I sat on the edge of my seat, feeling the need to stand and pace like I was motherfucking Coulter or some shit. "I don't know, man. Something feels off."
"All right, then," Bourbon jerked his head at me, "Go find her. We'll take care of this."
"Thank you, sir," I said, out the door faster than I could hear him respond, and was down the hallway before my phone rang.
Unknown number. "What?"
"They cut my legs off." Tatiana's sultry voice came through the phone.
My heart stopped. "Who?"
"They said it was him . Not them."
"They cut your legs off?” I was already racing out the door and towards my car.
"Yeah," she sniffled. "My arms, they're dragging on the ground. Otherwise I wouldn't care, you know? I don't need my legs, but I don't want my arms to drag." She started to cry, and my heart shredded. "Knight," her voice lowered to a whisper. "What if my knuckles get calluses on them? I usually wrap them with tape when I spar.”
What the fuck was wrong with her?
"Where are you?" I started my car, the engine roaring as I shot out of my parking space.
"I'm in the stars, Knight!" She was yelling now. "In. The. Stars!"
"Tati. Baby. I need you to focus. Are you in the city?" I idled at the entrance to the parking lot, needing some kind of idea which direction to turn.
"I told you, Knight," she sounded annoyed. "I'm in the stars."
A horn blared behind me, bright lights flickering in my rearview mirror. I rolled down my window, shooting them the bird.
"Oh. God." Tatiana's voice wobbled. "I don't feel so good." There was a pause, then I heard retching, heavy breathing, then she threw up.
Squeals sounded in the background. "Ewe, gross!"
So she was in a place with people around her.
The car behind me revved its engine, then pulled up next to me. Instead of passing me, they paused, revving their engine over and over, rolling down their passenger window.
"Hey, asshole!" Some guy with spiked, dyed blond hair yelled at me. "You don't own the road."
Sighing in annoyance, I rolled down my window, sparing him a glance. "Just move on."
At the sight of me, he paled. "It's you."
I had no idea who this guy was, but apparently he knew who I was. I didn’t answer.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said.
I rolled my window back up, forgetting about him and he sped off.
"Tati, baby, speak to me." She'd been throwing up the whole time. "Are you okay?"
She took several breaths, then I heard the phone move. "Yeah. I think I'm okay." Her voice was soft and vulnerable in a way I hadn't heard in a long time. "Can you come get me?"
"Tell me where you are."
"I'm not sure," her voice wobbled.
"Are there people surrounding you?"
"Yes. A girl. She stopped to ask if I'm okay."
My view of the world changed, and I suddenly believed in the goodness of people again. “Give her the phone."
There was a rustling noise and then a girl’s uncertain voice. "Hello?"
"Tell me where you are," I barked out, and the girl hesitated, stumbling over her words. It took her a while to answer.
“Las Vegas Boulevard.”
“What’s the closest street nearby.”
Again, it felt like it took her a fucking century to answer. “West Flamingo.”
I almost dropped the phone. That was only a few blocks away. I jumped out of my car, rushing in that direction, ignoring the beeping noise my car was making because I had my keys in my pocket.
"What's wrong with her?" I said into the phone, pushing people out of the way as I hit the strip.
"I'm not sure, she looked a bit drugged out." I growled at that, and the girl hesitated, stumbling over her words again. “I—I think. I’m not sure.”
"Her legs," I asked. "What's wrong with her legs?"
"Her legs?" the girl sounded confused. "Her legs are fine, but her shoulder is hurt. She's got blood on it." There was more background noise, it sounded like a guy and he was talking.
"What's your name, honey?"
"Her name is Tatiana,” I snarled. “And he doesn't need to know anymore about her."
“Hey! He’s just trying to help.”
I bit down on my response, trying to tamp down my anger, knowing it wouldn't help the situation. "What are you in front of? So I can find you.”
“Some water fountain thing.”
I was only a block away now. "Ok, I'll be there soon."
Within a minute, I could see them. Tatiana was curled up on the ground, and the couple hovered over her, worry on their faces.
Most people barely gave them a glance and I wanted to punch them all in the face. What the fuck kind of world did we live in where people just walked by something like that?
It made me want to burn the world down.
I raced towards her, my eyes tracing over what I could see. Tatiana’s hair was in tangles and dirt was smudged over her whole body. She looked like a high-end homeless person. Her dress was torn, and she didn't have any shoes on.
I growled when I saw the wound on her shoulder; it looked like a bullet wound. Someone was going to die.
I shot off a quick text to Coulter and Dante, telling them to meet me here. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I shrugged off my Armani jacket and, kneeling next to her, wrapped it around her. I sat down and pulled her into my lap.
“Polva, love.” She was shivering and sweat-drenched. "What happened, baby?”
"Knight," her lips trembled and she pulled the jacket tighter around her. "You're here."
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She frowned, her teeth biting over that freckle on her lip, like she used to do when she was a kid. "I wasn’t sure you’d come."
For fuck’s sake! “Of course I would. Never doubt that, Tati.”
The couple next to us shifted uncomfortably, like they were going to leave and I looked up at them, giving them a glare. "Stay right here."
They froze, locked in place, then a guy with bulging muscles showing through an orange tank top and skinny jeans, frowned. “You asshole.”
“Don’t fucking move,” I repeated myself, then focused my attention on Tatiana, ignoring the blonde, blue-eyed girl trying to calm the guy down. I adjusted her, being careful not to hurt her injured arm. "What happened?"
At this, her face closed off, and she bit down on her lip, looking away.
"Tatiana, answer me. Who hurt you?"
"I can't tell you."
"The fuck you can't."
She only tilted her head up stubbornly, her nails scratching at her inner arm. I pulled away the coat to stare at what she was scratching at. When I saw the track marks in her arm, my blood went cold.
What the ever-loving fuck?
"Who did this to you?" When she wouldn't look me in the eyes, I grabbed her chin, forcing her. "Did you do this to yourself? Did you relapse?"
Hurt flashed in her eyes, tears welling in them, and regret filled me. Of course, she hadn't. Since she’d moved here, I’d never seen her near drugs, except for an occasional hit off my joint when we were together.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I know you didn't." That only made my anger surge higher. “Then someone did this to you. Tell me fucking who, Tatiana.”
“Someone made her take drugs?" The girl over my shoulder said, her voice filled with an edge of panic.
Tourists . I ground my molars. They’d helped her, I tried to reason. At that moment, both Dante and Coulter appeared. Thank fuck.
"Knight. What happened?” Coulter asked.
I jerked my head towards the couple, needing them out of my hair. "They found her here, throwing up." I nodded towards the pile of vomit on the street.
Coulter immediately understood what I needed. He flashed his famous smile. "You guys visiting?"
“Yes, we just got here last night. It's our first time on the Vegas strip." The blonde girl didn't move, though he tried to gently prod them away.
"Welcome to Vegas," he tried to laugh off what was happening. "I own a few hotels and casinos in the area. Where are you staying now? Maybe I can put you up in one of our suites and comp your meals for your help."
With the promise of free shit, they finally began to take Coulter's guidance and followed him down the street, though the girl still glanced back at us. Orange tank top guy was licking his lips, clearly ready for the royal treatment.
"What do you need?" Dante asked me.
"I'm going to take her to my house in Spanish Estates. Meet me there with the doctor. And, Dante," I looked him in the eyes, "I have a bad feeling about this. I need you to call Avery."
Dante's face hardened, but he nodded.
This was what family was about.
Dante and Avery weren’t on speaking terms but, regardless of what was going on between them, Dante would put Tatiana’s safety first.
I picked her up, cradling her against my chest, and carried her towards my car.
“Knight,” she trembled against me, “I don’t feel so good.”
“I know, sweetheart,” I kissed the top of her head. “But we’re going to take care of that.