Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
B ex wrapped her coat around the short slinky dress. It was Saturday night and she was on her way back to WET. None of the victims had been VIPs, so her cover was that of a single party girl. Meaning, she had to once again wait in line outside and hope to be let in.
Not so fun when club fashion was as little clothing as possible, yet the New York winter fashion was as many socks and thick gloves as you could wear. Bex was already in a mood and the cold didn’t make it any better. She didn’t like that Seabrook insinuated if she couldn’t find evidence, she should plant it. And she didn’t like that she was going to once again try to find a way into the club. In fact, she kind of hoped she’d be stuck waiting in line all night. Then she could tell Seabrook she wasn’t allowed in.
“Yo! Where you heading this late?” her brother shouted from the backdoor.
“Work,” she told him as she flashed him the dress under the coat and he nodded in understanding.
“Wait up.” TJ jogged down the back stairs in nothing but sweats and a T-shirt, apparently immune to the cold weather. “You don’t look happy. Is it about what we talked about? The clubs?”
“Not really.” Bex bit her bottom lip and then released it as she remembered she was wearing lipstick. “Have you ever been told to do something by a superior and then in the course of the investigation discovered they were a hundred percent wrong, but they don’t want to hear it?”
TJ frowned as his jaw tightened. He clearly understood her situation. “Is it Sean?” Bex shook her head. She could see TJ running through a list of superiors and as he did his frown deepened. “You have to follow the law, Bex. Go where it leads you. You can piss off your superior. But if you commit a crime or turn a blind eye, it’s you who is going to end up getting burned. Go by the book, and if things get bad, call in your union rep or internal affairs. But don’t cross that line, Bex, not that you would. You know the fam has your back if push comes to shove and we don’t give a shit who we shove back. Got it?”
Bex hugged her brother. “Thank you. That was the pep talk I needed.”
The car service she was taking pulled up to the curb and her brother walked her to the car. “Call me if you need me. I mean it, Bex.”
“I will. I’m not in any danger. It’s just an investigation at this time. But thank you. It means a lot to me, TJ.” Bex gave him a smile then it was off to wait in line, hopefully for the rest of the night.
Crap. What kind of luck was that? Bex handed her ID to the doorman to get registered in line and the second he scanned it, he moved the velvet rope and let her in. The people in the long line groaned that she was able to get in and they weren’t.
The doorman and the security guard didn’t say why she was let in when others weren’t as she made her way inside. She checked her coat and already felt her body warming up. She’d deliberately gotten there a little late so she had less of a chance of her getting in. As a result, the dance floor was already full, music was going, and the guest DJ was about to appear. The crowd was large and as electric as the music.
Bex glanced over at the bar and noticed Luna from last night and a new male bartender with a surprisingly similar floppy, big hairdo to Sasha. He clearly put in more effort to get it to stand up like that than Luna did for her ponytail. Tonight, the bar was too packed to hang out at so Bex decided to take a stroll along the perimeter.
Music pumped, lights flashed, and the vibration of the bass pulsed as Bex began to walk around the edge of the room. A man stepped out in front of her, but because she was looking around her, Bex didn’t get out of the way fast enough and slammed into his back.
“I’m so sorry!” Bex yelled over the music.
The man turned and flashed her a smile. “It’s my fault. Can I get you a drink to make up for it?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Bex knew better than to let someone else get her a drink. Here or anywhere. “Again, sorry I ran into you.”
The man was just under six feet with dark brown hair, dark chocolate brown eyes, and had a tattoo of a playing card on his light golden-brown skin that was trying to peek out from where his dress shirt was unbuttoned.
“How about a dance then?” He paused and looked around quickly. “Unless you’re here with someone?”
Bex glanced around and saw the number of people on the dance floor. She’d be able to get closer to a larger group of people to see if anyone was selling drugs. “A dance would be great.”
The man held out his hand and she placed hers in his. His hand was warm as he cleared a path for her to the middle of the dance floor. He placed his hands on Bex’s hips and pulled her against him. In her heels, she was almost the same height as him as they began to sway to the music.
He smiled down at her and shook her hips with his hands. “You need to loosen up, mamacita .” Bex blushed a little. She wasn’t the best dancer around, but he was right. She was very stiff in her movements. “You want a little something to help you relax ?” The way his smooth voice said ‘relax’ had a double meaning all through it. This was it. She was going to make her case right here.
“You can help me with that?” Bex asked, glad her phone was recording where she had it stuck in her bra.
“Just for you, mamacita ,” he purred into her ear as one of his hands ran up her arm to gently clasp her neck.
His other drifted down her hip. His fingers made little circles under the hem of her dress as he leaned his forehead against hers and seemed to breathe her in. Bex fought her instincts to back away. The man was a drug dealer. However, she had to go along with it until he handed her whatever drug he was going to give her.
“Ow!” Bex jumped back as she felt a pinch on the fleshy part of the side of her butt.
“Sorry, mamacita , I couldn’t resist a pinch of that fine ass of yours.”
“I thought you were going to help me relax,” Bex whined like some of the women in line had done.
“You want me to do it right here in the middle of the dance floor?”
“Yeah,” Bex begged, trying to sound like a party girl who just wanted to score some drugs.
“Your wish is my command.” He leaned forward and kissed her as he pulled her tight against him. He held her to him as he ground against her. Bex didn’t know what was happening as one song turned into another and several minutes passed by as his hands grabbed her ass and kept her hips tight against his.
“Give it to me now,” Bex whispered, hoping she sounded in character.
She felt the man chuckle as his hands continued to run up and down her back and along her sides. Bex took a deep breath. The room spun as if she were drunk. Her body felt so relaxed.
“I’ve already given it to you, puta .” His menacing voice seemed farther away than the inch he was from her.
It was hard to focus. Her body felt so tired that it would take a monumental effort to move it. Shit. She’d been roofied. “No,” she croaked out as he began to move her off the dance floor and into a hallway leading to the bathrooms. Speaking seemed to take so much effort that she gave up trying. She leaned against him, her eyes not focusing since she was so disoriented. She’d screwed up. And now she was going to pay for it.
* * *
Wilder flagged Tiffany Anderson’s ID the second Hardy scanned it, a green check mark showed up on his screen, alerting Hardy to the fact she was to be immediately allowed in. Tiffany was a puzzle that needed to be solved.
Wilder stood guard at the wall of one-way windows looking out at his club. He glanced at the bank of security cameras and then back at the main level. He trailed Tiffany’s curly brown hair that was left down tonight as she made her way around the floor. She didn’t stop for a drink and tonight she was alone. Was she here to make a deal?
The tablet made a noise indicating an emergency text from one of his staff. He lifted it up and read the message from Luna. Two girls were asking for a Love Bomb. Wilder instructed Tiny to ban them from the club and escort them out.
He’d taken his eyes off Tiffany for just a moment and had to search for her in the crowd until he found her talking to a man. Jealousy flared to life unexpectedly. Wilder crossed his arms and watched. He had no reason to be jealous. The woman could be a drug dealer. But then he saw them going to dance. Wilder didn’t even like to dance, but it took all his restraint to not storm down there and let everyone, including Tiffany, know that the only man allowed to have her in their arms was him.
One song went to another and the man began to get handsy, not that Tiffany seemed to mind. It could be him. All Wilder had to do was go downstairs and ask her to dance. He hadn’t imagined the flare of interest in her eyes when she saw him, had he? He watched as the man rested his forehead against Tiffany’s. There wasn’t any space between them. “Dammit,” Wilder cursed. If only . . . wait.
Wilder leaned closer to the window. Tiffany swayed on her feet and suddenly he was leading her off the floor. She was walking, but as if she were drunk. He’d been watching her from the second she stepped foot in the club. She hadn’t had a single drink. She wasn’t drunk. She was drugged!
Wilder didn’t think twice. He was already yanking the door to his office open and racing for the exit. He should have intercepted her the moment he arrived. Then she wouldn’t be in danger. And here he’d thought she was the dealer. No, she was the victim.
* * *
Nothing was working. Bex couldn’t get her brain to make her body respond. The backdoor opened and she felt the cold air hit her. She tried to scream for help, but nothing came out except a groan. The man had one of her arms around his neck as he had his arm around her waist. He propelled her out into the alley. He never looked up as he took her deeper into the alley and behind the dumpster.
“No,” Bex managed to mumble as her jewelry was ripped from her body and his hands began to wander. She was so nauseous she thought she’d throw up.
“What do we have here?” He shoved his hand down the top of her dress, grabbed her phone, and threw it to the ground. Then he ran his hands all over her body before he shoved her skirt up. Bex knew something was wrong. She knew something was happening that she didn’t want. She just couldn’t stop it. All of her power has been stripped away and the feeling was torturous. “No wire. You dumb puta . He said if I do this that I get to do whatever I want with you. And what I want is you.”
“No.” Bex fought. Or at least she tried. She didn’t know if the words came out or not, but she kept repeating them over and over as she tried to force her body to fight. Only, it felt as if she were dissociated from her body and encased in cement at the same time.
Suddenly the man was gone and she was falling to her hands and knees. It probably hurt, but she was too busy vomiting on the ground to feel any pain. As her vision began to fade, she used the last of her energy to grab her phone and shove it back down in her bra. Then she saw feet scuffling. She heard grunts and then screams of pain. All of her training forced her to face the danger instead of hide from it. Bex turned her head and looked up at the two fuzzy figures fighting before everything went black.