20. Zoe
20
ZOE
“Oh.”
It’s the only word I can think of in response. At least until the gears in my brain work again and I quickly add a smile and say, “I’m looking forward to showing him a good time.”
But really I’m searching my mind for where I’ve heard the name Nathaniel Rollins before. My search comes up blank. I can’t pinpoint where I’ve heard the name, though something tells me I have…
“Then how about we get things set up?” Boone asks loudly, grinning around at the three of us. “You and Sugar go ahead and get us our drinks to one of the private rooms. We’ll be joining you in a few.”
I nod, my smile almost faltering. I gather the last of the empty glasses at the table I’ve been cleaning and then escape to the bar. Sugar’s in the middle of chitchatting with the bartender when I approach, feeling more uncertain than I ever have during an investigation.
The fact that the hidden camera I’d placed is missing is a huge cause for concern. It makes me wonder if the other one I’d planted in the private room is still there. How else will I capture evidence of what Boone’s facilitating in those rooms?
I’m not wearing a wire or cam myself. If I go in there and it’s gone, everything I’ve done posing undercover will have been in vain.
I’ll also be putting my life on the line again, this time for no return. I was fine with the idea of sacrificing myself if it meant bringing Boone down, but if I won’t even get that win out of this situation, then what the hell am I doing?
“You okay, Jade?” Sugar asks. “You look like you’re a little sick.”
I blink out of my thoughts and roll my shoulders in feigned indifference. “Just a busy night.”
“Is this about Ozzie?” she asks. “I noticed he’s not here tonight. I overheard Boone talking about it earlier. He’s pissed.”
I bet he is.
“Boone wants us in one of the private rooms. Room one should be available, right?”
Please, please let the camera still be there.
Sugar frowns. “I don’t think so. Nova and Versace were in there with some investment banker.”
Shit.
“Oh,” I say, my heart racing. “That’s Boone’s favorite, isn’t it?”
“We can do room five. That’s his other. He really likes all the mirrors and the pole in the middle in that one.”
Sugar’s cluelessness at a time where I’m unsure if I’ve been found out or if I’m in the midst of my undercover investigation unraveling almost makes things worse. She rambles on, telling me about how she’d been in room four last night with Chmura and Moe and how both men had been impatient and rude when they asked her to dance for them.
I’m not listening.
I throw a glance over my shoulder.
Boone, Estrada, and Rollins are where I’ve left them, engaged in a conversation among themselves.
I could walk out. I could turn and head straight for the door right now. I’d make it to the elevator before anyone noticed.
But I’ve committed to this investigation. Can I really walk away when things become murky? I promised myself I’d see this through, no matter what happened.
“Ready?” Sugar asks.
“Sure, give me one second.” I slip behind the bar counter and pull out my phone, my fingers quick on the keypad. I fire off a message to the number I’ve been given. It’ll go straight to the local police department and the code will communicate this is an emergency situation. Send the reinforcements.
We move from the main floor of the lounge to the corridor that leads into the private rooms. Sugar is still oblivious to my concerns as she asks more about Ozzie and then proceeds to tell me a story about a guy from one of Boone’s past tournaments. He dropped out prematurely too and wound up with both kneecaps mysteriously broken.
“So are you over?” she asks. “Who dumped who?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“I bet he had a problem with you doing sex work. Typical club guy,” she says, shaking her head. “He loves us when he’s a client but when he’s the boyfriend, it’s a problem.”
We set the room up like Boone prefers—lights dimmed, TV monitors on with the current game tables displayed, drinks waiting. While Sugar has her back turned, I quickly check my phone to see if I’ve received a message affirming the emergency code I’d sent.
No response.
It’s almost as if the message didn’t even go through. Duchovny said this was the number to contact. Had he given me the wrong number to the local officers on alert?
“Well, look what we have here!”
Boone’s in the doorway, his arms outstretched.
I rush to hide my phone behind my back as I turn around. He steps into the room first, closely followed by Estrada and the man named Nathaniel Rollins.
“We’re not interrupting anything, are we?” he asks suspiciously.
“We were just done,” Sugar says brightly. “Why don’t you boys have a seat and we can entertain you?”
I’m subtle as possible putting my phone down on the credenza table against the wall. I’m facing Boone and the others with my hands behind my back, nudging the phone behind the Aztec warrior figurine on the tabletop. If Boone realizes I’ve brought my phone with me into the private room, that wouldn’t be good.
It would be just another sign that things have taken a turn for the worse.
I’m going to have to get through this as calmly and unscathed as possible. I’ve made it this far. I can last a little longer.
Hopefully backup will come before things go too far left.
Boone and the other two men take their seats and begin talking about the tournament. The TV monitors show the current hand being played and which players have already folded.
“Oz would’ve been killing this if he were here,” Boone says. “It’s a shame he was too pussy to show his face. When’d you last see him, doll?”
“Hmm?” I give him an innocent smile. “He left very early today. I’m not sure where he went.”
Boone doesn’t even pretend to believe me. He strokes his white beard and pops his cigar back into his mouth. “Real interesting he wouldn’t turn up. It doesn’t bode well for him. I don’t take too kindly to people backing out of agreements.”
“Would you gentleman like anything else?” I ask.
Sugar has started gyrating against the stripper pole in the room, doing a few basic moves. Estrada and Rollins seem entertained. But Boone proves more difficult to distract—his dark shades may hide his eyes, but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s peering at me.
He takes a moment to savor his cigar, then blows a fresh curl of smoke out.
“Yeah, I would like something else. It’s time you make good on your services, sweetie. How about a lap dance? Start off nice and slow.”
My gaze drifts to Sugar who clings to the pole in a slow side swing. For once she doesn’t look bubbly and happy or lost and confused. The only two moods she seems capable of. Instead, she glances at me as if she’s aware I’m an actress. I’m faking this entire situation and not really the Jade Fowley I’ve presented myself as.
I’ve never worked in these clubs and I’ve never stripped. I don’t give lap dances.
This whole thing was a cover.
I’m really out to bring Boone and his underground criminal empire down.
I breathe through the flutter of nerves in my stomach and then do my best to seem sweet and flirty.
“Alright,” I say, strutting forward, hand on my hip. “Since you asked nicely.”
He chuckles. “I love a bit of sass. From observing you and Oz, you’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you, sweetie?”
“I guess I’m the spice in the room.”
“Sugar and Spice,” Boone says, the other two matching his amused grin. “That sounds like the perfect duo. Then c’mere and give me a taste of some of that spice.”
The way he talks to me, the way he leers, is sickening. It’s disturbing as my thoughts shift to Zani and I wonder if he and his men ever spoke to her like this. Or had she been an unknown to Boone, just some working girl he hired to profit off, one of many?
Stopping in front of Boone, my hips start to sway and I block out all thoughts about Zani. I’ve got to keep going, stall for more time, and hope that soon this will end. Either Boone and the others will grow bored and move on or the backup from the local PD will finally arrive. It’ll ruin what’s left of the investigation, but what other choice do I have?
It’s that or go through with selling myself.
So much for cozying up to him and doing what was necessary. Duchovny’s bad advice feels like a nightmare as I slowly move my hips and slide my hands over my body.
Boone sits back and puffs on his cigar as he enjoys the show. Sugar’s swinging around the pole while I’m dancing to the slow, pulsing beat. The TV monitors are forgotten about. We’ve become the main attractions.
I stall as long as I can before it becomes infeasible to not touch Boone in some way. For me to climb into his lap and give him the kind of attention these dances require. Sitting astride him, I close my eyes and urge my body to keep moving. I force down the nausea that threatens to rise up at the fact that I’m touching him.
I’m in the lap of the man who’s responsible for Zani’s death.
I circle my hips and let my hands caress my body, focusing on the music and shutting out any other noise.
Boone whistles and rocks his head along, his eyes likely undressing me behind his large sunglasses.
“Now that’s some talent,” he says, laughing. “Take off your top, sweetie.”
I happen to look over my shoulder and see that Sugar’s done so. She’s found a clever way to strip off her Azure Sol crop top while dangling upside down on the pole.
Now it’s my turn.
My breath stalls in my lungs as my fingers reach for the hem of my shirt and I question yet again if the local police were even notified when I sent my message. I’m about to peel off my top when Boone jerks up in his seat and sends me crashing backward to the ground.
“What the fuck is that?!” he shouts. “Is that a phone ?”
All other movement in the room stops. Sugar freezes mid-spin on the pole. Estrada and Rollins drag their gazes off Sugar’s body but remain silent. Only the music and sounds from the TV continue to play.
I scramble to my feet, my pulse pounding harder than ever.
Boone snatches up my phone off the credenza where I’d hidden it and shoots me an angry, accusatory glare. “This yours? Were you recording me?”
“N-no,” I stammer, still playing the role of Jade. I shake my head. “Of… of course not. I brought it in by mistake.”
“Mistake, huh?” Boone drops my phone to the ground, then crushes it with the bottom of his steel-toe leather boot. He starts toward me. “Something tells me that was no mistake. I’ve known there was a snitch somewhere in our group, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint who. It looks like my first hunch was correct.”
“Please, you’re wrong. I’m just here trying to earn some extra cash!”
“I advise you to shut the fuck up, doll!” Boone’s hand shoots out and clamps shut around my throat. He throws me with ease onto the leather sectional he was just seated in. I trip over myself as I’m flung onto the cushions, landing in a twisted position. Before I can even right myself, he’s grabbing me by the back of the neck and wrenching me up. He stands over me, his expression severe, his skin ruddy against the rest of his white hair. “You have a lot to answer for, and trust me, this won’t be ending too good for you.”
“I could say the same to you.”
The voice feels like it comes out of nowhere. Everyone in the room looks up at the same time to find Ozzie standing in the doorway.