Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Hill
I feel eyes on me the entire time I’m in the club. It’s heady to know that people are staring at my body and how I move on the dance floor.
Lucian bumps me with his hip, a wide smile on his face and his hands in the air. I grin at him as I watch him dance and unwind.
It’s been a while since we’ve gone out together and even longer since we’ve had a good time.
The music in this club is fantastic, a mix of newer hits and old school music that sends a wave of nostalgia through me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, but I don’t answer Menace’s text.
I hate that I lied to him. We’ve talked just about every day, and I think we’re building something real, but this is for me. I needed this. I needed a night where I could be who I want to be. Just one.
I’ll message him tomorrow. He’ll understand. Besides, it’s not like we’re exclusive. He’s a world-famous model. I’m under no delusion that I might be his flavor of the month until he finds someone on his level.
But something niggling inside me tells me that might not be true. The way he touched me, kissed me, fucked me…that’s not indicative of a man that only wants a fling.
Unfortunately, I have to be realistic. Menace is in a different stratosphere than I am.
Lucian bumps me again, snapping me from my thoughts. “Come on. Dance with me!”
With a high-pitched laugh, I wrap my arms around him, and we groove to the music.
A set of hands land on my waist and I push back against the man dancing with me. Lucian fades into the crowd, leaving me alone with my suitor. A drink appears in front of me, and I take it gladly.
Lips brush my ear and I shiver. “I haven’t seen you here before,” he says. “You come here often?”
Turning my head slightly, I answer, “Never. You?”
“A time or two. I’m glad you’re here tonight.”
“Me too.”
“What’s your name?” he shouts over the music.
“Hill. Yours?”
“Todd. Great to meet you. You look amazing tonight.”
“Thank you!”
I tip up the drink, my throat moving as I gulp. I feel more than see the man’s smile as I bring the glass to my lips again and again.
The song changes twice as we continue to move together, his hands tight on my body as I work my hips.
He rocks with me to the beat, his crotch pressed tight to my ass. “How’s your drink?”
“Good. Thanks.”
Glass empty, I set it on a tray that a host is walking around with and quickly wipe my mouth.
I turn around to the man and smile. He’s easy on the eyes, with his dark brown upswept hair, dark blue eyes, and thinnish lips. His eyes dance with mischief as he wraps his arm around my waist.
He’s about my height, but about fifteen pounds heavier. He’s built pretty solid.
“Want another?” he asks with a salacious smile.
My arm drapes lazily on his shoulder, but then it falls to his side, as if I have no control over my limbs.
“Wha…” I try to say but cannot finish the word.
The man in front of me smiles widely, showing all of his teeth. “You good?”
I shake my head as if to clear it, but that seems to do nothing but scramble me more. “Air…need…air…”
That mischievous glint from earlier lights up his face and tips his lips up into a smile. “I gotchu. Come on. Hang on to me.”
Tripping over my feet, I hang on to him as he leads me out of the club. When the cool air hits me, I breathe in deeply, reach into my back pocket.
My fingers just press the button when my dance partner drags my hand out, wrapping it around his neck. “That’s right. Come this way with me. You’re going to have a good fucking night.” He laughs in a hard burst, making something inside me twist in disgust.
He drags me to an alley a few blocks away with no foot traffic, where there’s a car waiting.
Yeah, we’re not getting that far.
Dropping the act, I stand upright and shake the man off me.
He planned his act well; I’ll give him credit for that. But I plan better.
He’s stunned, looking down at me as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“Don’t fucking touch me, you fucking creep,” I seethe, turning toward him and kneeing him in the balls hard enough to make them invert into his body.
He cries out sharply and drops to the ground, holding himself in pain.
Bending down, I unclasp the switchblade that was tucked into my boot, flicking it open so the metal glints off the low streetlights. “Get on your knees,” I growl, pressing it into his nostril and pulling up slightly, so he feels the sharpness of the blade in his flesh. “Get the fuck up.”
Todd holds his hands up in a show of surrender, slowly climbing to his knees. “Please, don’t,” he begs, tears streaking down his face.
I scoff as I peer down my nose at him, disgusted that he thought it was a good idea to slip shit in people’s drinks, like this shit wouldn’t come back to him.
Lucian’s contact told him about a man that’s been drugging people in several bars across the city, but nothing has been done about it. No proof.
All it took was for Lucian to visit a club he was at one time for him to catch Todd in the fucking act. Now it’s time I shut this shit down and make sure he has no more victims.
We knew it would be tricky to get him outside and in a perfect place to off him, but Lucian figured I’d be his type and we came up with a plan.
I’d wear clothes I’d never be caught dead in, cover all my tattoos and wait.
When Todd presented me with a drink, I’d feign downing it and spill it all over the dance floor when he wasn’t watching.
It was risky, but I knew I could pull it off.
Now I have him on his knees, begging me for mercy he didn’t show his victims.
“Fuck you, you rapist piece of shit,” I snarl.
He looks at me pleadingly before his expression changes, if only just a little. He roars, as if to charge at me, but I’m expecting him to try to fight his way out of this. Smiling, I let him get to his feet and run at me, his arms outstretched and a look of rage on his face.
Ducking, I avoid his hands and jab the blade into his belly, digging in deep.
A blood-curdling scream leaves his lips as he rolls around on the ground, holding his wound.
“Oh my god,” he cries, looking down at his gut and bloody hands. “Oh, my god. You stabbed me. You…I need a doctor. Please help me.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I hiss, putting a boot on his face and pressing down against his lips. “I know your fucking victims begged you to cut the shit when they knew they were drugged. Did you?” I remove my boot and kick him in the face.
He cries out, his hands going to his mouth. “I’m sorry. Don’t kill me,” he begs, his voice quivering. “I never…” he groans in pain, curling in on himself. “I never…killed them. I just—”
“Gave them a lifetime of fucking trauma.” He whimpers and reaches out as if to touch my boot, but I kick his hand away. “Fuck you. The only way to stop a rapist is to kill that fucking rapist.” Grabbing his hair, I pull him up until he’s kneeling in front of me once more.
Placing my knife to his throat, I ask, “Any last words?”
Todd grunts a few times, but I cut him off with a clean slice over his throat, his blood spurting out like a fucking fountain. I let his hair go and watch his body fall. His eyes are still blinking slowly, and he twitches as blood pumps from his wound.
I stand over him, watching him breathe his last. When he exhales roughly and the blood from his neck slows, I grin and close my eyes, letting out a deep breath of my own. It’s been so long since I’ve felt blood on my skin, the dry wetness of it sending a tingle down my spine.
Bending, I wipe the blade and my hand clean on Todd’s shirt.
The sound of gravel moving startles me and I turn, my knife hanging uselessly at my side.
Fuck! I wish we’d caught up to Todd literally anywhere else that I wouldn’t risk being pat down, like at a fucking nightclub. I could have carried my gun, where I wouldn’t feel so fucking naked now that someone is hiding in the shadows.
“Whoever the fuck you are,” I snarl, heart rate through the roof, “show yourself.” I have no leg to stand on. What am I going to do? Rush into the dark and start jabbing at them? I’m fucked but can’t show it.
Hopefully, it’s not a fucking cop. But if it were, they’d have announced themselves or stopped me before I slit Todd’s throat, right?
Releasing a shaky breath, I say, “You have ‘til the count of three to show yourself. One, two…”
“Three,” a deep, rumbling voice says. A voice I fucking recognize.
With a smile on his face, Menace Grant steps into the light.