7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Lucy
Ifelt queasy as I got off the Muni at the same exact station where I’d last seen Dax a few days ago.
I’d spent those days trying to convince myself I was doing the right thing.
I had been physically sick when my brain racked over everything that happened to Tara.
I hadn’t left my apartment other than a quick stop at the market to get a pint of Half Baked and a visit to the laundromat.
I knew I was on edge after everything that happened, but something strange occurred while I watched my garments tumble in the drier.
A sudden sense of dread, a tingling on the back of my neck that made me feel as though I was being watched.
I’d never felt something like that before.
My fight or flight instinct suddenly kicked into gear, with an overwhelming urge to flee.
I took my clothes out of the drier even though they were still damp and rushed back home.
It was hard to describe the feeling, but I knew I had to listen to it.
I chalked it up to being stressed out over Tara’s attack, but something deep down told me there was more to it.
I started making my way toward the restaurant, peeking over my shoulder with my hoodie up as I walked down the shadowy sidewalk.
Part of me felt like I shouldn’t be doing this.
Tara told me she didn’t want to go to the police.
I hadn’t heard from her other than an email telling me she arrived at her parents’ house safely and a text this morning from her new phone number.
I knew ultimately it would have to be her decision on whether or not to press charges against Chad and Gabe for what they did to her.
There was a chance she might never want to, and while I didn’t understand it, I had to respect her choice.
Regardless, I was doing this for her. Because if the time ever came she changed her mind, I wanted to make sure she could. I watched enough true crime to know the longer something like this was left unresolved, the harder it would be to prove it ever happened.
The buildings started to look familiar, and suddenly I was standing in front of the large, sparkling clean windows of Ristorante Bellissima.
The impulse to turn right back around and go home clawed rapidly in my throat.
I didn’t really have a plan, and I quickly tried to format a script inside my head.
Hey there, remember me? Yeah, I know I stole your Crocs and tried to run out on a tab at your restaurant. Does this place have security cameras? It would be great if you could invite me in so I can track down a couple of rapists. Pretty please with cherries on top?
I was so busy trying to work up my courage I didn’t notice Dax until he was right in front of me behind the glass. My pulse pounded in my ears as I took in the wary look splayed across his perfectly molded features. Those striking eyes of his were dark as he unlocked the door.
“What are you doing here, Lucy?”
My insides melted as a rush of heat flooded my stomach. He remembered my name.
Stupid. Of course he did. How many other women did he have trying to dine and dash, washing their debts away in heels?
“It was starting to get homesick,” I said, stretching out my arm.
Dax’s gaze drifted down to his chef’s coat draped across it. He raised a dark eyebrow, then opened the door all the way and gestured for me to come in.
I fell back in my sneakers for a moment, taking a deep breath before I put on my brave face and followed him inside.
I tried not to notice the way his muscles rippled underneath the black fabric of a T-shirt that looked like it was made for him.
His tattooed arms swung low at his sides. Damn him for being so good-looking.
The irrational part of me said it was his fault.
Sort of. If he hadn’t made me wash the dishes, if I hadn’t been stuck in this restaurant, then maybe I would have seen what was happening to Tara.
Maybe I could have stopped it. The bitter, heated notion dissipated as I walked behind him.
It wasn’t right to blame it on him. He couldn’t have known any more than I did what was happening outside of the walls of this place.
He faced me once we reached a small area near the host stand.
“I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised to see you here again.
” His deep voice was soft but it carried in the emptiness of the restaurant.
The warm glow of the crystal chandeliers cast a golden light onto the edges of his cheekbones and the curve of his lips.
What the fuck, Lucy? Stop looking at his lips.
“Probably not nearly as surprised as I am,” I told him, trying my best to keep my gaze aligned with his. I wasn’t here to admire the beauty the universe decided to bless this man with. I was here for information. Justice.
“You can’t really be here just to give me back my jacket. What do you want?” His tone was gruff, and I tried not to flinch as I placed the jacket down on the host stand.
I decided not to beat around the bush. “Does this restaurant have security cameras?”
“Why?” Suspicion tainted his voice, and I immediately wished I had started off with something a little smoother.
I peered around him and noticed Bianca sitting with Ricky at a table back near the bar. She was looking our way snidely, but Ricky seemed positively delighted to see me standing there. He gave me a little wave, and my mouth quirked into a small smile before my eyes trailed back to Dax.
As much as I needed his help, I wasn’t sure how much I should tell him. I needed to respect Tara’s privacy, but I also wasn’t sure what to do if he wouldn’t help me.
“I was hoping I might be able to take a look at the footage from the other night when I was here.”
Dax’s lips deepened into a scowl. “Luce, if this is your way of trying to make a threat, you should know you’re doing a really shitty job of it.”
“What?” I asked, a little annoyed by the nickname he’d bestowed me with the other night. “I’m not here to threaten you, I need your help,” I tried to explain.
“Really? So, you’re not here to try and sue me for breaking OSHA laws by having you in that dish-pit the other night?”
I wanted to wipe the smug look right off his chiseled face.
I needed to reign myself in if I was going to get his help, though.
“No! Jesus, I never even considered that,” I assured.
“Look, something happened to my friend that night. Something very bad that involved the men we met here for dinner. I’m hoping to get a look at your security feed to see if there is anything I can find to help identify them. ”
Dax didn’t say anything for a moment as his glacial eyes surveyed me. My stomach clenched. That gaze made me equal parts nervous and turned on, though I didn’t want to admit the latter.
“I have cameras,” he said finally. “I’ll let you watch the footage on the condition you’re not gonna cause any more trouble for me after this.”
I nodded. “I promise.”
With a final assessing eye, he motioned for me to follow him through the restaurant.
He avoided the table where Bianca and Ricky sat.
Ricky was openly staring our way while Bianca pointedly kept her head down, peering intently at the fan of cards in her hand.
The faint smell of garlic and fresh bread hung in the air, even though the restaurant was clean and empty.
Dax led me down the same hallway Bianca made me wait in the other night, but we walked past that spot to a door that hung slightly ajar.
Dax’s office was small and tidy. The desk had so many monitors on it I wasn’t sure where to look. I took the seat across from him as he flicked on the screens, each showing different angles inside and out of the restaurant.
I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, but I definitely didn’t think so many cameras were typical for a restaurant.
“What time were you here for dinner?” he asked me, his eyes studying the screens expertly.
“We got here right around seven o’clock,” I told him, trying to steady my voice even as my hands were shaking. I took a deep breath in and out, trying to calm my nerves.
He pointed toward a screen featuring the display of tables in the main dining room. “Which table?” he asked.
I studied the screen, trying to decipher where each table stood. “That one.” I pointed at a table in the middle of the monitor once I’d figured it out.
Dax started scrubbing back the timeline on the video feed, a blur of figures coming in and out of frame as guests occupied the table over the past couple of days.
He started slowing it down until I recognized the unfocused silhouettes which sat at the table that night.
I could make out my black dress and Tara’s miniskirt as we sat down next to those pieces of shit.
“There,” I told him. “Stop.”
Without thinking, my hand reached over to grab the mouse from beneath Dax’s palm.
Sudden heat spiked up my arm, and I tore my hand away, embarrassed.
He gave me a stiff nod and then pushed the mouse toward me.
I dragged the cursor slowly across the screen.
Anxious rage sliced me apart and I watched the scene play out.
Bianca took our order. Chad paused suspiciously over the champagne bottle before topping off Tara's glass.
“That’s when I went to the bathroom,” I noted to myself before dragging the feed further along until I saw Tara follow me.
I paused as I watched her go back to the table briefly to grab her purse and walked to the other end of the restaurant on a separate monitor.
Ice gripped my chest as I looked frantically around at the other screens when she disappeared from view.
“I think…” Dax pointed toward another monitor that showed the view of the sidewalk from the corner of the building. There was Tara, and then—