Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Fury
I’d never understood it when people said they wanted to spend all day in bed with someone. Even with my former girlfriends, the only time I lingered in bed after sex was during those rare moments when we fell asleep together. I wasn’t an asshole who’d finish and kick my partner out, but this wasn’t aftercare or cuddling or whatever people called it.
This was something else entirely.
“Are you sure I’m not keeping you from work?” Sienna asked as she rolled onto her side, facing me. Her cheeks were still flushed from our third round of lovemaking, and although I’d come three times in two hours, my dick stirred back to life.
“Believe me,” I tucked some escaped hair behind her ear, “there’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you.”
And it wasn’t just a line to ease her guilt. It was a Thursday afternoon, and I was lounging in bed, feeling no urgency to do anything else. Not only was there no restless need, but I didn’t want to be doing anything else.
She sighed, catching my hand and kissing my palm. “Unfortunately, I have to go to work soon. My boss is a great guy, but I can’t very well tell him I’m calling off because his friend has fucked me upside down and sideways.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I remember the sideways, but I must’ve missed something because I don’t recall anything upside down.”
She grinned at me, humor dancing in her eyes. “Maybe that’s something we can try out next time.”
Next time.
I liked the sound of that.
I liked it so much that I was tempted to persuade her to skip work. I wouldn’t do it though. That’d be too much like trying to control her.
When my phone rang, I groaned and rolled over, stretching out to grab my pants from the floor. I laughed when I saw Gavin’s name on the screen and turned my phone toward her so she could see it. Sienna’s eyes went wide, and a new color flooded her face.
Her phone rang just as I answered mine. “Hey, Gavin. What’s up?”
“Someone broke into the club. Can you come by? If you’re too busy, that’s fine, but?—”
I cut him off before he could offer me an excuse. “I’m on my way.”
I turned back to Sienna just as she hung up her phone. Seeing her pale face and shaken expression, I felt pretty confident I could guess that she’d just heard the same news I had. She looked like I had felt when my office had been vandalized.
That thought gave me pause. Both my place of business and Gavin’s had been messed with, and Sienna had been ‘mugged,’ all within a short period of time.
“That was Laila,” Sienna said as she threw back the covers. “I’m guessing Gavin told you that the club was broken into.”
“Yep.” I followed her lead, quickly redressing. “Want to ride together or separately?”
She gave me a surprised look. “Do you really think I have a car?”
I shrugged. “Didn’t want to assume.” I adjusted my shirt. “Guess that turns my question into ‘Would you like a ride instead of taking the subway or a bus or however you normally get to work?’”
“You’re a brave man,” Sienna said, braiding her hair with that quick efficiency that I’d seen in some of my cousins. “Few non-natives keep driving in New York traffic after the first couple of weeks here.”
“It probably won’t come as a shock to you that I prefer being in control as much as possible.” I grinned, hoping to recapture some of that lightness we’d shared before our phones rang.
The soft curve of her lips wasn’t a full-blown smile, but the look in her eyes suggested she understood my attempt to lighten the mood and appreciated it.
“Do you really think you can get us there quicker than taking the subway?” she asked. “I want to get there as fast as we can.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I must’ve done pretty well because as we pulled up to Club Privé, Sienna told me I’d made it five minutes faster than her usual commute. But I didn’t feel like celebrating when I saw the two police cars parked nearby.
“Shit. If they sent two cars, it’s got to be bad inside,” Sienna said.
“No ambulances mean no one was hurt,” I pointed out. “That’s good, at least.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, a distracted expression on her face.
A part of me wanted to delve into what was going on in her head, but we both needed to get inside more than I needed to satisfy my curiosity. I parked my car, and Sienna and I headed for the employee entrance around the back. As we walked inside, she reached over to take my hand, her fingers cold as they laced between mine.
I gave her hand what I hoped was a comforting squeeze, and as we stepped into the main club area, I was immediately glad I was here for her.
I didn’t know if it looked worse than my office because there’d been different stuff to break and throw around or if whoever did this had just been angrier than the person who trashed my place.
Again, that little thought tugged at the back of my mind, wondering if maybe the two were connected or if this was just a coincidence.
Then the smell of alcohol hit me, and I nearly gagged. Next to me, Sienna stared at the destruction, the hand covering her nose and mouth the only sign that the eye-watering stench affected her at all.
It looked like every bottle from behind the bar had been hurled against a wall or the floor, leaving glass everywhere. Tables and chairs were flipped and broken, some with enough force that the pieces were scattered across the room. The lighting on the stage had been torn down, all the glass parts shattered, wires cut, metal bent out of shape. Like in my office, food was everywhere, but it also seemed like whoever had done this had dragged in trash from outside and dumped it.
“Sienna!” Laila hurried over from where she’d been talking to a tall, lanky cop. The manager’s eyes were red-rimmed, but they flashed with anger more than anything else. “Thanks for coming in so quickly. The cops wanted to talk to all the employees right away, so Gavin and I decided to start with management and then work down through each department.”
“Of course,” Sienna said, accepting a hug from Laila before stepping back next to me. She didn’t, however, take my hand again. “Is it just this room, or did anywhere else get hit?”
“Just this room,” Laila said. “All the offices and private rooms were locked up pretty tight.”
“Wasn’t the club itself locked?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Laila nodded. “And the alarm was set, but it didn’t go off.”
“The offices and private rooms have separate alarm systems,” Sienna said, frowning. “But not as many people have access to those codes.”
“Do they think it’s an inside job?” I asked.
Laila shrugged. “If they do, they’re not saying. It’s mostly been them talking to Gavin, Carrie, and me while a couple of their CSI guys do their thing.”
It wasn’t until she gestured toward a pair of men on the stage that I realized the four uniformed officers weren’t the only members of the NYPD here. I counted at least two detectives and a couple of crime techs.
My office getting trashed hadn’t merited this kind of manpower, which made me wonder just how many strings Gavin and Carrie could pull in this concrete jungle.
“Was anyone here when it happened?” I asked, forcing myself to bring my thoughts back under control. Everyone was tense enough. They didn’t need my irritation adding to an already volatile situation.
“We always have at least one member of security on the premises at all times,” Laila said. “Today, that was Lamar Fulton.”
She pointed to a dark-skinned man who looked to be in his early twenties. He was talking to a stocky man in a bad suit but didn’t look injured.
“He’s okay?” Sienna asked.
“Apparently, around eight this morning, he did his rounds and then used the men’s restroom. While he was in there, someone barricaded the door, trapping him inside. He was stuck until Gavin got here about an hour ago.” Laila’s hands shook, and she shoved them into her pockets. “If Lamar hadn’t been in the bathroom…”
“Maybe that’s what they were waiting for,” I suggested. “If he follows the same routine, someone could’ve known that and waited for when he usually goes to the bathroom before breaking in.”
“Which would mean it wasn’t just some random thing,” Sienna said.
“I honestly don’t know which would be worse,” Laila said. “Random means it’s more likely to go unsolved, but someone connected to the club means that someone we know did this.”
I watched as Gavin strode over to us, his jaw clenched with barely contained fury. “Laila,” he said, his voice tight, “can you handle the next round of calls? Make sure to let everyone know we’re closed tonight, but they’ll receive full pay.”
As Laila nodded and moved away, I caught wind of a nearby conversation that made my blood boil. One of the uniformed cops had the audacity to mutter to his partner, “That’s a helluva lot easier for these whores than having dudes shoving dollar bills down their g-strings.”
Gavin’s head whipped around so fast I thought he might get whiplash. “What the fuck did you just say?” he snarled, advancing on the officer with predatory grace.
The cop stumbled back, his face flushing. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” Gavin spat, his eyes flashing dangerously. “I think you’ve taken quite enough statements for one day, jackass.”
“But I was just?—”
“Are you seriously gonna make me spell this shit out for you?” Gavin’s voice had gone arctic cold. “Get your bigoted ass out of my club and don’t you ever fucking dare show your face here again.”
“But... but this is my job,” the officer sputtered pathetically.
Gavin leaned in close, his voice dripping with menace. “If you don’t drag your sorry ass out of here in the next thirty goddamn seconds, I’ll make damn sure the only job you can land in this city is scrubbing toilets at some roach-infested hourly motel. Now move it!”
Something about Gavin must’ve convinced the cop he was serious because the officer scurried away with his tail between his legs, mumbling something under his breath that I was sure wasn’t complimentary.
“Sienna,” Gavin turned back to us, his tone returning to his usual, albeit a little more stressed, professional sound. “The detectives need to know where you were today and if you have any idea who could’ve done this. When you’re finished with that, could you call your dancers? The ones who aren’t servers too? We’ll need them to come in and do the same.”
“Of course,” she said. “How’s Carrie?”
Gavin looked over to where his wife was talking to one of the detectives. Neither one of the pair looked happy. “Pissed as hell and making sure the boys in charge know that she has deep connections in the DA’s office, and if they treat any of our people with disrespect, they’ll be riding the desk in evidence lockup for the rest of their careers.”
Carrie called for him then, and he walked away. I looked down at Sienna. “You go make your calls, and I’ll call Carson. Gavin and Carrie should know that we have their back.”
Sienna’s expression was grim but determined. The shock had worn off, and now she was a woman preparing for a fight. “They might own the club, but it’s special to a lot of us.”
“Let’s get this done, then,” I said before dropping a kiss on her cheek and moving off to talk to the first officer I could find.
After I finished giving my statement—which was basically just me saying that the only person I knew of who was pissed at Gavin was Arthur Dalton, and yes I had an alibi, and no I didn’t have a motive.
I stepped away from the chaos to call Carson. As soon as I explained what had happened, he didn’t hesitate.
“Vix and I will be there as soon as we can,” he said. “We’ll help however we’re needed.”
I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
By the time Carson and Vix arrived, the police were packing up their gear and heading out. Most of the club’s employees had stuck around, determined to get the place back in shape.
“Holy shit,” Carson muttered as he took in the destruction. “This is way worse than what happened at your office.”
Vix nodded, her eyes wide. “It looks like a tornado hit in here.”
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad. But everyone’s pitching in to clean up.”
Carson rolled up his sleeves. “Well, let’s get to it then. Where do you need us?”
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Gavin called from the stage. When everyone turned to him and quieted down, he continued, “First, thank you all for coming in, some of you on your day off, and some of you who don’t even work here. Obviously, we’re going to be closed today, but I’m hoping we’ll be able to reopen tomorrow. That wouldn’t even be a possibility if not for you guys. Carrie and I really appreciate all of you.”
After thanking everyone, he gave us all instructions, assigning groups to various parts of the club, and then stepped down from the stage to talk to Laila.
“So you guys don’t know who did this?” Carson asked as he and Vix each pulled on a pair of leather gloves.
Sienna and I exchanged looks that said we’d been thinking along the same lines, even if we hadn’t talked about it yet.
Carson caught the exchange. “Or do you know?”
I shrugged. “I have an idea, but no proof.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Carson said dryly. “Spill.”
“There’s a guy who’s pissed at Gavin.”
Sienna nudged my arm and raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, yeah, he’s pissed at me too. And my office kind of got the same treatment.”
“I’m assuming you told the cops this,” Carson said.
“I did,” I said. “Whether or not they believe it is a whole other story.”
“Are you talking about Arthur?” Gavin asked as he came up on the other side of Sienna.
“I figured you’d already made the connection,” I said, shoving two handfuls of alcohol-soaked paper towels into the bag Sienna held.
“Yeah, when our two places of business get trashed not long after he storms out of here, angry with both of us, it wasn’t too much of a leap to put him at the top of the suspect list.” Gavin nodded at Vix and Carson. “Thanks for coming to help.”
“When family asks for help, you give it,” Carson said simply.
I felt a familiar twist in my heart. Logically, I knew the McCrae part of the family who weren’t biologically related to me and my siblings didn’t distinguish between any of us regardless of what we called each other, but when they said things like that, it reminded me just how lucky I was.
“I don’t think it’s going to be a matter of whether or not the cops believe you,” Sienna said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Gavin asked.
“I think it’s going to be more about whether Arthur Dalton has connections high enough to get the cops to focus on other leads.”
Even as she said it, I knew she was right. It was going to come down to who had more pull: Gavin and me or Arthur and his business partners.