Chapter 11
Nik
I’m just getting out of the shower when I hear the text come through.
Dante: He’s here again. You coming down?
Me: Be there in ten
I dry off and quickly throw on dark clothes, my large hoodie, and walk the few blocks to the club.
I don’t take my truck, so there’s no chance of my being seen.
Not like the other night. Fuck, what was I thinking?
I’m avoiding her because I don’t know how to explain any of this.
Of all fucking women to have to explain shit to, she’ll fucking write my life story and steal all my dreams right out from under me.
Beautiful or not, I can’t take the risk of her ending everything I’ve worked for and buried along the way.
I can’t take the chance that she’s scared and won’t write it, but I need to speak to Dante first. I need to see how he thinks I should go about handling all of it.
I’m let in and make my way down the hall and up to the office.
I nod to security as I walk through and over to Dante.
We shake hands, and he nods to the left.
“He’s in the back booth. Been here for about thirty minutes.
Hasn’t delivered, just hanging out drinking.
Not sure if he heard I’ve been asking about him or if he's as dumb as he looks, sitting here out in the open.”
“Knowing Rhett, the latter.”
Rhett is a numbers guy. It’s why he was a statistician on our team in college.
He kept records and could spout off percentages like no one's business. He was the guy you wanted to come to Vegas and count cards with. But he’s book smart with no street sense, and that’s the worst kind of person to be.
So chances are, he just happened to be here tonight.
Wrong place, wrong time.
“Get him up here.”
Dante nods and turns to the guards behind us.
They speak into their microphones, tapping their earpieces, and we watch as two men seem to appear out of nowhere.
The one guy grabs Rhett’s arm, and he protests before the other guy leans down and says something only meant for him to hear.
I grin to myself as I see Rhett’s face go ghost-white.
There’s the fear he needs.
He gets up from the booth and is flanked by the two security guards as they make their way to the back exit of the club and come up the back stairs.
Last I saw him was about a year ago. We happened to be at the same party, though I knew it wasn’t a coincidence.
I was there making sure the back-house ran correctly, and he was there to play in it.
Of course, he didn’t know the betting ring had anything to do with me; he thought I just happened to be on the floor for a drink with some other NFL hopefuls.
He looks the oldest he ever has and has the strong smell of cigarette smoke on his clothes.
He’s gained some weight, but he’s still got that twitchy energy under his skin like a man always halfway to running.
The security guards urge him to sit down, and Dante and I turn from the glass window and approach him.
The moment he recognizes me, I laugh. “What's the matter, Rhett?” I say as I sit down next to him. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Saint.”
I hold my hand up. “I’m not Saint here. I’m not anything here. Got me?” My tone is cold and threatening. Though I’m risking what he may say outside of these walls, I have to set the scene right from the start and hope I scare him enough to keep quiet.
Rhett chuckles, but there’s a flicker of unease in his eyes. “Still charming as ever, Nik.”
“Stop using my nam–”
Dante leans forward, cutting me off. “What are you doing here, Rhett?”
He leans back, crossing his ankle over his leg. “Can’t a guy just enjoy a drink?”
I shake my head, his cocky attitude making me angry. “Not when that guy is you. Who are you working for in Mistletoe Falls?”
Rhett glances between us as he fidgets in his seat. “Man, I work for a lot of people. You don’t think he’s the only one I got business with, do ya?” He throws his chin toward Dante.
“I know you've got business everywhere. Just wondering if any of it bleeds together.”
“Never.” He studies me. “I kept my mouth shut since that game–”
“No one said anything about that game.”
He swallows, the lump in his throat visible. “Just saying, I switch out phones with every new job. I don’t keep records and–”
“Sure you do, Rhett.” I tap my temple. “You keep it all up here.”
“Not that stuff. I’m serious. Once a job is done, I’m out. I don't want it coming back to me.” He swallows hard and looks like he wants to say more, but is afraid. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes, tapping the bottom, and I reach out and snatch it from him.
“No smoking in here.” I crinkle the pack and toss it behind me.
“You hear anyone talking about anything lately?” I want to press and see if he’ll break.
I’ve no idea what kind of information Noelle has dug up since the other night, or who knows what she’s been asking for.
But just the mere mention of sophomore year has me trying to close it off on all ends.
Her poking around could crash everything around me.
He stares out the glass window now realizing where he is, and that he’s been watched all night, and asks, “You own this place?”
“Dante owns this place.” I snap, and Rhett smirks.
“What’s that look for?” Dante asks.
Rhett shakes his head. “There’s a guy who calls himself Ghost. He’s a freelance fixer, so to speak. I was assigned a job. Stop some chick from running her mouth.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Ghost sent me, so here I am.”
I feel Dante watching me, but I won’t look at him. I stare at Rhett. “Running her mouth about what?”
He finally looks at me. “I don't know, man. They say she’s some reporter who’s asking too many questions.”
The way he says it makes my stomach turn for both myself and Noelle. Rhett had something to do with those two men cornering her, I just know it. It makes me want to reach out and slit his throat for what they could have done to her if I hadn’t shown up.
Dante motions to Rhett. “Why come to my bar?”
Rhett shrugs. “Just where I was told to look for her. Ghost wants her as his souvenir.” He smirks, and it makes me sick.
Dante shakes his head. “Don’t bring trouble here, Rhett. I warned you, I’d give you work, but if you fuck me, I’ll end you.”
Rhett holds his hands up defensively. “I’m just doing as I’m told, man.”
I narrow my eyes. “So where is she?”
Rhett shrugs and says, “Haven’t seen her around yet.
” His clipped tone, paired with a spark in his eye, tells me he’s lying.
“I heard a couple of guys cornered her the other day, but they didn't bring her in. Ghost said she hangs out here. Maybe she’s a club girl, or maybe she’s just looking for a good time.
” He shrugs. “She’s late-twenties, dark hair, and a body I wouldn't mind for a souvenir.” His face takes on a sinister look, but he continues speaking.
“Ghost sent me a couple of pictures of a woman. One’s a profile view, the others are taken from behind, but damn, I’d know that ass anywhere.
I’ll know her when I see her.” His leering tone makes me sick.
“And before you ask, no, I’ve never spoken to him and I’ve never seen him.
He doesn’t make himself available to anyone.
Only communicates via text on burners. He’s a ghost for a reason.
” Rhett keeps talking, oblivious to the storm brewing behind my eyes.
“Ghost knows everything, man. Names, faces, routines. You think you’re safe, you’re not.
That guy’s like the damn boogeyman. I don’t ask questions; I just follow orders. ”
Dante steps up beside me and whispers, “This is very similar to the way I fixed it sophomore year.” He stares right at me. “No name, no face-to-face. It was all through throwaways.”
“You think it’s the same guy?” I choke out the words because I just know there’s more to this.
He shakes his head. “Not sure, but it's very close.”
I whisper the words, “I know what this is about, D.” His eyes hold mine like he’s reading my mind.
I step toward Rhett slowly, the stale smell of cigarettes clinging to his clothes irritating my nose. “This guy doesn’t spark any familiarity?”
Rhett shrugs, looking around the room. “I mean, they’re all pretty similar in how they run shit. So maybe, maybe not.”
I turn my back on him again, looking down on the betting room. Then I let my eyes wander over everyone in the club, taking in the women dancing, the bar, the lights. I should be down there with them, enjoying my life as a famous NFL player, not up here, hiding secrets in the dark.
Then someone catches my eye. I zone in on a girl down on the edge of the dancefloor. I can only see her profile, long dark hair hanging down to the middle of her back. Slim figure but with curves, dressed in a black halter dress. But I know exactly who she is.
Noelle.
Her snarky attitude, even from up here, is evident and gives her away.
She’s talking animatedly with her hands, as she glances at the group of guys behind her.
Two other girls are with her, who look familiar, and they each grab her and pull her along to the middle of the dancefloor and start hip-bumping her and holding her hand, twirling her to make her smile and dance.
But as I look closer, I see two guys leaning up against the wall, tracking them, and realize it’s the same two I ran off the other night.
My body freezes, and I say, “She’s being watched.”
Dante comes beside me, following my gaze. “Who?”
I can’t even get her name out; my mind is racing with thoughts.
Rhett’s lying about Ghost assuming she’s a club girl.
He’s been tailing her since that night. “Look below. Remember those two girls from last week? The ones being bothered by those two assholes until security tossed them.” Dante nods. “That’s them, isn’t it?”
Dante's body stiffens as he follows my gaze. “It is them. Who’s the third?”
“That third is the one Ghost wants,” I whisper and turn to Rhett. “What do they want with her? Scare her into not talking? Fine. Done. There’s no need to go further.”
Rhett shrugs again with a mischievous grin. “Ghost was adamant about keeping her quiet.”
He’s not telling me something. Why is this Ghost so concerned about keeping her quiet? It has to be the same guy we tangled with in our sophomore year.
And if it is, maybe he knows what happened to my father.
Because after I did what they wanted, cheated myself and my best friends, my dad disappeared anyway. It was all for nothing, and now I have to live with that decision.
“This isn’t a coincidence.” I turn back to Rhett, taking quick strides and yanking him by his shirt to stand in front of me. “How does he know?” I roar out.
He puts his hands up defensively. “Nik! I don't know what you're talking about! I’m just following orders.”
I stare at him, his eyes wide and full of fear. I push him back onto the couch and charge for the door before Dante grabs my arm. “Nik! You can’t go out there. You’ll be recognized.”
I take a breath and close my eyes, counting to five before letting it out. How the fuck did I end up here?
“You're right. Okay,” I say, breathing deep.
“Do I need to bring someone here?”
I look him in the eye, and for a moment, everything blurs: the secrets, the lies, the two-sided mask I wear, and the woman who might know too much already, or might be in bigger danger than she realizes.
Because Noelle being here means the game’s already changed.