Chapter 12
Noelle
All I wanted was a quiet night out with my sister, Olivia, and my best friend, Sloane.
I wanted to get dressed up, have some drinks, and eat some appetizers.
I wanted to forget about the two guys who cornered me, the picture sent to my email, and talk a whole load of shit about the asshole NFL player everyone thinks is a saint.
Newsflash, he’s not.
Club Trick is the place to be if you're looking to spot celebrities. Sloane was right. It’s a ridiculously expensive club, but with the best drinks and best DJ around.
My newspaper badge doesn’t count, and it would probably get me banned from a place like this, so for tonight, we’re just three single girls.
But I was right about the men here. Since we’ve been here, we can’t shake the annoying assholes groping, circling, and talking to us like we’re some sort of bimbo squad.
The last three guys really got annoying, and the front-runner just wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He only seemed more turned on when I got in his face and threatened to pummel him with my Louboutin heel.
Still, my sister and my bestie pull me to the dancefloor and try to make me forget about the last two weeks.
“I don't want to dance, I want you to commiserate with me!” I yell over the music, hoping they can hear me.
“We’ll get to that, just dance it off for now!”
The music shifts to an early 2000s flow, and we dance to a DMX and Limp Bizkit remix, which is surprisingly good. We’re having a great time until two security guards approach us on the dancefloor.
“You’re needed in the VIP room.”
I rear back, with my hand up. “I’m good, thanks.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not a request.”
“I don’t know you, and I’m not going anywhere without them.” I stand my ground, even though I’m certainly on edge right now. I have no idea what this is about.
The security guy leans in close and says, “A saint called for you.”
I freeze. He’s here? My eyes scan the place, and Olivia grabs my hand. “What's going on?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.” I squeeze her hand. “Work stuff. I’ll just be a minute. Dance here or go back to the booth. I’ll meet you there when I'm done.”
“Noelle, I don't like it.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry.”
I leave Olivia and Sloane on the dancefloor and follow the bouncer up the back stairs and into a room.
Those two guys from the alley flash through my mind, but I push it away.
The picture that was sent to me the other night flashes through my mind, but I ignore that, too.
It’s funny how far someone will go for a story, but when you’re in it, you’re not thinking of the danger. Plus, security said Nik is here.
Or maybe Nik’s in on it.
I quickly share my location with my sister and Sloane. If this goes south, at least they’ll know where to find my body.
I walk through the door, and the music is cut off to a dull thud with a simple click.
I look around at the quiet glass-walled room overlooking the club.
It’s got a small bar, two stools, and there’s a couch and end tables.
I scan the setting, seeing the dancefloor below me, and when I look right, I see Nik standing with a guy in a suit.
Another glance past them, and I see a man sitting on the couch.
Behind him? Two huge security guards. The guy on the sofa looks like he doesn’t belong; he’s definitely not dressed the same as them.
“What are you doing here, Moreno?” Nik asks, his voice low and even.
I cross my arms. This is the first time I’ve seen him since he dropped me back at the restaurant.
I won’t remind him how I saw him waiting around the corner to make sure I got in that Uber.
And with only one word answers through text message, I could give two shits about his questions right now. “Good to see you, too.”
“I’m serious.”
“Serious about what, exactly? Besides your lack of communication?”
The guy next to him, who’s been watching me intently, whistles low before trying to hide a twitch of a smile. Nik gives him a sideways look and walks closer to me. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“That's rich, coming from the barely legal rookie who thinks he can dodge–”
He grabs my arm and pulls me in even closer to him. I furrow my brows and look at his hand, wrapped around my arm, then back to his eyes, which are wide with an unreadable expression. Is he mad? Is he worried? I have no idea what this is about right now.
“No,” he speaks low, aiming for only me to hear, but the room is quiet despite the bass surrounding us, and everyone in it is straining to hear us, “It’s a dangerous place to be if you don’t know the right people.”
I shake his hold from my arm. “I don't know what you're trying to do, but if you wanna scare me away, don’t bother. I can take a hint–”
He grabs both my wrists and steadies me as he breathes right in my face. “Wake up, Moreno, not everyone wants to be in your story.”
His tone sets me on edge, and I glance around again.
The security guards stand in front of the exit.
The guy in the suit is a few feet away, eyes trained on Nik.
And the dirty guy is still on the couch, but taking in the scene like he’s writing a book.
And when Nik sees my stare over his shoulder, he turns, realizing the dirty guy is watching us both.
Nik turns back to me, desperation in his voice. “Have you seen him before?” he asks.
My brows furrow. “Who?”
The second I ask who he’s talking about, I know the answer.
He doesn’t say anything, but another glance over his shoulder means it’s the guy on the couch, sitting there, watching and listening.
Not with recognition or anger, but with a bit of interest and curiosity.
Like he’s trying to piece together who I am to Nik, what role I play in his life.
And suddenly I’ve got a feeling he’s part of the reason why I was cornered on the street the other night.
Nik’s jaw clenches like he’s grinding his teeth to dust. “Goddammit,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face, looking ten years older in an instant.
“What?” I ask, my voice sharper now.
He doesn’t look at me. Just takes a step back, like he’s suddenly trying to put distance between us. “You’re in trouble,” he says as he turns toward the dirty guy. “Show me the picture he sent you. Tóra.”
Nik’s voice rises on that last word, and I jump.
I watch as the dirty guy hands his phone over, holding Nik's stare the entire time.
His cocky attitude is a dare to Nik. Nik locks eyes with the guy beside him.
No words are spoken, but something passes between them, and then the guy nods to the pair of security guards by the door.
One of them moves, heading straight for the dirty man on the couch, placing his hand on his shoulder tightly as Nik scrolls through the phone.
Nik studies it, his face going pale, and cursing under his breath.
“You’re still such a liar.” He huffs a humorless laugh.
“Just following orders, right? Isn’t that what you said?
” And with a flip of a switch, Nik steps forward, deadly calm now, dropping the phone in the guy's lap. His voice cuts through the room, razor-sharp. “Here’s an order for you. You didn’t see her here tonight.
You didn’t see me tonight, and you sure as fuck haven’t heard from me since college. Got it?”
The man stares at Nik before turning his gaze on me, like he’s memorizing every detail. I look away, not wanting to see him anymore.
“Not sure I can do that, Saint.”
Nik’s body goes rigid. “You think you’ve got it closed up tight now, right? She’s here. You and your two guys, because yeah, I saw them downstairs, deliver her and move on to your next job? This is more than dropping off payments. Do you know what Ghost really wants?”
Dirty guy shrugs, but his shoulders are squared and his chest is puffed. “I don't care what he wants. Like I said, Nik. I’m just following orders.”
Nik lunges for him but is pulled back. “No, let me go! I know this little act he put on when he entered this room was just that—an act.”
“Nik, you gotta calm down. Let us handle it.” The guy in the suit, who is definitely hiding something, most likely a gun beneath that pristine suit of his, leans in, grabbing Nik’s arm, trying to calm him.
Dirty guy continues taunting, “She’s real pretty, Saint.”
“Don’t look at her,” Nik barks out, and the security guard tightens his hold on the guy's shoulder.
“What do you care?” I ask, confused about how he’s acting.
“I don’t,” Nik snaps out.
Dirty guy continues, “Sure about that, Saint? You’re getting pretty riled up for not caring.”
“Get him the fuck outta here!” Nik roars, and I shrink away.
“Nik, what the hell are you involved in?” My voice shakes more than I want it to.
Gone is the saint he displays for the world, and in its place?
This sinner. I have no idea who he is. He’s coming undone, this guy is pushing him over the edge.
When he finally looks at me, it’s not the Nik I thought I knew.
He’s not the one who flashes that million-dollar smile to the world, not the one who enjoys giving me a hard time. This version of him? He’s a stranger.
“Something I thought I had under control,” he says quietly, almost defeated, as he grabs my hand.
Dirty guy speaks up. “You know it’s better if I find her than someone else.”
“She’s not a souvenir,” Nik bites out with his hand still wrapped around mine. “She’s not writing the story, so tell your boss there’s no need to continue this.”
Dirty guy chuckles. “Oh, Nik, you know that’s not how this works.”
Suit guy speaks to the dirty guy, “You better listen to him. Don’t come around here again unless it’s to say things are taken care of.”
Dirty guy stands, with an air about him now, like he's the one in charge, and it turns my stomach. “Guess I’ll be seeing more of you, Saint.”
“Get him outta here,” the suit guy says, and in seconds, the security guards are on him, dragging him toward the exit like this is just another night, another cleanup.
But it’s not just another night, and this is far from normal.
The reporter in me wants to stay, wants to keep going deeper into whatever world this is, but the girl?
Well, she needs some common sense to smack her in the face because she wants to stay and dig deeper, too, but to find out about the man.