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Cypress was a different beast at night. The skies were dark, but the streets were bright with neon lights, the nightlife in this city one that rivaled Vegas. Driving through the busy streets, seeing how packed the sidewalks were with people going on with their lives, totally ignorant that the girl I loved might be dead, reminded me of that night I’d gone everywhere with Giselle.
The night we’d visited all the happening places here. The clubs, both of the dancing variety and the sexual kind. That guided tour of the Playground felt like years ago.
Goddamn it. What I wouldn’t give to go back in time, to be there with her. If I knew everything I knew now, I would’ve made different choices. I would’ve told her a long time ago how much I cared about her, and I’d take out both Miguel and Rocco for her.
One gave her away, and the other greedily took her.
It shouldn’t surprise me now that Miguel and Rocco were involved; they had to be. All this time, it’s like they wanted Giselle to suffer. I had no idea why. Sure, Miguel had a pregnant fiancé, but three years ago, Giselle was it. His only daughter. How could he hand her off like she was nothing?
I had to force myself to stop thinking about it; it was only making me furious. I had to focus.
The club that was my destination came into view after a while, and I managed to find a parking spot in the tiny lot in front of it. I got out and headed straight for the glass doors, where a big bouncer stood, looking intimidating as he checked the I.D.s of everyone who wanted in.
When he saw me, he held up a hand and said, “No one goes in without an I.D. check.” His voice sounded impossibly low, almost mechanical. I could easily see how he frightened most people.
“Are the twins here? I need to speak with them. It’s important.” This club was the Jameson twins’ favorite club in Cypress; at least one of them frequented it damn near nightly. With any luck, at least one of them would be here.
Right now, those blasted twins were my only hope.
The bouncer pulled out his phone and made a call. He muttered something under his breath, something I couldn’t hear thanks to the music emanating from inside the club. He must’ve been told to let me pass, because before he ended the call, he stepped aside and let me in, no I.D. required.
I walked inside the club, greeted with flashing lights and pounding music on the speakers. I passed the bar and headed straight for the metal stairs that went up to a balcony overlooking the dance floor.
Another bouncer stood at the base of the metal stairs, and the moment he saw me approach, he stepped aside and threw his thumb over his shoulder, wordlessly telling me to go on up.
I headed up the stairs, and once I emerged onto the platform, I saw one of the twins sitting at the farthest booth, talking to Nixon Hawke. From what I knew about the twins, I assumed I was looking at Jett Jameson.
No one else was on the balcony, all the other booths empty. Jett must’ve told the bouncer it was off-limits for everyone else, playing the king of the club.
He had a glass of something before him, and it looked as though Nixon had a bottle of beer. Both of their gazes turned toward me as I approached, though Nixon got up and wandered off, leaving me alone with the lone Jameson twin.
“Jett.” I had to speak loudly to be heard over the music. “Or is it Dex?”
“First one,” he spoke with a smirk. “Excuse Nix, he’s not one for… people in general.”
I hated small talk, but other people liked it. Plus, it might be considered rude to jump into asking for a favor. “I’m surprised you two are here without Shay.”
Jett leaned back on the booth, lifting both his arms onto the black leather cushion. “She’s with Slade tonight. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but we’re not with her all the time. The last thing Jett Jameson would ever be is clingy—”
“I’m sure,” I said dryly.
“So, what brings you here, Zander?” Jett made a big show of glancing behind me, noting the emptiness all around. “All by your lonesome, too?”
“Have you heard?”
His fingers tapped the cushion of the booth. “That depends on what you’re asking. Look, I’ll save us both some trouble: if this is about Giselle, no, I don’t know where she is. Miguel and Rocco just had a meeting with the Black Hand last night, and—”
I leaned forward. “There was a meeting?”
Jett chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it, if you’d stop interrupting me, bro. Anyways, the Black Hand meeting was… interesting, from what Shay tells me. Interesting and stressful, hence why my boy and I are here. Apparently, Giselle’s sudden disappearance wasn’t the only thing Miguel and Rocco wanted to talk about. Miguel stumbled upon some information that, if true, would mean there’s another spot on the Hand—and it’d also mean my brother Dex isn’t the true Jameson heir.” Jett’s eyes narrowed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
“I’m not a part of Miguel’s plan,” I told him. “Not anymore. I don’t care who’s whoever’s father. The only thing I care about is finding Giselle and making sure she’s safe.”
He was quiet for a moment, though he watched me with interest, perhaps to see if I was lying or putting on a show for him. We truly hadn’t spoken much in the past, so I didn’t know whether or not he’d believe me.
I needed him to, though.
“Yeah, well,” Jett paused as he reached for his drink, gulping the rest of it down, “that part of the story doesn’t matter anymore. Now I understand why I’m more like Nix than Dex; one might be my twin, but they’re both my brothers.” He set the glass down hard. “The Palmers want a paternity test. Shay knew. Nix knew. Everyone knew.”
