I had no car.I’d taken the bus here, like I did every night.I couldn’t go to the police because two of the names on my list were Williamson County deputies, and I had no way of knowing how many were dirty.I couldn’t go home because Iron knew someone had been in that building, and he would start pulling threads until he found me.
The sirens in the distance weren’t coming for me.They were coming for the fire, and eventually for the bodies inside.By the time the first responders arrived, I needed to be gone and the guy on the motorcycle made that seriously difficult.
I’d gotten myself into this situation because of my sister.Tessa Garrison.Twenty-one years old.My only family after Mom checked out.She worked at theEnclave Éclipsefor six weeks as a cocktail waitress and then disappeared.The police finally let me file a missing persons report a month after she vanished, only to close it two weeks later with a professional shrug.With no leads and no evidence of foul play, the officer working her case decided maybe she didn’t want to be found.
So I took matters into my own hands.I got a job as a bookkeeper at a tax preparation office three blocks from theÉclipse.I made a lifted key when the night manager left his key ring on the bar during his smoke break.The guy had two keys for the club on the same ring and, thankfully, hadn’t noticed one being gone in the bundle of keys he kept.I bought a hollowed-out pen camera from a guy who sold spy gear out of his van behind the flea market.I took photos of every ledger, every receipt, every name that passed through Carl Pruitt’s sweaty fingers I could manage to get my hands on.
Finally, I found what I searched so hard for.The one transaction that shouldn’t have been there.Five thousand dollars, cash, entered the same night Tessa disappeared.I never found Tessa’s phone and her body never turned up.But I found enough to know she’d likely been taken.And the people who took her were the same people who owned theEnclave Éclipse, who paid off deputies to look the other way, who thought they could make problems disappear with cash and threats.People like Iron.
The fire was fully involved now, visible flames from the window I’d originally jumped from licked up the wall in an orange glow.I needed to get out of here.Fast.
Taking a breath, I hurried down the alley, the driving certainty that danger hunted me nearly throwing me into a panic.As I stumbled out of the alley onto the sidewalk I collided with a large, solid body.Strong hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me, or I’d have fallen on my ass.
“Easy there.”I shied back, backing up several steps to stand against the building.I couldn’t see the guy clearly.His form resembled a blurry blob, with the occasional glimpse of a person-shaped blob.“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.Are you OK?Were you in the building?”
The guy’s question made me grip my gun all the harder.Iron knew someone was inside the room, or, at least, the building.If this guy was one of Iron’s men, I’d have no hope of fighting him off.I raised my gun, tightening my grip.I still didn’t know if I could actually pull the trigger.I mean, I could, but hesitating would be just as bad as not shooting.Either way, I’d be dead.
The figure took a step forward, then another, his movements careful and measured.I raised the gun, pointing at the center of what I hoped was his chest.My finger settled alongside the trigger.I didn’t trust myself not to shoot accidentally and hurt someone innocent.
“Don’t come any closer,” I called, my voice steady despite the fear crawling up my throat.My hand trembled wildly as I held the heavy firearm.My other hand burned, but I had to bring it up to hold the gun relatively steady.
The figure stopped.For a long moment, we faced each other in the alley.The fire cast jumping shadows across the pavement.The sirens wailed, almost on top of us now.
“You’re bleeding.”He spoke in a calm voice.“And the cops are thirty seconds out.You want to explain why you’re standing outside a burning building with a gun, or do you want a ride somewhere that isn’t here?”
I didn’t lower the gun.“Who are you?”
He took another step forward, close enough now that I could see his face in the firelight -- hard angles, watchful eyes, a beard trimmed close to his jaw.“Name’s Griffin,” he said.“I’m not with them.”He jerked his chin toward the burning building.“But I know who is.And I think maybe you and I should talk about that.”
At the mouth of the alley, red and blue lights flashed as the first police cruiser pulled up to the curb to clear a path for the fire trucks.I had three choices.I could run.I could stay, and answer questions I had no good answers for.Or I could go with a stranger I couldn’t even see clearly and hope he was telling the truth.
I made my decision.I lowered the gun, just slightly, and nodded.“If you try to hurt me, I’ll kill you.”
“Fair enough.”
Chapter Two
Griffin
I came toEnclave Éclipsetonight to clean house.We’d been casing the place for months on the orders of Seth and Antonio Miles.Kiss of Death did work for the Miles family as their enforcers.I honestly didn’t give a shit who or what.If Knuckles said go do something, I did it.The information I’d been given said the club was nothing more than a front for a trafficking ring.
So, when I saw the woman jump from a second story window to escape the burning building, my curiosity demanded I find out why she’d been there in the first place.Which meant, she was going back to Kiss of Death with me whether she wanted to or not.But I’d prefer not to scare the little thing to death until I knew her role in all this so the best approach would be to get her to voluntarily come with me.
“If you try to hurt me, I’ll kill you.”Despite her bravado, the girl trembled visibly and her voice wobbled.The gun in her grip shook violently.She held it like someone who’d only ever seen a gun in action in the movies.I doubt she’d ever evenhelda gun let alone used one.I had to hand it to her.She met my gaze head-on and didn’t look away.
The cops rolled heavy and fast in this part of the city, especially given the high-end nature of the neighborhood.Though the club looked plain and unimpressive on the outside, they didn’t advertise because the place was as exclusive as it got.Only the wealthiest people enteredEnclave Éclipseso, even though the blocks surrounding the club weren’t exactly in the middle of 12th South in Nashville, it was close enough that the cops responded quickly.Not only would being seen by the cops in the area make me the most convenient scapegoat in the history of scapegoats, but I especially didn’t want to be here with a half-conscious, blood-smeared woman.That story would definitely not paint me as the hero of the evening.
She gritted her teeth, trying to find a way to hold her ground.Blood trickled from her hairline, cutting a rust-brown path through the soot on her cheeks.She kept the gun leveled at my chest, smart considering I outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and stood between her and any chance at a clean path out.
“Ten seconds,” I said, and pointed at my bike with my chin.“You want to take your chances with the blue lights, or do you want to live to tell me your story?”
She hesitated and I could practically hear the argument going on inside her head.The risk of staying versus risk of climbing onto the back of a stranger’s motorcycle with a wound in her hand and no backup.For a second, I thought she’d try to bolt.Instead, she took in a couple deep breaths.Then she moved past me and didn’t look back to see if I followed her.
I’d parked my bike across the one-way street behind theÉclipse.She waited until I’d mounted before she climbed onto the back of my bike and wrapped her left arm around my waist without asking.She held her other, injured hand to her side in a weird, protective way.Probably hurt something when she jumped out the window.I felt the tension in her arm even through the heavy denim.
“Wasn’t expecting company, so I don’t have helmets.My suggestion would be to hang on tight.”
“I’m not giving up my gun.”
