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“No.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my frustration with Mikey grow.
“You should listen to your sister, kid,” the leader said. “She’s trying to keep you safe.”
I turned around and looked at Mikey. “Please,” I begged him. “I need to take care of this.”
Mikey looked like he wanted to argue with me, but Nikki placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Come on, squirt,” she said. Her voice was unnaturally high. “We can play some video games. Believe it or not, I’ve been practicing.”
Mikey said nothing, but I breathed out a sigh of relief as I watched him follow Nikki as she made her way towards his room. I mouthed a thank you to her, and she gave me a quick nod, but I knew that she was going to grill the shit out of me the second we were alone.
“What do you want?” I sneered, turning my attention back to the two men standing in front of me. I was grateful that they’d allowed me to get Mikey out of the room. If they were going to harm me, I didn’t want my little brother to see it.
“We just wanted to have a conversation,” he said.
“About?”
One of the men sat down on a worn chair. His suit looked just as bad as the fabric, but that didn’t keep him from looking like he smelled something sour.
“Adrian Ivanov,” he said.
I raised a brow. “Who?” I asked, pretending that I had absolutely no idea who they were talking about.
“Don’t play stupid,” the leader said. He moved his coat once more, so that his gun was visible. “We know you know who he is.”
I shrugged. “He works at the club where I dance, but we’ve never even had a conversation before.”
“But you’ve had conversations with Marco Blanchi.”
I stiffened slightly at Marco’s name, and I knew that the two in front of me noticed. I wouldn’t be able to pretend that I didn’t know Marco. “Marco is a client at the club.” It wasn’t a complete lie, and it was one that Tommy would validate.
“How close are you two?”
I shrugged again. I was trying to appear as unaffected as possible, but it was a struggle. Even hearing Marco’s name affected me in ways that I didn’t want to admit. “He’s a client,” I told them. “He watches me dance.”
Blondie’s lips thinned. “Any private dances?” There was a leering tone to his voice, and I knew exactly what he was implying. He was suggesting that we had some sort of sexual relationship, which was so far from the truth, it was almost comical.
But, if they did ask Tommy, he would tell them all about how Marco booked me for a private dance. Then, they would know that I lied, and I suspected that men like this weren’t going to be too happy about that. “He enjoys a personal show every now and then.”
I knew what they wanted to know, and I decided that I was going to give them exactly what they wanted.
“In fact,” I said. I drew a hand across my neck, bringing their eyes to my bruises. “He enjoys my dancing so much that sometimes likes to take things outside the club.”
The leader snorted. “I’ve heard he’s a shit head,” he muttered.
I bit my tongue to keep from agreeing with him. I wanted this guy to think that I was screwing Marco, which wouldn’t work if I couldn’t keep a scowl off my face whenever someone spoke his name.
The man in the chair didn’t seem to be buying it though. He got up from his seat and walked towards me. “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?” he asked. He reached out to caress a piece of my hair, and I smacked his hands away.
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped.
“Marco Blanchi wouldn’t let his woman stay in a place like this,” he muttered. “She’s full of shit.”
I trembled slightly at his words because I was full of shit. I’d seen Adrian get shot, and I knew that Marco did it.
“Maybe we should bring your pretty friend down here, and see if she helps to jog your memory.”
