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They emerge five minutes later, wearing each other’s clothes. George picks up the tray, while Yara sashays her way over to Alec’s group. Within moments, she has them all laughing, and she steps close to Alec, touching his arm as she smooths down his tie.
“Holy shit, she’s doing it,” I whisper to George, who nods. One of the Eldritch Club members snaps her fingers at George, and she hurries away, platter in hand. I cast one last look over at Yara, who’s touching Alec’s arm and smiling in all the right ways, and sneak back upstairs to see how the guys are getting on with Daphne.
I turn the key in the lock and poke my head in. Noah appears in the doorway, the front of his shirt splattered with blood. Daphne’s head is slumped against her shoulder, her body limp. “We got the location. He’s living in a vacation house they own in Nantucket, purchased under a fake name.”
“Good. I need you both downstairs.”
Noah peers down at his bloody shirt. “What’s going on?”
“Alec LeMarque is here, and we’re going to make him pay.”
Noah
We leave an unconscious Daphne tied to the cross for Nero to deal with, and follow Claws back down to the party. I’m barely off the elevator when I spy the bastard. Alec has peeled Yara away from his group, and he has her back up against a pillar, one elbow leaning close to her face, hemming her in. Yara tugs on his shirt collar, looking as though she’s exactly where she wants to be.
Damn, that woman has a natural gift for subterfuge.
Beside me, Claudia beams her cold smile. I think she sees a lot of herself in Yara. Her nails dig into my arm. “We should get in position.”
The two of us move toward the backstage door, sliding past George on the way. Claudia gives her wrist a squeeze, alerting her that shit is about to go down. We slip through the hidden door into the backstage area, pushing our way through racks of costumes, disassembled stripper poles, and piles of sky-high pumps. At the back of the room is the bathroom for Nero’s dancers – one row of stalls, another of sinks and lighted mirrors, with hair straighteners and makeup scattered across every surface.
I take the stall second from the end, while Claws squeezes herself behind some boxes underneath the sinks. I see the glint of her second knife as she slides it into her hand. Her other knife is tucked in my belt, still stained with Daphne’s blood.
We wait.
The silence builds. Blood pounds in my ears. All I can see is Alec’s twisted face as he held Claudia down on the hood of his car.
Voices, laughter. The bathroom door creaks as it swings open. I watch through the crack in the stall door as Yara pulls Alec inside. Her fingers tangle in his hair, and he clamps one beefy hand over her tit, the other frantically tugging at the hem of her dress. This guy thinks it’s his lucky day. The bathroom door swings shut behind them.
We’re alone.
“Come here, baby,” Alec purrs, cradling her body against his. “You know you want this.”
I remember that day in the desert when he threw Claws on the hood of the car. I thought she was Mackenzie then, but even though I hated her for her part in my brother’s death, seeing what he intended to do made me realize I could draw a line across my rage.
This guy tried to make me into a rapist.
He tried to take from Claudia what wasn’t his, and George… sweet, kind George…
For years I’ve been friendly with Alec, playing on the same teams, going to the same parties, listening to his inane stories about being on set for all his bit parts and TV commercials. Alec the actor. Alec the friendly, popular guy everyone loved. And all the while George was alone, carrying the memory of how he hurt her. And all those other women who came forward after we trashed his car. And if I’d known… if I’d fucking known…
Tonight’s retribution was a long time coming.
Yara pulls Alec into the stall next to mine. Their bodies slam against the wall. She lets out a loud, fake moan.
As silently as possible, I climb up on the toilet bowl, leaning well back so Alec can’t see me as I peer over the side. He has Yara pinned in a corner, his hands struggling under the tight fabric of her dress. Yara tilts her head up, and her dark eyes meet mine. She smiles.
Showtime.
Claudia slinks like a cat from her hiding spot. She kicks the stall door open, slamming it into Alec’s back. Alec whirls around, his face a picture of surprise. “What the fuck are you—”
His words cut off into a scream as Yara twists his wrist and slams his hand into the tiles, pinning him in place with her body. Alec’s too dumbfounded to react. Claudia seizes her chance – she reaches up and snaps three of his fingers.
Pop pop pop.
The pain takes a moment to register. When it does, Alec thrashes wildly. “Bitch, get off me or I’ll call security.”
“Now, now, Alec,” Claudia smiles. “Where’s the fun in that?”
