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Markus’s muddy eyes stared at me, watching me grab a bottle of bleach and dump it on the bartop and his hand. His wound turned as ghostly white as his face. His screams nearly cracked the mirror closest to the bar area.
Digging my finger in my ear to readjust my eardrums back to normal, I walked around the bar to stand next to him. He finally quieted and passed out on the marbled stone.
Looking over his deathly still form, I shuddered as pure menace filled my being. I pulled the dagger from his hand. His form jolted like a live wire, the pain acting as a shot of adrenaline. To my delight, it didn’t bleed.
“Listen here, partner,” I said, my voice lilting and falling like a lullaby. “That couch. That stain. This club. Are all mine.”
Markus just nodded and then looked at the bleach bubbling up on his open wound and the skin on his hand. His phone rang, and he looked at me. I nodded.
Answering, he said, “Yeah, bring her in.”
Confused, I watched the door as it opened, and two guys from Markus’s little posse walked in. A sleeping form was being dragged into the center of them. Looking at Markus again, my eyes said it all. Who the fuck was this woman? Markus cradled his injury, wincing as he tried to smile.
“I brought you a gift, Lucius.”
I didn’t give a shit about women, much less a gift-wrapped one. Sleeping females didn’t do a fucking thing for my dick. Honestly, the only person who had even gotten the fucking thing to stir was my Little Shadow.
I looked at the female. A white gag was in her mouth. She had some cuts on her face and bruises on her wrists, but otherwise, she was unmarked. A small cascade of brown curls framed her face. Her lips were smeared with a red rouge. She was beautiful, but there were a million beautiful women.
“Uh, thanks?” I flicked the heels of the platform black heels she had on with boredom.
“You don’t understand,” Markus said, his voice steadier now. His excitement showed at knowing something that I didn’t.
“This is an escort and not just any escort. She’s the one who flipped on me. I have clientele in law enforcement, and I found out this bitch has a sister in the department. One they set up with one of my boys.”
The pieces started to fall into place. Pedro was at the Art Galla. I noticed him after I finished my fun. I didn’t say anything to him, not really giving a fuck what he did with his spare time.
When I found him kidnapping my Little Shadow, that was another thing entirely. I decided not to mention that ‘his boy’ was rat chow and let him continue.
“She knows about the rings. Hell, she may even know about you andMoya Kotova. I caught her sniffing around, and she was asking me shit when I was with her. I gave her a bogus address, and now we’re just waiting to catch the bitch’s cop sister too.”
I looked at the light brown-haired girl again. I didn’t kill women often. I left a prostitute to fuck with my Little Shadow, but she was a double for my operation, and I figured I’d get a two-birds kind of deal out of it. Listening to the stream of curses and learning that this princess had become the maid had been fun, but I was done now.
“So?” Markus said, waiting for a pat on the ass.
“So.” I simply shrugged. “Don’t get blood on my floor.”
Ignoring him, I pulled up my CCTV footage on my phone, snatched the bottle of Macallan from the cracked table, and walked back to my room.
Icalled for the fifteenth time, getting nothing but the cheery tone of my sister’s voicemail.
“Cassie, it’s me. Again. Look, please don’t pull a Houdini, okay? I’m sorry I bailed on the druggie. I got distracted…but anyway, I’m super worried about you. So much shit is happening, and I just need to know you’re okay. All right. Well, I’m keeping my phone on me, so please text me. I love you, Cassandra Fox. So much. I’d be lost without you.”
I walked around. Mitzi and Shadow tried curling up at my feet, but I couldn’t stop pacing. My old-fashioned clock was as loud as ever in my ears. Worse yet, I was trying to figure out how in the hell to have this conversation with Quinn without giving away too much of my dumb-assery.
I couldn’t tell him I bailed on my date with a known cartel drug mule or that my lovely sister, who was now fucking missing, set it up.
I couldn’t tell him I saved a civilian from the club I had no right to be in or that I had been stalking the owner of said club.
No, I was in what Cassie called a ‘fuckity-fuck-pie.’ I chewed on my lip. Feeling the blood coat my tongue.
Picking up my phone to dial Quinn’s number, I stopped. The door buzzer for my apartment was going off. Begrudgingly, I looked out the window, seeing his pretty scruff of blond hair. Taking a deep breath and forcing my body to get its shit together, I buzzed him up.
Opening the door to off-duty Micah Quinn was a pleasant surprise. The ripped blue jeans and silky dark blue shirt that matched his eyes really threw me off even more.
“Hey, Ella. You look nice today.”
“Uh, thanks. You too, Quinn.” I blushed, staring at my converse. The truth was that I just put on a shit ton of makeup to hide my bruises. I did a number on my body from falling into the freaking dumpster. My face and stomach were all scratched up from my lovely faceplant. Thank god for the high-end foundation my sister stashed in my bathroom.
