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I laugh at that. “I highly doubt it.”
“Knowing Patrick, I doubt it, too.” There’s no humor in her response.
Blue pauses for a few seconds. “Please move so I can leave.”
“Promise me you’ll think about it.”
She nods her head once in agreement, then I step aside. The edge of her wing brushes my body as she passes.
Blue leaves the door open on her way out, a silent invitation for me to leave the club. Normally, I’d linger, but there are few issues I need to clean up first.
Stalking out of the club without even bothering to look up at Blue’s cage, I pass Granger on my way across the first floor. Our shoulders collide, knocking neither of us out of place. He glares at me, and I smile.
Because fuck him.
That’s why.
By the time I’m done with that piece of shit, I’ll have everything I want, and he’ll get to live with the agony of knowing I made it happen.
Patrick glances up at me as I step out the front door.
“You almost got caught,” he says on a chuckle. “I think Granger’s figured out this game, he just doesn’t know all the players involved in it. That is … except you.”
Ignoring what he said, I change the subject. My mind is set on one objective, and idle chatter isn’t part of it.
“Would Granger fire Blue?”
“Blue?” His brown eyes pull away from the parking lot to catch mine. “You mean Ames?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he shakes his head. “Not likely. She’s the main event in this place. Everyone wants a chance to get some time with her.”
“Right. But if she told him to fuck off, would he care enough about that to keep her here?”
With one raised eyebrow, Patrick huffs. Apparently, he knows more about Granger and Blue than he’s letting on.
“Damn good question.”
“I have a second. Is Granger the only owner of this club?”
Patrick shakes his head. “There’s a partner. But he usually stays out of shit and let’s Granger run the show. The only time he gets involved is when there’s something threatening the club legally or whatnot. The man will protect his investment,\ but otherwise doesn’t care what goes on.”
Perfect.
That’s all I need to know.
I wave goodbye as I walk off then pull my phone from my pocket. Hitting speed dial, I wait the two rings it takes Taylor to answer.
“Damon? Everything good? Why are you calling so late?”
“I need information, and I need it kept secret. Nobody in the group can know.”
Sheets rustle like he’s moving around in bed, but with how much he loves his computer, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he sleeps with it. The damn thing probably has its own blanket and pillow.
“What do you need to know?”
“I need to know who owns Myth.”
“The club?” he asks, surprise lining his voice. “Are you helping out with what Tanner needed—“
