“She texted me. When will she start dancing?” I ask, opening the messages back up and sliding the texts to the side to see the time she sent the last one. “She said she was getting ready at 10:45. It’s 11:08 now.”
“She’s probably going to take the 11:30-12:30 hour. The working girls alternate throughout the night. Since we allow female customers into the nightclub section, it’s not like the men are just standing around dancing with each other—I mean, unless they’re gay. Our girls are there to keep the crowd pumped and dance with the men who haven’t paired off with the female customers,” she explains.
“I’ve got to go, Seth. I have to get her out of there,” I tell him, my voice only hinting at the panic I’m feeling in this moment. “A Secret is half an hour away. And she’ll be out there in twenty, and you know the second this motherfucker sees her—”
“Why our Quill girls gotta be so fucking hot?” he gripes, and he must hit the print button on the screen, because the printer comes to life inside the desk. “Printing the background check with his picture so we can spot him when we get there.” And a tiny bit of relief mixes with the swirling emotions inside me that I don’t even have to ask him for his help.
“Y’all are going to need some like… backup or something. There’s no way you’re getting through those doors without a membership. Only single females are allowed in without a member’s card,” Heather says, and Seth turns wicked eyes to me.
“Oh, we’ve got backup, sweetie. Don’t you worry about that,” he speaks to her as he winks at me.
I’m sending a text to Brian and Corbin before the sentence is even out of his mouth.
“What about you, Heather? Would you be willing to help us get in another way that won’t require us to go in guns a’blazing?” Seth asks, his mind obviously working faster than mine, because I was just going to crash through the front door with my fucking SUV.
“I…” Her eyes are suddenly anxious. “I um…”
“We will protect you at all times. I’m thinking you walk in just like you would any other night you work, say you were running late for some reason, but now you’re ready to work. I don’t know—anything to get you through to the back. You said there’s a door near the dressing room, right? We’ll meet you back there, and all you gotta do is open it. We’ll take care of the rest,” Seth tells her, and I glance up from my messages with our other guys to see her nod reluctantly.
“I… I can do that.” She takes a deep breath. “I can do that,” she says with more conviction, and she stands.
I slide my cell in my pocket and step around the desk, taking hold of her biceps before she can go anywhere. “You will never know how grateful I am for your courage tonight. After this night is over, I want you to quit that place, and I will personally find you a job either in my office or at Club Alias. We don’t pay nearly the amount A Secret does, but at least you’ll know you’re safe and aren’t working for someone who could turn on you and take your life.”
Her eyes go wide, her chin wobbling for a moment. “Thank you, Dr. Walker.” She blinks back her tears. “Let’s go get your girl,” she murmurs, and Seth closes the cabinet containing the printer, separating the papers and handing me a set.
I flip the page to find his picture…
And the world stops spinning.
My heart plummets to my stomach and catches fire in the lava-like acid there as equal parts rage and terror fill me.
Yes, Heather was right when she said Randy is short for his last name. It’s short for Randolph.
The papers start to shake in my hand the longer I look at the picture, because although he’s much older than the last time I saw him, I’d recognize those soulless eyes anywhere.
They’re the eyes of Elias Randolph, the boy who raped my sweet Shelly twenty-four years ago.Chapter 22Doc“We should take my car,” Heather says as Seth locks the glass front door of Imperium Security. “Astrid drove, so they’ll think it’s weird if your car comes through the gate. They won’t look twice at mine.”
“Good thinking,” I tell her, and as we’re walking around the building to the parking garage, we hear tires squeal, echoing down the street. Within seconds, an SUV comes to a skidding stop next to us before we can go down the stairs to where Heather parked.
Corbin jumps out of the passenger side, and I get the barest glimpse of Brian before the door is shut and he takes off around the front of the building.