IWASa little late getting to the club, so I went straight to the back bar where Carson was waiting. He’d arrived late that afternoon, but I’d been moving Chantilly and her daughter into Asher’s house.
The fair-skinned tall drink of water whose real name was Lisa was finally safe. She’d kept offering to pay me rent, and the whole affair took longer than I expected, but was worth it. Now Lisa and her beautiful blue-eyed daughter were set up in a mansion worth more than she’d ever make in a lifetime, and I was late for my meeting with Carson, but I didn’t need another missing person on my conscience.
“Hey, man,” I said, slapping Carson on the back.
He stood up and pulled me in for a bro hug before returning to his Scotch.
Lifting my chin to the bar back, I said, “I’ll have what he’s having.”
“Like what you did with the space down here.” Carson smirked, his gaze wandering the club’s lilac decor.
“Shut up. You probably spend as much time in strip clubs as I do. Besides, your wife did all this purple shit.”
“How you doing, man,” he asked while we waited for my drink, his brown eyes laser focused on me. He was older than me—over a decade—and I took in the hint of gray in his beard, the laugh lines and slight crow’s feet. All evidence he was living life, and doing it while smiling.
“Not good, bro,” I answered honestly, staring down at my basketball shoes.
Silence hung between us. Carson wasn’t Asher. He might be as bossy and protective with his lady and kids, but Carson was different. Schooled in real-world shit, well-educated, and a decorated federal agent, he was calmer, cooler, more pragmatic than Ash. He was the right person to ask for help on this. Asher would have already lost his shit, ridden his bike over to Bruno’s, and opened up fire—all before hiring some mercenaries to find the people keeping Lynx.
“You got to have a clear head, Mike,” Carson said, interrupting my thoughts. “Getting yourself all tied up in emotion is gonna fuck everything up. Like when I saw Lila’s ex drag her into that building, intending to rape her, I had to wait and go in at the right moment. It was hell for me, but my patience got that piece of shit locked up behind bars forever.” He ran his hand through his hair and released a long breath. “More important than that, I got Lila back safely.”
“I feel you, man, but this shit is fucked up.” I tossed back my drink. “Really fucked up. How the hell did Lynx get involved with a sex ring? And why? For fuck’s sake, why?” I tamped down the urge to slam my fist on the bar, shoving it deep inside where it formed a knot from all the tension.
“We don’t have those answers. If we did, we’d have Lynx. But we’re going to get her, you hear me?” He clamped a hand on my shoulder and shook it.
My head bobbing with the movement, I barely heard him over the hip-hop blaring in the background, and the DJ announcing the next girls to take the stage. My mind was a million miles away from the Wave.
“How the hell we gonna do that?” I’d been on my own since I was a teen. I was used to solving shit solo, and I didn’t like feeling helpless.
“Leave that to me, tough guy,” Carson said matter-of-factly. When I stared at the floor, the deep mahogany hardwood planks eating up my panic, he tilted his chin toward the main stage, changing the subject so I wouldn’t have time to wallow in my fear. “You got a sweet thing going on here.”
Dragging my head out of my ass, I scanned the club. “Yeah, we’re doing well. Way in the black, just like Lila over in LA. Asher may not know much, but the ass knows strip clubs. He’s got the formula fucking down.”
“Think you do too, buddy. You got more stages down here, and I saw the long line of people behind the red rope, waiting to get in here. Oh, and I also know about the hotel, my man. You know Lila can’t keep that shit bottled up,” he said, smirking.
I shrugged. “Cat’s out of the bag now that Nat knows. We broke ground and the foundation is in. That shit is happening.”
Carson’s gaze moved back to the stage. “That the one you were sleeping with?” he asked, nodding toward Marta.
“Yeah. I’m stupid, man,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. It was growing out. Instead of my usual soft spikes, I was looking more like a shaggy surfer. I’d been so busy moving Chantilly, managing the club, meeting on the hotel, and obsessing over Lynx, I hadn’t been in for my regular buzz, another reminder of how even the little things didn’t matter anymore.
“Nah, you’re just a man.” Carson shook his head and eyed me. “But good thing you put an end to it, because that woman is crazy for you. She’s giving you a private dance in a room full of ready-to-go spectators.”
THE FIRSTthing I felt was fingers running up and down my leg, tracing patterns on my thighs.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” rang softly in my ear as delicate fingers massaged my tired muscles.
God, she’s back. Lynx is here. And Carson didn’t need to do anything illegal to find her.
“Hey, baby,” I said. It came out garbled and groggy.
“Hey,” she said back, another throaty whisper in my ear, sliding her taut body along mine.
The air rushed out of me. I could barely breathe from anxiety and excitement.
My cock was erect, reaching for the voice and its owner. I gave it a quick, hard squeeze, silently reminding it to be patient.
Because Lynx is here—in my bed.
