She arches her back, mouth opening wide, and screams. It makes my chest tighten, listening to her. “I know, Lake. I know.”
“Ple-ase.” She begins to sob while Colt continues to pin her arms down to the table above her head. “Pull it out,” she cries, and starts to kick her legs, making me wiggle the knife which just makes her scream again.
“Goddammit,” I hiss. “Lake, you have to—”
“Take it out. Take it out,” she sobs.
“She’s making it worse.” Colton growls the obvious.
Letting go of it for just a second, I jump up onto the table and sit on her thighs, pinning them down underneath me. And my hands grip her upper arms, holding them down. “In the safe.” I nod to it back in the corner.
Colton lets go of her wrists and runs over to it. I tell him the code and he opens it. “Black box. Bottom shelf.”
He yanks it out and pops it open, immediately understanding what I’m saying. Pulling the syringe out, he holds up the vile of clear liquid and fills the syringe.
She catches sight of what he’s doing, and her wide eyes meet mine. “No, Tyson. Please.” Her body thrashes on the table. “You promised me,” she cries. “You promised you wouldn’t drug me.”
“Hurry up,” I shout at Colton. Technically, I never said I wouldn’t. I just said I wasn’t going to.
He tosses the vile to the floor and it breaks as he rushes back over to us. Gripping her face, he pushes it to the side and plunges the needle into her neck. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and her body goes slack instantly.
Letting go of her arms, I place my hands back on the knife, trying to control the bleeding.
* * *
I getoff the elevator and step out into the club, looking around. The lights are now on. The club shut down. Colton, Finn, Alex, and Jenks stand by the bar. Some of my cocktail servers sit at a table. My bartenders are behind the main bar and my four security men stand next to it.
“How many?” I ask.
“Six total.” Alex is the one who answers.
Six people were injured during the fight in some way. “How many were employees?”
“Two, but only one went for medical treatment,” Colton responds.
I nod. I was told that Bethany has a broken arm and Starla drove her to the hospital. My wife was stabbed, but she did not go to the hospital. The last thing I want is her out in public. I want this to remain as secretive as possible. The less that know, the better. She’s upstairs in our apartment with Gavin right now.
Turning, I make my way toward the basement, and I hear them following behind me. Pushing open the door, I take the stairs to find a guy on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back and head down. When he hears me, he jumps to his feet.
I pause, my eyes going over to the table my wife was laying on just hours ago. It’s still covered in her blood. And her torn leotard lays ripped on the floor. “What happened?” I’ll give him one chance to explain why my wife got stabbed tonight.
“Tyson.” His wide eyes go from mine to the guys behind me when they join us. “I didn’t do this. I promise. I didn’t know…”
I raise my hand and he stops rambling. “Who was here with you tonight?” I ask a different question.
By the time Gavin arrived and we got Lake up to our apartment, most of the guys who started the fight were long gone. Which is fine, I’ll track them down. My wife’s life was in danger, and she comes first.
“My phone.” He swallows. “I’ve got texts of everyone who was meeting us out tonight. A couple of the guys I didn’t know—”
Colton grabs the back of his neck and slams the side of his face down onto the bloody, metal slab while Finn digs into his pockets, looking for the phone. “Nothing.” Finn looks at me, shaking his head.
“Did you guys find any phones?” I turn, asking Jenks and Alex. They both shake their heads. I face the guy once more, shoving my hands into the pocket of my slacks. “This is a problem.”
Colton lets go of him and the guy stumbles back. “I promise I didn’t know she was your wife.”
It’s not uncommon for fights to break out at Blackout. It’s usually a nightly ordeal. But I want to know if my wife was a target or not.
Removing my hand, I pull out the piece of knife that was removed from my wife’s side. She’s lucky. The blade had been broken so it wasn’t as deep as it could have been. But someone still has to pay for it. I walk over to him, and he starts shaking his head.
