My eyes zero in on a man leaning close to a woman. His looks are pretty, and his smile is smooth. His hand is deceptively casual as he drops something into her glass. It fizzes slightly on impact, but other than that, nothing else is out of order. She doesn’t notice. She only laughs, tossing her head back at some charming line no doubt, as she takes a big swig out of her drink. He raises his in mock salute, downing the rest, encouraging her to do the same. She mirrors him, trusting and unaware of his intentions.
My heart plummets as I see him for what he is—stripped of charm and a well-bred façade. He is nothing but a predator. He presses closer, angling his body, so the crowd shields them from view. She sways against him as her movements dissolve into his control. And to anyone else, it looks like nothing more than dancing. Like she maintains her own faculties, but I see the subtle falter, the slowing of her movements, and I know that at this point the drugs are taking effect, winding through her bloodstream, and rendering her helpless. So he’ll make his move soon, and no one will be the wiser. Except for me, because I notice all those things shrouded in shadows.
I lean forward, tracking his movements, and the shift in my body catches Emma’s eyes. She looks at me as I stand abruptly. But before she can speak, I yell. “I’ll be right back!” over the noise. The velvet cushion falls to the floor as I leap from my seat and take the stairs quickly to the lower level. My pulse beats in time with the bass from the dance floor as I scan the area forthem. I continue to scan the crowd, frantically searching for that tall mop of blond hair, until I spot him. His arm coils around the woman, holding onto her tightly as she appears to sway in his arms. He guides her to the exit, and I follow.
I stand in the corner, hidden away, embracing the darkness that provides a protective cover and advantage. He’s talking to another man. Irritation flickers across his face as this interruption keeps him from his real intent. I take the syringe out of my pocket and uncap it, holding it in my hand, ready to strike at any given moment.
He slips out the back door, causing my pulse to accelerate. I see him exit into the empty alley. It’s then that I know what his intentions are. She’s there, pressed against the wall, as she leans limply in his grip. Her movements are unsteady, and her once cute little skirt is hiked up, her panties torn on the ground, discarded as he undoes his pants. His eyes meet mine. His predatory focus is clear, knowing he has her cornered and isolated. I step forward, deliberately slow, keeping to the unlit portion of the wall to disguise my face just in case. His pupils widen when he sees me approaching, thinking his deal got a bit sweeter—a two-for-one, as his lips twist in a cruel smirk.
“What the fuck do you want, sweets? I’m kind of busy here with my girl.” The woman leans against him, her head still on his shoulder, as she lies unresponsive to our heated exchange. I keep approaching, steadily gaining footage. I notice her eyes open, as her hand twitches just a little in my direction, in a silent plea for help.
And then I charge. The syringe plunges into his neck as the medication sears through his thick skin and rips through the striated tissue fibers beneath. His reactions are slow to acknowledge what I just did, as he drops the woman and stumbles backward, touching his neck where I stabbed him. He runs it along the wound, and a smear of blood comes away fromthe site, gleaming in the dim light. I used a big ass needle to push the medication faster and harder into the circulatory system. His eyes bulge with rage and he lunges at me expectantly, seeking vengeance. I stumble back, but he pins me to the wall, forcing me further into the recesses of the alleyway.
“What the fuck did you give me, you bitch?” he shouts, spittle flying toward my face. My lips quirk up in a smirk, anticipating what is coming. His hand shoots to my neck, squeezing as I grit my teeth. I had taken a deep breath, expecting his maneuver, as he starts to choke me. But the joke's on him. This loser is nothing but predictable as fucking clockwork. Two minutes stretch like hours, though in reality, it’s less than that. I feel his hands begin to shake involuntarily, then loosen against his will. His body drops like a ton of bricks awkwardly onto the ground, convulsing. I instinctively clutch my throat, gasping as I rub at the sting his grip left behind. The sensation still feels fresh against my cooling skin. I let my hand fall away and lean forward, bracing my palms on my thighs. I’m thankful I had the foresight to hold my breath. I look over to his flailing body as the medication takes hold of him. For a moment, I was afraid it would be a subpar dose, but luckily it’s working as intended; otherwise, this could have had a very different outcome.
I sway on my feet before sprinting toward the girl lying on the ground. Just then, I see Emma and Eduardo, along with Gus and his replacement, Philip, merge from the back alley running toward me.
“What the fuck happened?” Eduardo asks, his voice unnervingly calm as if this type of crazy chaos is just another night at the club. He’s too calm considering a man is sprawled out on the ground in the alley of his club, and an unconscious girl isn’t far away, as if this shit happens all the time. I rub at my throat, still trying to recover from the strangulation attempt. As I try to speak, Philip lifts the girl and carries her around tothe back entrance. Her head hangs limply in his arms until she disappears from view.
My gaze returns to the man on the alley floor, his lips tinged grayish-blue. The fight has left him. “Deprived of oxygen and a life-saving breathing tube.” The words sound hoarse to even my own ears. I gesture in response to Eduardo’s question, extending my hand at the man lying on the cement. I tilt my head, almost hearing his heart faltering. Its rhythm is weakening, as his heart is probably stopping as we speak. Flatlining in that perfectly asystolic line that marks life’s end. It grips me with such emotion as I remember my own mother taking her last breaths, her body stilling and breath ceasing.
Emma touches me, and I flinch, yanked back to the present. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “That piece of shit drugged her. I saw it. He was just about to do terrible things to her before I got here.” I attempt to act unaffected, although the adrenaline still coursing through betrays me. Emma rubs a gentle, soothing circle along my back.
She coos softly, “There, there, Dani. It’s all going to be alright.”
Eduardo strides over to the man still sprawled out on the floor and, for good measure, delivers a hard kick to his ribs. I hear the sickening crunch of bones breaking as he mutters a curse. “Piece of shit rapist,” he spews, spittle flying.
I glance up. The door swings open as Evie and Jameson appear. Evie lights up a cigarette between her fingers and strolls toward me. Smoke billows from her mouth as she lifts her chin, exhaling the remainder out in one quick stream.
Emma opens her mouth to speak, but Evie holds up a hand, stopping her.
“Before you chastise me for smoking, sister,” Evie says, taking a long drag from her cigarette, “I just came to tell you that Liv was dizzy and nearly fainted.”
She crouches beside the man sprawled out on the ground, smoke trailing from her lips as she studies him with calm detachment. With a smirk tugging at her lips, she mutters, “Well, he’s fucking dead. What happened?”
But before I can respond, Emma rushes past me. “I fucking knew Liv was pregnant again.” Her tone is clipped, but there’s no animosity there toward her friend as she raises her hand in the air, addressing Jameson.
Jameson takes out his cell phone, glancing at his messages with a knowing smirk. “Dax is on his way to get her. Just like last time, huh, Emma?” Emma hesitates at the door before rolling her eyes and then turns back.
“Don’t worry about it, Dani, we’ll take care of it. Evie, can you stay with my friend?” She looks between us. Evie nods, and Emma rushes inside, trailed by Gus.
Eduardo runs his hands through his hair, tension etched into every line of his face. He starts giving orders, and I can see that he is the leader. They, despite being family, all have their own roles in the organization they have established. “Jameson, can you scrub any footage?” Then he turns to Evie. “Can you get rid of the body?” Eduardo asks playfully. “You seem to have a knack for doing that, don’t you?”
Evie takes one last drag of her cigarette before flicking it on the corpse. Her smile is sickly sweet, almost deranged, as she presses a button on her phone, lifts it to her ear, and is ready to act. “Mateo, can you come to the club? I need help with a body.” She pauses briefly, and I hear yelling on the other end. She doesn’t flinch. “Just bring the van and park in the usual spot.” She says, then ends the call and pockets her phone.
She eyes me and nods. “You should go. I’ll take care of this.” Jameson is already on his phone trying to address the security footage, as I am learning is his specialty.
Eduardo sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, and looking upward in a plea, “Can’t I get a moment's peace?” he mutters, striding down the alley and stopping mid-step. He glances back at me. “Why aren’t you following me?” he asks, and I don’t hesitate, following in step behind him. He leads me through a nondescript door and into a long, narrow hallway. I can almost feel a pulse in the air from where the elusive club lies beyond. What is it called? The Hidden Pearl? But we don’t go near there, and I’m almost disappointed. Sensing my thoughts, he shakes his head and chuckles.
Instead, he guides me up a dimly-lit corridor. At the end, Eduardo’s door to his office is slightly ajar, and I see Liv reclining on the couch. Her posture is relaxed, and it quickly sets my mind at ease. Across from her, a tall man with kind blue eyes kneels before her, watching her with an almost worshipful intensity.
As I enter the office, I hear him chastising her. “Really, Liv, I can’t believe this happened again. Can’t you just take a pregnancy test like everyone else?” he asks, but there is no bite to his tone. Only warmth, care, and devotion radiate from him. It reminds me so much of how Vic used to look at me not long ago.
As everyone disperses, Emma slips her arm through mine, gently guiding me out of the office through the hallway.
“Come on, killer, let's get you home.” We emerge into the alley, now eerily empty. No body. No evidence. Only the shadows remain and the faint buzz of the city beyond.
TWENTY
