“I’ve always thought about it. But I never thought it would be possible given my job. Given the way I… At least, the way I used to…”
I place a finger to her lips. “All in the past, babe. If you want kids, I want to be their father. It’s a big conversation, one we can save for later.”
“If there is a later,” she mutters.
“There will be, damn it.” I squeeze her body to mine. After a few moments, her breathing has eased, and her heart beats in tandem with my own. I finally release her. “Besides, those bones might be a good thing.”
“How on earth—” She claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God. Do bones have DNA?”
“They do.” I grin. “Rouge might have been trying to freak you out, but she might have implicated herself in the process.”
“We’d have to get some other sample of Pierce’s DNA to prove it’s a match.” She paces the room. “Maybe he was a blood donor or something.”
“We’ll figure it out, babe. But grab those drumsticks and lock them away somewhere in your dressing room. Somewhere Rouge would never think to look for them.”
“I got it.” She flies out the door.
I’m glad Bianca is feeling better. I’m good at soothing her, turns out.
I just wish I was as good at soothing myself.
Because I’m fucking haunted right now.
Bones. A man’s bones were removed from his body and carved into a set of drumsticks.
At this point, I shouldn’t be shocked. At least with the organ harvesting, another life is being saved. It might be the life of one of Rouge’s degenerate friends, but still, the organ serves a greater purpose. With these bones, though… A man’s corpse was defiled just to send a fucking message.
But with a little luck, it may be Rouge’s undoing.
I hope that’s the case.
Or else Bianca’s and my bones will end up on that stage right next to Pierce’s.
Things are wrapping up at Aces. The bulk of the patrons left around midnight, and now just a few stragglers sit at the bar in Spades, with a couple more sitting in Clubs, high off their minds, I’m sure. Bianca’s finished up her final set and her band is packing away their instruments.
Rouge didn’t show up the whole night.
I can’t believe our luck.
She almost always makes an appearance at Aces every night it’s open, at least as far as I can remember. Even if she had an engagement at another club, she always pops in, usually at the least opportune moment.
Maybe she was here, and I didn’t notice.
But I would have felt her presence. Her aura of menace. It clings to her like stink to a wet dog.
Of course, the night ending at Aces is just the beginning for us.
My spending the night serving patrons as the Ace of Clubs is just a pretext to get me back on the bus to the Caterpillar Hotel. Keep an eye on Jack from now until the end of the night.
Then my heart sinks.
There’s a very good reason Rouge wouldn’t be here tonight.
Rose’s injury.
Her main confidante—the man who carries out some of her dirty work in secret—currently has a pen sticking out of his eye. By now, it’s probably been removed by a doctor. He might make a full recovery, but he’ll likely lose sight in his eye.
One fewer eye to look at me lecherously, I guess.
