“Come along, puppy,” she jerked her head toward the nearby club, almost to the door, while I had been nagged on by her friend. “Patty, stop playing with your food. I promise if he gives me trouble, I’ll toss him to you first.”
Patty harrumphed, arms crossed over her ample bust as she stepped back out of my way. Her dark glare hadn’t budged even a little. “Yeah, you do that.”
‘Davina’ spread across the black door in a vibrant red cursive, and just to the right along the doorframe was a small Red Riot logo painted at eye level. It was just like the one I found at Masked Merrow that had led me to the gang in the first place.Lorelai yanked the door open and didn’t wait for me to step through into the darkened lobby. I barely caught the edge before it slammed into my fingers.
Even if I hadn’t known the connection to the Riot, it wouldn’t have shocked me to find that Davina was under the same ownership as Masked Merrow by the feel of it. A dark blue and black color palette ran through the cozy space. Heavy drapery looped along the ceiling’s rafters, while plush black leather booths lined the exterior with a large dance floor. A bluesy jazz band played onstage, their mellow notes low enough to hear conversations among the tables. The clientele seemed elevated as well, not exactly coming to thrash with sweaty bodies on a crowded floor and take body shots until they puked. Female shifters wove throughout the crowd, in sleek black dresses and red heels, offering demure smiles and pleasant chitchat to men in suits with their well-groomed companions or groups of classy women dripping in diamonds. It was an elevated lounge by all purposes, one that Lorelai moved through with confidence, despite not fitting into the picture at all. She was a bright neon pink spot crossing a sea of black that flowed around her effortlessly. Or maybe she was the shark that cut through the water. The club-goers made a path for Lorelai to pass through with little more than small nods and the slight raising of glasses in acknowledgement.
She gestured to someone standing by a door in the back corner, who nodded and left his post to meet her halfway. She spoke low enough that I couldn’t hear, but the conversation was obviously about me based on the way his sharp blue eyes lifted and narrowed on me while he nodded again. He was built like a wrestler, muscles straining the cut of his simple black suit, but not to the point of ill-fitting, and his blond hair was buzzed close to his scalp. Scars ran along the whole right side of his face from temple to chin, crisscrossing in fine lines as if they came froma knife. He must be a human, since shifters didn't scar when they healed from wounds like that. All in all, he gave the vibe of someone I didn’t want to fuck with. And I worried I was about to be stuck in a room with him.
I could hate Lorelai all I wanted for her over-inflated confidence, but I had to admire, though begrudgingly, the respect she commanded. Both the guard and Patty deferred to her, not out of fear, but of an obedience earned through unwavering loyalty. The difference between her and Andrea, an infamous mob boss well-known in darker circles, was startling.
The man stepped aside and waited for us to pass, ushering us into the door he was guarding that led into a long, dimly lit hallway. Lorelai led me past several unmarked doors to the second one from the emergency exit on the right. The simple black door was heavier than it looked; her weight shifted on those towering platform shoes as she pulled it open, the man following us reaching over her head to grab the edge and hold it for us.
“Feckin’ gargantuan,” she muttered, but it was good-natured. “Always showin’ off with your long legs.”
He chuckled low. “Sorry, boss,” he responded as she brushed past him into the room. With his teasing tone, it was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic with the ‘boss’ title. Then he turned to me, and his whole demeanor flipped. His brow dipped low over his clear eyes, and I swore I heard a rumbling growl. “You, behave.”
The restraint it took to keep my eyes from rolling was monumental. “I’d be more worried about her.”
We both watched as she wandered over to a small bar on the side wall and began poking through several bottles of liquor. Lorelai cocked one hip to the side and seemed very unsatisfied with the selection as she rocked a couple back to read the labels and grumbled something about being ‘too sober for this shit.’“Oi, Brad! Did Taylor drink all the feckin’ Scotch or what? Can’t believe he only left rum and tequila, the bastard!”
The guard finally answered, still watching the grouchy woman as she stomped over to throw herself onto the black leather couch and dig her phone out of a pocket. “You’re right. But I can’t tell her to behave and expect her to listen.”
And that’s what he left me with when the door slammed heavily behind me. For a brief moment, I felt trapped in a small cage with a large tiger. One that was allegedly ‘too sober for this shit.’ Still, I mustered my remaining courage and stepped further into the room with a known fucking killer. Even then, I couldn’t make it far from the door. Lorelai had shifted to toss her legs over one arm of the chair and leaned back to prop her head on the other. From my point of view, I could see just the edge of a sharp, pale jaw sprinkled with light freckles.
Watching her casually drape herself over the recliner like she owned the place pissed me off for some irrational reason. Whether it was her callous demeanor or the spicy chai notes of her natural scent accented with a sweet vanilla perfume that tickled my nose in a confusing way, I was not enjoying being stuck in a small office with the likes of this woman. Now that I knew they were the same person, I began to notice the same confidence she carried as the bartender in Masked Merrow. Every space she inhabited seemed like she unapologetically owned.
“So,” she began in her modulated voice. Her right leg began to bob in an impatient tempo where it was crossed over the other. “What the fuck do you want?”
Her bluntness had my hackles rising. I tightened my hands into fists but kept them in my lap with some semblance of restraint. The audacity of this woman was astounding. “Usually we would start with introductions, but,” I snapped, like I had a sudden epiphany. “We’ve already met, haven’t we,Lorelai?”I couldn’t control the snide tone sharpening my voice. Just the thought of this woman laughing behind my back as I floundered about under the assumption she was two different people, pissed me off to no end.
Her head tilted a little to the left, her chin propped up with a fist as her elbow leaned on the recliner’s cushioned arm. “Yeah? Is your delicate ego bruised now? Let’s cut the shite and get to the point of why you’re here then. I’m a busy lady.”
“Where do you fall in the Red Riot hierarchy?” That wasn’t the question I intended to start with. It just kind of fell from my lips. “You seem to be rather high up in the pecking order.”
She seemed to regard me for a minute, then burst into roaring laughter so hard she rocked her head back. The sound was alien and robotic through her mask, sending gooseflesh along my arms. The angle flashed another enticing view of the curve of her jaw. The sight made my mouth water despite the slow burn of annoyance heating my chest as she blatantly laughed at my expense.
“Oh,” she finally sighed. It had been a good two minutes straight of her monotone cackling. “That's the first time I'd been compared to a feckin'chicken! Where the hell did Andrea find you?”
I immediately bristled at the question. “I’m not sure what you mean, but–”
“You think we’re idgits?” She was obviously amused, so I’m sure my reluctant discomfort was plain on my face. “Andrea’s hand was so far up Frank’s ass he’s practically a puppet. And then Frank ‘brought’ you to Vegas?” Lorelai put air quotes to make her point. “Please spare me the half-assed cover story you three cooked up.” My eyes locked on a piece of hair she had begun playing with, watching her twist and re-twist the loud pink strands around her pointer finger, tipped with a short black nail.
“So, again, let’s skip the formalities and get straight to what business you think you have with the Riot boss.”
I struggled to swallow the lump of nerves lodged painfully in my throat. It had been a long time since this kind of shock struck me dumb. Typically, I made it a point to be the most informed person in the room. Never mind the fact she obviously thought I was beneath her. “Fine,” I admitted. “You’re right, I do work for Andrea Caruso.”I hope this didn’t invite an early death.“I was under the impression Lupi Selvaggi was on good terms with Red Riot, so I didn’t think it was much of an issue to come in under Frank and introduce myself.”
She scoffed loudly. “I would rather cram Andrea in a barrel and shove his ass out of a plane over the ocean. I only put up with him because it would be a pain in the ass to wipe out all his little minions if he died.”
I fucking knew it. Andrea tossed me into the lion’s den.“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure he would be interested in opening communication to resolve whatever issues you think have started between the two groups.”
“I would have considered it if he wasn’t coming into our feckin' city and taking girls from under our noses to sell in his fucked up skin trade!” Lorelai bolted upright in the recliner, no longer the picture of ease. “Now I’m half tempted to send you back to him one piece at a time. How about that for open communication?”
“I was not made aware of this… growing tension,” I began. My voice was low and smooth in an attempt to be diplomatic. “I’m sure a simple conversation with Mr. Caruso would clear all this up, but–”
“I don’t give a shit what his excuse is,” she cut me off. I had to grit my teeth to keep in the snarl that rumbled in my chest. “I have solid evidence, and unless you’re able to get him to issue an apology to us directly, along with a significant amount of money for emotional damage, I recommend you fuck all the way off toChicago. Or wherever you crawled your slimy ass out of.” She moved to stand up, fists clenched at her side, giving away the anger her voice modulator tried to hide.
“And who are you to present evidence and make demands? Again, I’m under the impression you’re in a similar position to me, working under the boss.”
