“You know him?” Caleb asks, glancing between us.
“Helped his sister out once,” I say casually.
The bouncer sees me, gives a quick nod, and opens the door without a word.
Inside, the club throbs with the bass and the air is thick with smoke. Everyone smiles, dances, and drinks. Inhibitions are out the window, and that’s exactly what Henry expects.
Women offer shy smiles, and Caleb is already veering toward one with a grin.
“Keep it in your pants, man,” I grunt.
He smirks like a bastard.
“There,” Beau murmurs, chin lifting slightly.
My eyes land on him. Henry, he’s sitting at the bar, leaning close to a silver-haired woman, smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and that woman? She will be his next victim.
“She’s too hot for that fucker,” Caleb mutters as he joins us, sipping bourbon while he shoves a phone number into his pocket.
My gaze shifts to her, dressed in all black, hair brushing her shoulders. She has that sweet, innocent face that Henry usually goes for. If we weren’t here tonight, she’d end up in a ditch somewhere.
We couldn’t find enough evidence to pin him outright, but two women vanished after nights with him. I’d bet anything they’re buried somewhere no one will ever find.
“What’s the plan again?” Beau asks. His back is to Henry, pretending to watch a girl dance on the platform. Always subtle, even though she's not his type.
“We wait,” I say, eyes locked on the bastard’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “He’ll leave with her. That’s when we move.”
I catch the bartender’s eye, signal for a drink, andnod toward Caleb.
We blend in as best we can, but honestly? I don’t give a fuck. After tonight, every bit of surveillance in this club will vanish. Same for the traffic cams, Beau’s a ghost in the system.
“And the girl?” Caleb asks, turning slightly to face me.
I sip the bourbon slowly, eyes never leaving the mirror. “We tell her she got lucky. She can scream her way out of the alley if she wants.”
Henry leans closer to her now. Casual touches, laughing, before turning to signal his friends that he’s making his exit.
My eyes shift to the woman just as her hand moves, quick, sprinkling a powder into his glass.
“Did she just—?” Beau freezes mid-sentence, staring.
“Were those drugs?” Caleb doesn’t blink, still watching through the mirror.
What the fuck? Henry’s usually the one slipping things into drinks. What is this? Some new kink he has?
They move. He struts out, and she follows, hips swaying, giggling like a fucking schoolgirl.
We head out through the main doors, but a group of drunk assholes are throwing punches in the street.
“Motherfuckers,” I mutter, trying to get around them.
Caleb—of course—laughs and throws a punch.
“The fuck, Caleb?” I snap, just as one of them swings at me.
He shrugs, grinning. “Warm-up, brother.” He jabs one guy in the gut; the poor bastard pukes immediately.
We waste too much time dealing with them, so we move fast down the alley, keeping to the dark side with our hoods up and sliding the masks and gloves on. We slip into the shadows behind a dumpster, silent, and there she is.
