Stryker’s head was pounding by the time the tow truck arrived. “Hey, Stryker, how you doin’?”
“Never better,” Stryker bit out. “Get this car outta here.”
“Unless you need me, I’m going back inside,” Tank said. “It’s pretty crazy in there tonight.”
“It’s crazy every fuckin’ night,” Stryker grumbled.
With a laugh, Tank headed toward the entrance.
Within minutes, the vehicle was towed away, and Stryker parked in his spot. The thirty-minute time suck hadn’t helped his mood.
When he walked into his club, the blaring music only magnified his already pounding head. Pushing into the crowd, he made his way through the wall-to-wall bodies to the rectangular bar on L1.
“Where’s Mavis?” he called out to Parker, who was slinging drinks.
“Either filling in for April on L2 or in her office,” Parker replied. “She said you went looking for April. Did you find her?”
After stepping inside the bar, Stryker pulled a cold one from the fridge, popped the top, and chugged half the brew. He’d tell his staff about April after the club closed.
“We’ll catch up later.” Not waiting for more questions, Stryker hoofed it toward the stairs.
Mavis wasn’t tending bar on the second floor, so he continued up to L3. Passing the private kink rooms, he stopped in front of Mavis’s office.
Knock-knock.“It’s Stryker.”
“Yup.” Mavis’s throaty rasp cut through the silence.
He shut the door behind him. His GM was sucking down a lungful of nicotine. She exhaled the smoke and crushed the cigarette into an already cluttered ashtray. “You were gone a while. What’s the word on April?”
Stryker eased into the black leather guest chair. “I found her.”
“Good,” Mavis replied. “Is she helping out downstairs?”
Stryker wasn’t going to sugar coat the truth. “She’s dead.”
Mavis reached for another cigarette. “Oh, God, no. That can’t be right.”
“Leave those.” Stryker tossed the pack in the trash.
Mavis nibbled a fingernail. “What happened?”
“No idea.”
“And?”
“I called the police.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sad.”
For Stryker, sad had morphed into fury decades ago.
“Was she killed?” Mavis asked. “Suicide? Did she have a medical condition? You gotta tell me something.”
The eerie image of April in the wedding gown crashed into his thoughts. “That’s all I got.”
“Are you letting the staff know?”
“After we close.” He pushed out of the chair. “I’ll be in my office.” After shutting the door behind him, he took the back stairs down to his private office in the basement. His dungeon in The Dungeon.
