“Where are you taking her? She’s not leaving.” Max shakes his head. “She needs to be here with us. She’ll be protected if we’re all around her.”
I cup her quivering chin and look into her eyes. The fear, the panic, the terror…fuck, this is all on me. “We’re going to my office. She can stay there until we take care of this. It’ll give me time to figure out what to do next.”
Shaye clutches the jacket around her shoulders, and I look over at her. “Stay close to me. Don’t look at anyone, understand?”
She nods, and I open the door, scanning the hallway, seeing nothing that would make me raise an eyebrow. My guests are very occupied at this moment, in some capacity or other. Getting off is their primary goal for the night. I grasp Shaye’s hand and pull her close, Max following close behind. We snake our way through the crowd in the direction of my private elevator when a hand grabs my shoulder.
I stop short and take a deep breath before turning toward the owner of that hand. A deep scowl settles into my face as I make my move. Jackson Brody, a cocksucker of a real estate investor, smirks at me.
“Salesi. I need a meeting.”
I cock an eyebrow and shrug off his hand. “You know what to do.”
“I’m tired of talking to your bitch secretary. I’ve got a deal that—”
Rage bubbles in my chest and in a few seconds, I’m gonna let it erupt the fuck out of me. Brody, beware. I drop Shaye’s hand and push into Jackson’s chest, hissing just like the snake he is. “Don’t fucking touch me, Brody. I don’t talk business down here or anywhere in public, for that matter. You have something for me? Get a fucking meeting on my calendar. And if you see me again before that happens, walk in the other fucking direction.”
I can actually see Jackson’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat. I like to think I’m pretty civil when people approach me, but tonight is a very fucking bad night, and I have zero tolerance for shitheads like Jackson Brody right now.
He manages a weak smile and nods, backing away from me. It’s only then that I notice a petite redhead standing next to him. Dipshit is probably trying to nail her and figured if he could get a reaction out of me, he’d have her on her back before the night is over.
Too bad for him the reaction he got isn’t the one that’s gonna get him laid.
“Dude, calm the fuck down,” Max grumbles as I pull Shaye past Brody around the corner toward the elevator.
I stab at the Up button and turn the key into the lock since it’s my own private one. Nobody enters unless I’m along for the ride.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I growl, stepping into the elevator once the door opens. My throat is tight, and I can barely squeeze out the words. Sweat beads pop up along the back of my neck. I have no idea what to expect once we get off this elevator. I have no idea what to expect once we leave the club tonight. And I have no fucking idea how to make this okay for Shaye.
“He drops a shit ton of cash here, Nico.”
“I don’t need his money,” I grumble, cracking my knuckles one at a time. It’s a bad fucking habit, one I really need to drop once I’m stress-free.
Which will be never, so I guess I’m destined for arthritis—that is, if I live long enough.
“You can’t treat clients like that because you’re having a bad night.”
“You’re telling me not to lose my shit?”
“Yep. I’m trying to do my fucking job, asshole. That includes keeping the guests happy.”
I shake my head. I’m in the Twilight Zone.
The elevator creeps up to the second floor, and thoughts rattle my brain as the seconds tick past. I haven’t told anyone my suspicions yet about Luca being the killer. I wonder how long it’s going to take for them to realize what…or rather, who…we’re dealing with.
I can see Max studying me out of the corner of my eye, but I won’t meet his questioning gaze. I don’t want to encourage him. I’ve said plenty already. Let him figure it the fuck out from here. And I don’t want to answer any questions in front of Shaye. I hope he keeps his mouth shut until I can get her into my office and away from the reality that has become my fucking life.
Ding!
The doors open, and I poke my head out, saying a silent prayer just before my eyes dart up and down the darkened hallway. I don’t see anyone, so I walk out, pulling Shaye behind me. I unlock my office, push her inside, and point at Max while I grab my gun from the top drawer. “Stay here. Don’t open the door for anyone. Wait for me, understand?”
He nods and shuts the door. I hear the lock flip, and I turn on my heel in the direction of a nearby private staircase. No elevator leads to the back entrance of the club. This area of Culaccino is always on lockdown. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I round a corner and jog down the steps. My hand slides over the gun tucked into the back of my pants, and I take a deep breath before pushing open the back door.
I peer around the parking lot and spot Duke hunched over a motionless Carlo next to the dumpster. Rocco is kneeling next to him, his head lowered.
“What the fuck happened?” I growl, running over to them.
Duke runs a hand over his shiny bald head and lets out a deep sigh. “I came out for a smoke and found him laying here. Nico…” He lifts one of Carlo’s arms. “This wasn’t just a fucking beating. Someone crushed his bones. This wasn’t done with a weapon. This shit was done by hand.”