“This has been on the table for weeks,” Salvatore states, furrowing his brows. “Manuel didn’t question his shipment.”
“Maybe because they haven’t checked it out yet. We would have heard something by now and Manuel would have trusted us enough not to question shit.” Or maybe he’s fucking scared to do that. That’s entirely a possibility. “This is a nightmare.”
“It fucking is,” he agrees.
“Look where they’ve listed as the delivery point,” I point when he scrolls to the end of the list.
They’ve listed the delivery point as Checkpoint A.
Salvatore and I exchange glances.
“What the hell is Checkpoint A?” I ask.
“The fuck if I know. Damn it to fuck. We keep finding pieces of the puzzle but nothing actually fits together. There’s always one more fucking thing to figure out.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Chapter Sixteen
Lilly
I’ve been a nervous wreck for the last two days. Nervous and scared to go out.
If I had the money, I would buy a gun for protection. I haven’t seen the man again, but I’ve been paranoid, and I’ve had the sensation more than once that someone was watching me.
I don’t know who the man is or who would want to have me followed so I’m putting it down to Lev trying to scare me, although that doesn’t seem to fit.
His men would have scared me outright like they did the other day. Lurking in the shadows isn’t their style at all.
I’ve thought about who this guy could be, and I’m stumped. The worse thing I could have is a stalker. I contemplated that too.
The other thing I thought of was Miguel’s enemies. But it’s unlikely to be them since he’s dead. Enemies making threats on family members or former family members tend to only happen if the person it’s likely to affect is alive and well, and if they cared.
Miguel didn’t care and it was a known thing. People knew too that he’d rather keep me under lock and key to take out his frustration when things went wrong, although he insisted that he loved me.
He just had the strangest ways of showing it.
I just finished my performance.
It was the first night that I didn’t feel the music. The first time when I couldn’t sense that magic I always feel when I dance. I performed tonight under strain, eager to leave.
My stupid mind also noted that Christian wasn’t here again. Not here again so I can’t talk to him and ask him what the hell it is he’s is playing at.
Once again, I make my way back to the dressing room to get ready and leave with anxiety twisting knots in my soul.
I turn the corner for the elevator and a shrill laugh makes me turn my head. It’s the kind of irritating laugh that can make a person crazy. It’s one of those girls again who can’t stand me. She’s topless, wearing nothing but a thong and looks very at home. She’s talking to someone, but I can’t see who. They’re standing behind the pillar.
When the person steps from behind the pillar and I see it’s Christian I stop short.
The woman runs her hands all over his shirt. When she tugs on the edge that rage, I felt the other day comes back to consume me. But I’m enraged now for more than one reason.
I’m not just pissed about the damn money. I’m pissed at myself for being so stupid. Stupid enough to give myself to him and open any form of emotion.
“Come on, we can go back to your office,” the woman says.
“I’m busy Megan, maybe some other time,” Christian says, and she releases him.
“I’m holding you to that,” she coos and blows him a kiss.
What an asshole.
Maybe some other time?
She walks away and he turns to go through a set of double doors.
I should go on my way. Go home and keep my mouth shut. I’m new here and I don’t want to ruin what I have. Rosie and I could still move with the money I’ll earn and what he’s already paid.
I should just leave well enough alone, but I can’t. I didn’t go through hell with Miguel only to have another man treat me like shit, and not when I’m trying so hard to fix my life and provide a better one for my child. He doesn’t know I have a child, but it shouldn’t matter. I want to know why he’s screwing with me.
My legs move, and I walk to where I saw him go. I head through the doors and up a set of stairs.
He stops at the top about to open another set of double doors and I take that chance to call out to him. He turns to see me and the look that washes over his face is utter surprise.
“Lilly,” he says regaining that stony composure that makes him look like the hardline mafia man he is. It’s not something I’m likely to forget. This is not a guy I should be talking to, let alone gearing up to give him a piece of my mind.
All I need though is the image of my daughter’s face. Her crying because a horrible group of assholes were bothering us and propositioning me for sex right in front of her.
Twenty bucks to suck their cocks. How much for group sex? Whore…
Those words rattle through my mind and I march up to him.
“Why did you close my bookings?” I ask, finding my voice. It comes out in a rasp but at least I say the words and it releases some of the fear. Suddenly I remember who I am. I remember the girl I was at Julliard, and the woman I became when I performed on stage in LA. Show after show, performance after performance. Mom used to tell me, one day people from all over the world would watch me dance. They did. That is who I am.
That’s not what I am now, but it’s still who I am.
“Do you think I chose to work here because I love dancing in your club, or that I signed my body away to do anything because I wanted to?” I unleash and something shifts in his eyes. I don’t know what it is. I don’t care. What I care about is saying what I have to say. “Do you think I would allow someone like you to touch me and throw me away like I’m nothing if I didn’t need the money? I would never know you in the real world if I didn’t need the money. How dare you screw with me?” I lash out and I don’t get to say another word.
Terror lances through me like a bolt of lightning when he catches my throat and shoves me against the wall. I cry out and in an instant, I think of Miguel. Except, Miguel would have rammed my head into the wall and punched me in my face right about now.
Fear makes me go still and my back ramrod straight as I tremble and quiver under his stare.
What’s he going to do?
What is he thinking?
I don’t know because I don’t know him.
I don’t know him, and I just made a big mistake.
He leans closer and tightens his grip on my neck. His fingers dig into my skin and I feel like I might die from the fright.
A tear tracks down my cheek when he comes closer and I hate myself in that moment for the tug of arousal that slices through me. It grows stronger when he brushes his nose over mine. The push and pull of arousal and fear is a juxtaposition of conflict that I can’t control.
“Please… don’t hurt me,” I whimper and the devilish smile that tilts the corners of his mouth sends a shiver of panic through me.
“Hurt you? Looked like you were getting ready to hand me my ass just now Lilly St. James.” He sneers. “Seemed like I haven’t really introed myself properly if you think you wouldn’t know me if not for your situation. You most assuredly, don’t fucking know me if you think for one fleeting second that you wouldn’t allow me to touch you if you didn’t need the money. We’ll see about that.”