He was at the bar, eyes glued to the television along with Donna, the cocktail waitress, and Justin, the gray-haired bartender who looked like he’d been a defensive lineman back in the day. I’d always wondered why he had a television at his bar. I mean who comes to a strip club to watch TV?
Donna looked up as I approached. “Honey, you need to see this. There’s some freaky shit going down.” She ran a hand through her bleach blond hair, knocking aside the felt Santa hat she was wearing.
I shook my head. “Tell me about it. I got a guy covered in black veins about to pass out in the VIP room.”
“What?” Max jerked his bald head up so fast his jowls shook.
“We might need to call an ambulance.” I waited for Max to make an obscene joke, but instead a panicked expression crossed his face.
“You said his veins were black?”
I nodded.
Donna let out a gasp. “The news reporter said to watch out for people with dark veins. Some folks are having bad reactions to the canine flu vaccine. They’re getting sick and…” she lowered her voice, “turning into cannibals.”
I gave her an incredulous look. “What?”
“See for yourself.” She waved at the television hanging above a tower of colorful liquor bottles.
On the screen a flustered news reporter was babbling. “Reports of violent behavior in some of the recently vaccinated are coming in from all across the country.”
The program cut to a clip of dazed-looking people in hospital gowns attacking a young man on the street. The jerky footage must’ve been taken on someone’s cell phone. Whoever was holding the phone kept repeating, “Holy shit,” over and over while the crowd literally tore the screaming man to pieces.
My stomach churned as I watched the deranged crowd gulp down handfuls of the man’s flesh. “That’s horrible. I can’t believe they showed that on television.”
Donna shook her head. “It’s not just happening here. It’s happening all over the world. They rushed the flu vaccine to market without doing the proper tests and now it’s turning people into monsters. Oh, God. And just an hour ago I was cursing the fact that they didn’t have the vaccine available for Gavin.” She let out a sob at the mention of her son who’d died of the flu earlier in the year.
“Don’t cry, muffin,” Max said in a gruff voice. He slung one beefy arm around Donna’s thin shoulder and gave me a hard look. “Get that sick guy out of here. Now.” He used his don’t-argue-with-me voice.
That tone hadn’t worked on me since I’d been ten. “But Max—”
He interrupted me. “I’ll call him a cab. You get him in it. We’re closing early tonight. Donna, go get Sly up. I’ll tell Mr. Diaz and his men that they need to leave.” He looked over at the dark-haired men in back and shuddered. “Let’s hope they don’t kill me,” he muttered under his breath as he headed over to their table.
I’d take the sick professor over throwing deadly gang members out of the club any day. As I turned to walk back to the VIP area, Donna called my name softly.
I spun around to see that the older woman wore an anxious expression on her face.
She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her short black skirt. “Honey, I’m sorry but Max and I won’t be able to make your Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Oh,” I said, trying not to let my disappointment show. You and everyone else. “That’s too bad.”
“We’re sorry to miss it, it’s just that with everything going on…” She waved weakly at the television set. “And it’s our first Christmas without Gavin.” Her voice hitched.
“I understand.” I reached over and hugged her. I missed that kid something fierce. Pushing the memory of the mischievous little boy out of my mind before I started tearing up too, I looked over at Justin. “You and Sam are still coming, right?”
The big guy shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart. Sam just wants to do a family thing this year.” He gave me an apologetic smile.
Family thing. Right. “Well, more turkey for me,” I said, hiding my misery with a smile. “Have a good night.”
Donna and Justin waved as I headed back toward the professor. My chest tightened. Bad enough that the anniversary of my mother’s death was Christmas Eve. Now I’d have to endure it alone.
The wail of country music faded as I moved past the stage and through the long, deserted hallway. I stopped at the closed velvet curtain to the room where I’d left the professor. A low moaning sound came from inside. “Dr. Sullivan?” I reached out to pull open the curtain and hesitated. I’d never realized how far from the main club this area was. What if the professor is sick like the people on TV? What if he attacks me?
2
Havana
A large hand clamped down on my shoulder.
A shriek lodged in my throat as I spun around and came face-to-face with two tall, muscular men.
The shorter man, if you could call a man over six feet short, offered me a dazzling, panty-dropping smile. “Sorry to startle you, love.”
The man’s sexy English accent paired with tousled blond hair and ocean-blue eyes had me returning his smile and flipping back my hair. “No harm, no foul. How can I help you?”
The other man stepped forward. His six-foot-four height put me at eye level with the black eye patch over his right eye. The patch combined with his five o’clock shadow and collar-length hair gave him a definite bad-boy vibe that made my blood hum.
“We’re here for you,” tall dark and handsome said in a deep voice.
Holy hotness. I’ll stay after hours for these guys. I licked my lips feeling my hormones wake for the first time in months. “If you want to step into a room—” I gestured to the open rooms down the hall “—I’ll be right there.”
Tall dark and handsome frowned. “You misunderstand. Havana, you need to come with us right now.”
The sound of my real name had me staring at the two men in shocked silence for half a second. “Do I know you?” Have I danced for them before? No. I'd definitely remember men this good-looking.
The clean-shaven blond, who looked like a GQ model, shook his head. He wore khakis and a blue polo shirt under his jacket, which matched the stunning hue of his eyes perfectly. “I’m Mason Wheeler and he’s Gabriel Perez.”
I looked over at the dark-haired man whose black clothing and golden complexion almost made me mistake him for one of the Calaveras. But there was no way I would’ve missed his eye patch and smoldering good looks among the gang members.
Why are they here for me? There was only one plausible explanation. “Are you guys cops?”
The two men exchanged a look.
Fucking A. And I didn’t think my night could get any worse. My stomach sank and my mind raced as I tried to think of a reason the cops would want to talk to me. “Is this about the Strip Club Killer?” My throat tightened as I remembered how close I’d come to joining his victims.
“No,” Gabriel said.
Okay. Then what? “Look, I pay my taxes.” Maybe I didn’t always report every tip, but enough.