Half an hour later, I’m at the front of the line, and Bruno waves me forward.
“Hey, man, I’m sorry about your friend,” he says in his deep bass voice. “Eric was a great guy.”
“He was. Thanks, Bruno.”
The club’s interior is pumping, as usual, the darkness lit up by multi-colored disco balls suspended from the ceiling. The music is pounding, and the place is packed.
Heading to the bar, I work my way through the diverse crowd. Guys of every type, color, and creed are here, from young to old. Other than the paid dancers on raised pedestals, dressed in G-strings stuffed with cash, most everyone else is either standing around in small groups talking and drinking, or they’re on the dance floor, which is jam packed.
I stop at the bar to grab a beer and shoot the breeze with the staff. Three guys work behind the bar. Two of them are dressed in jeans and t-shirts. The third—Roy, the owner—is bare-chested and wearing a black leather harness and tight black jeans. Flashing strobe lights glint off the rings piercing his nipples.
Roy sees me and waves me over. “Ian!” When I take a seat at the bar, he reaches over to clasp my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m so sorry about Eric!” He has to yell to be heard over the music.
“Thanks!”
“What can I get you?” he says.
“Beer.”
Roy grabs a bottle out of the case, pops the top, and hands it to me. “It’s on the house.”
I take a swig. “Was Eric in here much lately?”
“Yeah.” He steps away to fill another customer’s drink order. When he returns, his expression is pensive. “I saw him in here a lot the past few weeks. Why?”
“Do you remember if he was here Friday night?”
Roy thinks for a moment, and then he nods. “Yeah, I think so.” He motions me closer, leaning over the bar so he can be heard over the din. “Is it true what I heard on the news? He was strangled with a garrotte?”
The reminder makes my stomach twist into a knot. I nod. “Did you see him talking to anyone in particular? Was he seeing anyone?”
Roy shrugs. “I didn’t notice anyone in particular. I saw him with a lot of guys, you know?” And then he’s pulled away again when more customers arrive at the bar.
I turn to face the crowd and sip my beer, watching the mix of familiar faces and new ones. A couple of friends come up to say ‘hi’ and invite me to join them on the dance floor, but I decline. A guy seated beside me at the bar offers to buy me a drink, but I decline the offer. I’m not looking to hook up. I’m here to see if I can find out anything about Eric. I owe it to him.
An hour and two beers later, after having talked to at least a dozen people, I have nothing to show for my efforts. I think my best bet will be to let folks know I’m asking around. Maybe that will lead to something.
While I’m waiting to get Roy’s attention, so I can settle up my bar bill, a strong hand grips the back of my neck. I glance back, expecting to see one of my friends, but no. I’m staring into a pair of angry blue-green eyes. He’s clearly pissed, his jaws clenched tightly. His nostrils are flaring.
I’m so happy to see him, I can’t hide my smile. “Hello, detective! Fancy meeting you—”
“What in the hell are you doing here?” he growls through gritted teeth. “You’re supposed to be at home! Did you sneak out?”
My smile widens because, God, he’s hot when he’s pissed. I’d do it again in a heartbeat just to feel all this intensity. “I’m here for the same reason you are! I thought I’d ask around, see what I can find out.”
He shakes his head and points toward the exit. “You’re leaving—now!”
I reach into my pocket and pull out some cash, which I toss onto the bar. “Roy!” When he looks my way, I point at the cash. “Gotta go!”
And then, I swear to God, Tyler marches me out of the club, his hand gripping the back of my neck as curious eyes follow us to the door.
The cool night air feels good on my hot face. And it’s nice not to have to scream to be heard.
Tyler steers me to the right. “This way.” He walks me to a black BMW parked just a couple blocks away, opens the front passenger door, and motions for me to get in. When I do, he shuts my door before walking around to the driver’s side.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he says as he slides behind the wheel. He’s staring straight ahead, his body rigid. His hands fist the steering wheel.
“This was one of Eric’s regular hang-outs. I wanted to find out if he was here the night he was—you know.”
“Murdered?” Tyler turns to glare at me. “And was he?”
“Yeah. I talked to the owner, Roy, who said Eric had been coming there a lot recently. He was pretty sure Eric was there Friday night.”
Tyler’s thumbs brush the leather steering wheel, and he sighs. “Ian, you shouldn’t have come here tonight. You shouldn’t be out at all right now. It’s not safe.”
I turn in my seat to face him. “Eric was my friend. I owe him.”
He turns the key in the ignition, and the engine roars to life. “Buckle your seatbelt. I’m taking you home.”
I feel a thrill at his words, even though he didn’t mean them the way they sounded. God, I wish.
After he pulls out into traffic, he spares me a quick glance. “How did you manage to leave your townhouse undetected?”
I laugh. “That’s my secret. If I tell you, it’ll never work again.”
He glares at me, clearly not amused. “This isn’t funny, Ian. The police protection is for your own good.”
I smile. “You called me Ian.”
“Quit smiling,” he says, again not amused.
“Sorry.” But I can’t help it. I love it when he’s bossy. I’ll bet he’s domineering in bed. Just the thought raises my body temperature. “How did you find me?”
“I was making my rounds to all the clubs you listed, talking to the owners and the staff. When I arrived at this club, I spotted you at the bar.”
He doesn’t say another word on the drive to my house. When we arrive, he pulls into the driveway and parks behind the police cruiser. The officer on duty does a double-take when we walk past his vehicle up to the front door.
Tyler follows me inside, shutting the door behind us. Hard. He’s still pissed. He runs his fingers through his dark hair. “Look, kid.”
I laugh as I switch on the lights. “Kid? Fuck, Tyler, I’m twenty-eight. I’m not a kid.”
“You might as well be a kid, especially when you act like one. You had no business sneaking out to Diablo’s tonight.”
He’s dressed as I’ve always seen him, in a black suit and tie. I wonder if he’s always so polished and professional. I’d give anything to see him let his hair down.
I walk right up to him, standing nose to nose, and he takes a step back, coming up against the door. I catch a flash of something in his eyes. Was that panic? Holy fuck.
His nostrils flare as he sucks in a breath. His eyes are locked on mine, and he’s staring at me like I’m something he doesn’t quite understand. His eyes glitter beneath the lights of the chandelier, like sunlight dancing on water.