“Here to see Damon again?” she yells over the music.
“Not today. Just pour me a whiskey.”
“Whiskey coming right up,” she chirps, way to happily for my taste. It’s almost like she enjoys working here. Who the fuck likes working in a strip club?
A few moments later, I have a large glass of amber liquid shoved in front of me. I murmur a thanks before I grab the glass and bring it to my libs. Taking a huge gulp, I let the alcohol burn down my throat, enjoying the way the warmth spreads out through my insides when it settles in my stomach.
My vision is already blurry as I look around. My gaze catches on two men on the other side of the bar. They’re watching one of the strippers doing her dance routine on stage with hungry eyes. A little bit too hungry for an innocent show like this.
When the song is over, and the girl walks off the stage after collecting her money off the ground, the two guys look like they’re about to jump her. She gives them a smile as she walks by, and that seems to be enough of an invite for them to grab her and pull her between them.
Even with the music blaring over the speakers loudly, I can hear her squeal in surprise, followed by her asking them to let her go. Her resistance doesn’t seem to bother either of the guys, since they just move in closer, caging her in between their bodies.
Slamming my glass against the countertop, I get off my seat and walk around the L-shaped bar quickly. Grabbing the first guy by the back of the neck, I pull him off the girl. He tries to twist in my hold while swinging at me, but I’ve already got my arm around his neck, holding him in a chokehold.
Before I can get this guy unconscious, his friend grabs the bar stool and lifts it in the air, swinging it at my head. Normally, I could have seen that move coming from a mile away, but in my current state, everything is fucked up.
I’m fucked up…
The hardwood lands with a crack against the side of my head that’s so hard, I’m surprised I don’t black out right then. I do, however, see stars. Releasing the guy, I stumble back and try to gather my bearings, but before I can do that, I’m being hit again, this time a meaty fist cuts across my face.
A woman’s scream pierces my ears as fists of fury rain down on me, clobbering every inch of my face. Pain is a welcomed feeling though. It blends with the pain that Dove caused me. I’m so gone now, I don’t think I could even bring my arms up to protect my face even if I wanted to. All I can do now is exist at this moment, and let the pain rule my life. The light inside my head flickers in and out, and I know it’s coming.
One more punch and the light goes out.
Darkness surrounds me, but I welcome it.
Only in my dreams can I be beside Dove again.
When I come to it feels like I’ve been hit by a truck before sliding down the side of a mountain face first. My face is throbbing so much so, I swear I can feel my heartbeat in the side of my head.
What the fuck happened?
The memories flicker through my mind like an old movie reel with some scenes missing, the film ripped apart. Dove… drinking… the bar… a fight. Either, I drank way more than I thought, or I got hit in the head pretty hard. On second thought, I’m sure it’s a combination of those two.
I pry my eyes open slowly, immediately thankful that there is not much light in this room. Blinking, I try to make sense of where I am. The room is bare, brick walls surround me, and it doesn’t take long for me to realize I’m in a cell.
Fucking hell.
Sitting up, I’m forced to close my eyes yet again, as the entire room starts spinning. When I open my eyes this time, I see the iron bars, confirming that, indeed, I’m in a cell. There is nothing inside but a cot that is creaking beneath me with every move.
I look around the cell, scanning every inch before I get up. The only thing I find is a water bottle sitting next to my cot. I grab it, unscrew the cap and start drinking. My parched mouth welcomes the cool water. I don’t stop until the entire bottle is gone. Still, I feel more thirst. Damn, I’m dehydrated. Of course, that’s the least of my worries right now.
My first thought is Christian found me, but he would have probably killed me right away. Castro is my second thought, but why would he want me locked up? No, both of them would have either killed me right away, or I would have woken up to being tortured.
I push myself up to stand on unsteady feet. Swaying slightly, I walk to the iron bars so I can look up and down the hallway. At the far end, I see a man posted. As soon as he catches sight of me, he turns and starts to walk away from me.
“Hey, asshole!” I yell after him. Instead of getting a reaction out of him, I make my ears hurt. The sound echoes through the hallway, only intensifying my headache. Ugh.
Walking back to my cot, I sit down and try to gather my thoughts. Where the fuck am I, and how did I get here? Most importantly, how the hell will I get out of here?
A few minutes later, I hear someone approaching. Getting myself ready for a fight, I get up on my feet and let my hands form fists beside me. Every muscle in my body is tense when I see none other than Xander Rossi appear on the other side of the cell door.
“Good morning, Zane. Sobered up enough to behave?”
I’m so shocked at seeing him, that I’m speechless, but I’m even more shocked when he reaches in his pocket and fishes out a key to unlock the cell door. The door swings open, and he takes a step to the side, motioning for me to come out.
“Is this a joke?” I say, my voice raspy like I smoked a pack of cigarettes last night.
“Not at all. Let’s go, we have a lot to discuss.”
Hesitantly, I walk past him while anticipating an attack any moment now. He has to be joking. What could he possibly want with me? If he thinks I have some dirt on Christian or Matteo, he’s going to be wildly disappointed.
He makes me walk ahead of him, down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. When we get to a second hallway, and I don’t know which way to turn, he takes the lead and lets me walk behind him. I don’t miss that huge display of trust, him turning his back on me like that. He’s showing me that he trusts me, probably expecting me to trust him in return. The question is, why?
I’m shocked yet again when we turn the corner and go through another door. Looking around confused, I wonder if I’m still sleeping, and this is a dream because now I’m standing in a foyer of a mansion… I assume the Rossi mansion.
“Why am I here?”
“Let’s go sit down. I had my cook prepare some breakfast for you. I’ll explain everything while you eat.”
He leads me through the house and into a huge dining room. As he said, an array of breakfast food is spread out on the table. Part of me wants to refuse the food. I still don’t trust him, I have no reason to, but given my current state, sustenance will greatly benefit me.
We both take a seat. Xander pours himself a coffee, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee invades my senses. He pours me a cup as well, without asking if I even want one.
“Talk,” I order while taking up a fork and start eating the omelet in front of me.
I glance over at Xander, who is raising an eyebrow at me, clearly surprised by my lack of fear of him. After a moment, he starts talking anyway.
“As soon as I saw Dove, I couldn’t believe the resemblance she had to someone I know. I figured they had to be related in some way. I started digging when she was here, but I hit one dead end after the next. After I let Dove go, I kept looking. There was something about her that I was missing, and I couldn’t let it go.”