“What?” The question came out as a squeak. My gaze wildly takes in the tiny room, the shabby furniture, the tattered, somber vibe of the whole house. And I’d brought Blue for some kind of one-night stand? The idea makes me flush hot with humiliation—and something else too.
“I think he was just trying to make sure you didn’t fall into a ditch. He had some words to say about me giving you pills.” She snorted. “Corrupting you. As if you’re some innocent little girl.”
I close my eyes, but they’re hot with tears. I’m just glad she isn’t here to see me, glad she can’t see the drops on my cheeks. My voice is hollow. “Far from it.”
“I told him you could take care of yourself.”
My gaze lands on the wallet. Yeah, real good job I’m doing taking care of myself. “I need to find him.”
“Blue? That good, huh?”
“Not like that. It’s because…I just need to see him, okay? Do you have any idea where he lives?”
“No…” She draws the word out in a singsong way. “But I do know where he’ll be tonight.”
“The club?”
“Of course not, silly. But I’ll take you to him.”
I want to demand she tells me where he’ll be, to find out what she knows, but I already know she’ll hold that secret like a goddamn lollipop—licking away at it all day long, dragging this out with perverse pleasure. But I don’t want to wait to give him the wallet longer than I have to. And neither do I want to risk handing it in at the club and Ivan finding out. If he got suspicious of me stealing from the customers, I’d be out on my ass.
“Fine,” I say, my head falling forward.
She’s silent a moment. “Lola, don’t you know why he’s not working tonight?”
“Time off for good behavior?”
“Oh, sweetie. You really don’t know. He’s not working tonight because you’re not. He’s only ever there when you are. The only reason he works at that club is to see you.”
I tighten my hands around the phone. My stomach twists, threatening to send me back to the bathroom. Because she’s wrong about one thing—I know he’s there for me. I’ve always known. That’s why I’m afraid.
* * *
From the outside it looks like a warehouse. No streetlamps are nearby. We glide through the night air like I imagine fish in dark water, unseeing, using our senses to feel for sharks. The only way I know it isn’t abandoned is the hum of noise. It’s too thick to separate into voices, too steady to be any kind of music. It’s the buzz of a hive—this one made of people.
There’s a single man standing outside a door at the side. Not much security for a place as big as this, even if they have more guys on the inside. But I don’t doubt he is holding down the door. His body looks as wide and as tall as the building itself, made of concrete and metal, his expression as cold.
“Can I help you ladies?” His tone makes it clear he’s saying the exact opposite—go the fuck away.
Candy smiles her megawatt smile that somehow lights up the space. Of course, it’s not hard to command attention in an empty freaking sidewalk. Clearly we are late, and I’m pretty sure Candy did that on purpose. She always likes to make an entrance.
“We heard there was a party,” she says. “I love parties.”
He looks bored, but I can tell he’s interested in her. All men are interested in her. “It’s a private party.”
She takes a step toward him. “That’s the best kind.”
There’s a pause where he could kick us to the curb. Something flickers in his eyes. Interest. Lust. A taste for danger. A man doesn’t get his nose bent like that because he likes to play it safe. No, this guy wants a piece of Candy in the back of a warehouse when he should be doing his job. It’s a rush, and he takes it.
“Don’t make trouble,” he tells me.
I don’t bother explaining that the girl voted most likely to cause trouble has her hands on his chest and her mouth on his neck. He wouldn’t have heard me anyway. He’s already dragging her into the shadows. Her giggle floats back to me, and I sigh, knowing I’ll owe her one.
And Candy doesn’t collect easy favors.
No one even looks my way as I open the door. They’re packed in like the club on a Saturday night, but it isn’t girls dancing onstage. No, those are men—big, brutish men with muscles bulging and skin glistening while they beat the shit out of each other.
Underground fighting.