Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

I won’t allow it and would kill to prevent it . . . if I have to.

A knock on the door interrupts my dark thoughts.

“Enter,” I say.

Logan’s head pops around the door, not even fully entering. “Pardon me, sir. Just informing you of departure. Proceeding as scheduled.”

I nod, and Logan closes the door behind him. I don’t bother glancing at the monitors, knowing that he’s got the situation handled. The situation being that Allie is done for the night and leaving the club. She’s the headliner, and after that dance, she doesn’t need to work again, especially after the long day she’s had.

Either way, Gavin will follow standard operations and escort her to her car like he will every dancer when they leave tonight. Allie is parked in the back lot, where Logan will be waiting to follow her home and invisibly guard her until my arrival.

Pete grins as the door closes, unaware of the message that was sent.

“Your guys always tell you when they’re headed home for the night? He tell you when he gets his dick wet too?”

He laughs, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling at his own joke, but I don’t laugh because it isn’t funny.

“He does whatever I tell him to. Simple as that, same as you,” I say, reminding him that though he may be a high-ranking captain with a territory of his own to maintain, he’s no better than any other man. “Now, give me the rest of your news.”

It’s not until hours later that I finally get to dismiss Logan and settle into my barebones apartment.

I neatly hang my jacket up in the front hall, untuck my shirt, and roll up my sleeves, sitting down with a nightcap of whisky.

I turn on the television, but it’s not some late-night rerun that grabs my attention. No, it’s the night-vision camera feed hidden in Allie’s bedroom. She may be only one floor away from this secret apartment, but I’d needed more. More insight, more closeness, more of her to feed my obsession.

I know on some level it’s wrong, intrusive, and a violation of her trust. At first, it had truly been for her safety. The threat back then was significant, and it was only with a bit of luck and the appearance of an unexpected ally that she never found out just how dangerous it was.

But she’s no longer in danger. I dealt with the fallout from the shooting at Petals months ago. It was only recently that I’ve been forced to admit to myself that my surveillance wasn’t for her.

It’s always been for me.

Chapter 3

Allie

“You want me to do what?” I screech in surprise, my eyes wide and my mouth hanging open.

Donna just smiles back, like she didn’t just set my world atilt. “Look, I didn’t know who she was either, but the publicity from your class is like a tidal wave that won’t be stopped. You’re seriously blowing up on Instagram and Facebook, and the studio’s getting lots of attention.”

I click my mouth closed and swallow.

When Eileen had said Donna wanted to talk to me today, it’d felt a little like getting called to the principal’s office and was sure I was going to get in trouble. I figured some parent had found out about the private class and riled everyone up. By the time I knocked on Donna’s door, I visualized parents pulling their kids from my classes in a mass-exodus of soccer mom hair flips and snarky comments. Maybe even a few I’mma pray for yous thrown in too.

What I didn’t expect was . . . whatever this is. Donna sits before me in her small but tidy office, the walls covered top to bottom with pictures of her with students from the last thirty years. She still looks like a regal ballerina, thin and fit from dancing, with a harshly crisp traditional bun that’s softened by the lines on her face that show how often she smiles.

“What do you mean? What attention?” I ask, scared of the answer. I can just see it now. Tonight on Action News at Six, Dance Studio or Strip Club?

“Allie?”

I blink, realizing Donna’s talking. “Sorry, again?”

“It seems the maid of honor for that party—”

“Jenny. The maid of honor’s name was Jenny.”

Donna nods, snickering. “Yeah, do you know who Jenny Wartham is?”

I shake my head, utterly confused. “The maid of honor?”

Donna sighs, as if she’d hoped I knew. Sorry, Donna, I’m sort of too busy to keep up with celebrities outside of mainline sports and the dance world.

“Well, yeah. But she’s also a bit of an internet celebrity, apparently. Now, I didn’t know that when I booked the class. But she wrote this whole long Instagram post about your class and the great time they had.”

My eyes shoot wide open in surprise. “She did?”