Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

THERON

Victor moves through the club, making his way to the hallway, then turns and continues. I watch as he walks toward the end, and I think he’s gone to a dead end, which makes me feel completely uneasy. But when he turns sharply, opens a door, and then vanishes, I find myself intrigued.

Asher lifts his hand, motioning for me to follow behind him. I can’t help but wonder why Charlie didn’t join us on this trip, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I quietly follow both of these assholes and hope that my communications with Hale stay connected as we walk down the staircase and make our way to a basement.

I looked at the plans for this building when I drew up the contract for the surveillance estimate and confirmation. Nothing ever mentioned a basement. Which means this is where they’re conducting their business .

Nobody even knows this fucking place exists. Which is the perfect way to run an illegal human trafficking ring, or whatever it is these assholes are doing. There is another door, and Victor opens that one and waltzes through there as well.

Asher follows, and in turn, so do I. This whole thing is currently against my better judgment, but I’m not going to fight it. There’s no sense in it. So I follow behind and hope that I make it out of all of this alive.

At this point, I’m not sure if I will.

When I walk through the door, Victor and Asher are standing in the middle of an empty room. Glancing around quickly, I realize that we’re alone. Just the three of us. I don’t know what is happening here, but I also don’t ask.

“Asher says you can be trusted,” Victor says, finally speaking for the first time this evening.

I don’t know why Asher thinks I can be trusted. I clearly cannot. And when it comes to what I am fairly certain they are doing, I will never be trusted. Not when it comes to that shit.

But I don’t tell Victor any of that because I want to keep my fucking head tonight. Instead, I jerk my chin toward him slightly. He smiles, and his lips curve up slowly. I recognize that evil smile. I don’t remember when or how, but I do, and that is downright terrifying.

“The things that happen here, they should never be repeated. You will be recorded as insurance.”

Interesting. “Recorded?” I turn my attention to Asher. He winces, then nods once.

Recorded, but it wasn’t my company who put the equipment here because Merrick would have said something. He would have made this part of the building very clear before we did anything.

“We have a different system down here. A little more simplistic and old school than what we have upstairs,” he says.

That is the only explanation I receive. I also don’t ask any details, mostly because I don’t give a fuck. If it were up to me, all of this would have already been burned to the ground. But since I can’t pop off and do whatever the fuck I want, I decide to just… smile.

“Understandable,” I murmur when it’s clear they expect a response from me.

Victor and Asher share a glance, but I could give a fuck if they think I’m one of them or not. I know I am, without a doubt, not. Thankfully, they don’t ask me for details of any kind. Instead, I watch as Victor walks toward another door. This one, like the others, is painted the same color as a wall in an attempt to hide it.

I suck in a breath, holding it as two men walk from the doorway and then ten girls. If they are women, they are only just women and possibly eighteen years old. This, I did not expect. They’re all wearing bikinis.

My eyes widen as I flick my attention to Asher. He jerks his chin, then lifts his hand and motions for me to follow behind him… through that door. It’s the last place I want to go, but when I dip my head and walk through the door and into the next room, my whole body stills.

I shift my gaze around the space. It is not what I expected. It is not women or even men up on the auction block, which is what I half expect. Instead, there is nobody in the room, just tables with scales, plastic baggies, and pills that look like candy.

They’re fucking packing up drugs here. Turning my head slowly, I look over to Asher. He smirks. “What did you think was going on here?” he asks.

“I honestly had no idea,” I lie.

I know exactly what I thought this shit was, but it was not this. I walk over to one of the tables and feign interest in the product. “The girls out there package?” I ask.

Victor hums. “They’re employees,” he murmurs.

“Employees who will do anything,” Asher says, his insinuations fucking disgusting.

Turning to face the men, I tilt my head to the side. My gaze searches theirs. I wait for them to say something, anything, but they instead stare at me. Pressing my lips together, I try to think of something to ask that doesn’t sound too… interrogating.

Because right now, that’s exactly what I want to do—interrogate some motherfuckers—and I want to know where Ravet is. His name was mentioned. He was supposed to be here, but he wasn’t.

He isn’t fucking here.

I want him dead.

“So you’re selling it in the club?” I ask.

“Along with many other places,” Victor murmurs.

“And you need me?” I ask.

It’s Asher who moves forward, his gaze focused on mine. “We need security set up for this and some other events.”

Events.

That sounds ominous.

And it is.

Because it’s the darker side of things.

“We have some transports happening. You won’t have to do any heavy lifting. We just want to ensure that the product is safe as it travels to its drop-off point.”

The product.

Fuck.

LUCILLE

My high heels are too loud as they click around the room. I’m not sure who is watching me or what is happening. I’m also feeling sick to my stomach. Like I am, without a doubt, in the wrong place.

Slowly, my feet begin to move, and I back up until I hit the door. Reaching for the handle, I tug it open, making sure to keep an eye on the room.

I take a step up and then another backward, then wait until I am able to close the door, and when I do, I turn around and hurry up the rest of the staircase until I reach the second door, and I throw it open before I stumble forward.

Thankfully, the hallway is empty, but I can’t shake the bad vibes that room gave me. Something is happening down there, and I’m too chicken to find out myself. I could stay around and try to, but that sounds scary and almost menacing.

I’m done with this.

The way that room made me feel, I don’t want to know anything else. My mission, as fruitless as it all was, is over. As much as I want to continue to play games with Emmie, I’m not sure I can win against this, whatever this darkness is.

Instead of going back to the group and being mauled by Charlie, I sneak out of the club. Walking toward my car, I’m cursing myself that I had to park so far away. It’s too late at night to walk two blocks.

My heels click, bouncing off the sidewalk as I walk—one step, then another, and another. I hold my breath the whole time and only let out an exhaled sigh of relief when I reach the driver’s door of my car.

Tugging it open, I sink inside and lock it again before I start the engine. It doesn’t take me long to drive back to my apartment. I really hate myself for tonight. I should not have done any of this.

It was stupid. Granted, I still want Theron, and I don’t want anyone to have him, especially not Emmie, but I don’t think I have a choice anymore. After a glass of water and a shower, I’m slipping into bed when my phone buzzes next to me.

It’s a text message.

THERON: WHERE ARE YOU?

I think about answering him with some smart-assed remark, but I decide against it. I’m too emotionally drained from my defeat for that. And that is exactly what this is for me—a defeat.

Home.

THERON: ALONE?

Narrowing my gaze at his question, I think about telling him that it’s none of his business. Except I want it to be that, exactly that, his business. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I slide my teeth from side to side a few times while I attempt to come up with a response. In the end, I do what I always seem to do, and I answer him truthfully.

Yes.

THERON: STAY THAT WAY.

Why?

I stare at the phone, but those three little dots don’t appear, and I wonder if he’s even going to answer me. When he does, I am taken off guard. His text message completely floors me. I thought for sure that he would be spending time with his girlfriend.

THERON: I AM COMING OVER. SOON. I’LL LET MYSELF IN.

I let out a snort. I’m not surprised that he says he’ll let himself in. I don’t even know how he did it last time. I need to ask him how the hell he got into my apartment and let himself out.

See you soon.

He doesn’t respond to that. I sit in bed, my head resting against the headboard as I wait for him. Since I can’t sleep, I am a glutton for punishment, so I reach for my phone and find Emmie’s name.

I want to see where she is and what she’s doing right now. Is she crying because Theron broke up with her? Is she getting even and dancing with other men? What exactly is happening here?

But when I click on her name, she’s got a ton of pictures and videos posted tonight. And not in a single one of them does she look sad. In fact, she appears to be the exact opposite of sad. She looks beaming and happy.

Then there are pictures from earlier in the evening where she’s hanging all over Theron. I hate those. I almost comment something mean on her pictures of them together, but I decide against it.

Instead, I close the app and set my phone on my nightstand. I pick up the television remote and find something to watch as I settle down in my bed. I tug the covers up to my chin slowly, my eyes flutter closed, and I fall asleep.