Chapter 6

Bennett

By some small miracle, I fell asleep and made it all the way through until sunrise. Once awake, I grabbed some in-room coffee and hurried to get dressed. Now that Richie and I had officially met, I wasn't going to risk following him around all day—but I had a few other people to check on before the meeting at the club.

When ten p.m. rolled around, I stood in front of Parkston's On the Hill with renewed confidence. I had rolled up in a rented cargo van packed with a nice assortment of guns and other toys. Jake, Richie's main thug, had been at his house all day, which likely meant he'd been relieved of his duty to the Sanderson group. Richie was hooked; now, it was up to me to go in and close the deal.

I was dressed in a dark grey suit, a black shirt, silver tie, and a pair of aviator shades, even though night had fallen hours ago. I had to play the part to the last detail. Luckily, I'd spent months studying the role and had everything in place. All I had to do was give the pitch, pull the trigger, and wait.

Easy as pie.

Right?

Inside, I melted into the crowd with ease. I knew what to expect this time, so blending in wasn't a problem. I took the same path as I did the night before, but this time, my steps were looser, more relaxed, and I let myself enjoy the sights a little more than the previous night. The dance floor was just as rowdy, and I smiled at the bevy of beauties shaking their asses and showing off for the live band that was playing tonight. These California chicks were hot as fuck, to say the least.

I hadn't heard of the band before, but either they were really good, or the people on the floor were really wasted ‘cause they were acting like it was the Grammy's or some equally demoralizing shit. I chuckled to myself and continued over to the bar. Maybe that hot bartender would be on duty, and I could sweet-talk her into giving me her number. I wouldn't mind getting a piece of her after the meeting was over.

The band announced they were taking a break, and everyone raced off the dance floor and made a beeline over to the bar. I frowned at the swarm and hung back a few paces. I leaned up against a smooth column and waited it out, glancing around to see if I could spot Richie or any of his men. The meeting wasn't set to take place for another half hour but knowing Richie—he was already here somewhere.

Probably off getting another blowjob.

I rolled my eyes at the thought. What the hell had all that been about anyway? If he was trying to swing his dick, I wasn't impressed.

It didn't matter. Soon enough, I'd have what I came for, and Dalton wouldn't be my problem anymore.

A handful of minutes later the band kicked back up. People threw back their drinks and headed back to the floor. I headed toward the bar, weaving in and around the opposing traffic, only to stop short, a good fifty feet from the bar.

There, on the other side of the bar, was the face I'd been dreaming about every night for a fuckin' year.

Tori Barnes.

She laughed with her co-worker, the busty girl who'd served Richie and me the night before. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and said something that made the other girl laugh loudly. My eyes traced the lines of her full lips, thinking of how many times I'd kissed them. I followed them down to the neckline of her slinky black dress, and I was overwhelmed with the urge to punch the column I'd been leaning against. I'd break my hand if I tried, but I didn't care.

This couldn't be happening. Tori couldn't be here. A sex club. In Hollywood? Tori's blue eyes shifted my way, and I sank back next to the pillar. Thank the stars above, she didn't recognize me. Must've been the long hair and beard. Hell, I barely recognized me, and she hadn't seen me in a long time. No way she'd know it was me.

But she hadn't changed—not at all. She was still the same hot-ass chick that stole my heart. The only woman who could bring me to my knees and make me like it.

Tori.

What the fuck is she doing here?

My legs were as solid and stiff as the cement pillar. Unmoving. Frozen in place right there in the middle of the club.

Tori turned to her co-worker and mumbled something. With her eyes directed away, I was able to move and ambled over to the bar like a pathetic moth to a flame. I should have walked away—pretended I hadn't seen her—that she wasn't there. But I couldn't. I was glued to her like a bad deal gone wrong—a catastrophic event people were drawn to out of morbid curiosity.

So, I just sat there.

And watched.

She laughed out loud with the other bartender and then reached for a bar towel. She proceeded to wipe the bar top, coming within a fraction of my fingertips.

"Hi. Can I get you anything to drink?" Damn! Hearing her voice was so bittersweet. And that smile.

"—I'm back, girl! I'll take care of it!" called out the other girl, wiping her hands with sanitizer. She must have just come back from a break.

Tori smiled and nodded her head toward the girl. Then, in her smooth, sultry voice, she said, "She's back, cowboy. I'll let her take care of you."

Did she just call me cowboy? The muscles in my jaw twitched and flexed like I was chewing on an entire pack of gum. I needed to find out what was happening—what she was doing here. But tonight wasn't the night.

Shit was about to go down, and I didn't need her caught up in it.

Fuck.

I put on my best non-southern accent and said, "Thank you." Tori did a double-take, but I swiftly turned the barstool toward the crowd, so she couldn't see my eyes. I heard her walk off and then turned back to Busty Bartender.

"Bourbon, please."

She smiled and put down a half-full tumbler. "That's what I thought."

"Well, you thought right, sweet cheeks," I said, throwing back the liquid gold in one drink and then pushing off the bar.

"Leaving so soon?" She arched a thick brow at me.

I chuckled. I really wished none of this was happening. She looked like a lot of fun. But I had to get away before Tori came back—I also had an important meeting. "Yes, ma'am. Duty calls."

"Well, it was nice to see you again."

"You, too."

I set my jaw and turned away, scanning the room for Tori. I hoped I didn't see her again before the meeting took place. What if she recognized me? What would I say?

My focus was off, my mind spinning with what would happen if she walked up to me now. I couldn't let that happen.

Damn it.

A glance at my watch sent my blood pressure to new heights. I had five minutes before the meeting. I couldn't be late. That would blow my chances before I even opened my mouth.

I pushed through the thick crowd, taking slow, deliberate breaths to get my composure. I followed the path that Richie had led me down the night before and made my way to his private suite. Richie had mentioned he and his crew occupied the same room most nights—courtesy of the owners. I paused outside the door and took a moment, trying to rein in my frantic heartbeat. I prayed to God Tori wasn't behind the closed doors.

"Damn it." I shook my shoulders, my arms flailing loose at my sides. My focus was gone. Confidence drained. Months of planning were on the line. Hell, my life was on the line. And it was all feeling a lot riskier now, knowing that Tori was here.

Of all the places in the world…why here? Why tonight?

They were unanswerable questions. The more I turned them over in my mind, the more insane I became.

I adjusted my suit jacket and then pushed into the private room. The red-tinge was turned off tonight. The lights were low but more like the rest of the club. Apparently, this is what it looked like for real business. I was immediately greeted by a hulking security guard who stepped in front of me. I didn't recognize him and figured he must be one of Richie's henchmen.

"He's with me," Richie called from across the room.

The guard gave me a once-over but then stepped out of my way.

Richie was sitting in the same place he'd occupied the night before, a cigar in his hand. Across from him a new guy I'd never seen. Dark suit, black-rimmed glasses, and a hell of a lot of suspicions.

It didn't feel right—I didn't feel right.

Richie chuckled as I strode across the room. "What's the matter with you, Starr? You look like you just saw a fuckin' ghost."