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Chapter 12

12

Gage

Standing a few feet away from the stage and chairs, just far enough away to talk without disturbing the auction, I stare at Margot in surprise. “Did you say there’s a police detective who wants to talk to me?”

“Two of them.”

“Did you tell them I’m busy?”

“Yes, Gage.” She gives me an impatient look. “But if you don’t come talk to them, they’re going to come inside and drag you out. And there are few things we’d like less than police officers seeing what Low Vice is doing tonight. Or any night. Legal or not, we don’t want the club on their radar.”

I know this, and I agree with her. But Leah is bound to be terrified and confused up on that stage.

“Jannik. Let’s move.” Margot looks exasperated.

Leah’s staring at me, her eyes wide and frightened. I have to go. I hate this.

She can step out of the auction any time she wants, though. She’ll remember that.

And if she doesn’t—if she chooses to go with someone else—that’s all right with me. I won’t be angry. I will be jealous, but that will be my own problem. This complication couldn’t have been predicted.

I follow Margot to the exit leading toward the dance club.

Dmitri is standing at the table where new members and guests sign in. He’s a six-foot-two solution to my current problem.

“What the fuck?” He points at the stage. “She’s up there and you aren’t bidding?”

“I don’t have a choice.” I clench my fists and take a deep breath. “You know what I want. Get over there.”

“Are you asking me to do what I think you’re asking me to do?”

“Yes. No limit. Win our girl.”

* * *

Leah

“Fifteen thousand,” Betty says into the mic.

Fuckboy is still bidding, and now that Gage is gone, he’s smiling as if he already has this won.

And he’s hot, no denying that. If I weren’t already with Gage, I would be interested.

But I am with Gage, and fucking someone else was not part of this night’s plan.

Maybe I should leave. No, there’s no maybe about this. I stepped out here expecting Gage to bid on me, and win. I take a step toward Betty.

She pulls her phone from her pocket and looks at the screen. Sidling over to me, she says, “Gage has requested that you stay put.”

Stay put? He wants me to stay here and he isn’t even in the audience.

My heart flutters with panic. Does he want me to go with Fuckboy? Dmitri said that Gage likes games. Is this one of them?

I don’t think he’d play a game like this. Not without talking to me first. He was absolutely sincere when he told me he would be winning me tonight.

He is an actor. He can fake sincerity . The insidious voice sends darkness and doubts through my mind.

“Please turn around slowly for the bidders,” Betty says.

The dangling ends of the belly chain sway against my skin as I turn.

When I face the audience once more, someone new hurries over and takes a seat in Gage’s abandoned chair.

Dmitri.

My blood whooshes in my ears, accompanied by the loud thud-thud-thud of my heart.

Dmitri bids. There are additional bids, but Dmitri’s offer keeps going up. The other bidders slowly drop out of the running.

“Twenty-five thousand,” Betty says.

Fuckboy, one of the last hold-outs, raises his card. So does Dmitri.

Where is he getting the money? I should be concerned. But wherever he’s getting it, I’m relieved it’s him and not some stranger.

“Twenty-eight,” Betty says.

Dmitri keeps his card up. Fuckboy hesitates, then raises his as well.

Betty puts her hand on her hip. “Thirty?”

Frowning, Fuckboy lowers his card. Dmitri keeps his raised.

My heart thuds even louder in relief.

“Bidding is now closed.” Betty gestures to me. “Miss L has been won by Dmitri M for thirty thousand dollars.”

* * *

Gage

The two detectives, a man and woman, are waiting in the hall. Standing next to them is our bouncer, Paxton. His job is to keep the area clear of any Vice clubbers who may wander back here by accident or design.

The female detective steps forward as I approach with Margot. Her black hair is tied in a tight bun, and the strong set of her jaw hints that she is tenacious about her cases. “Mr. Hawthorne?”

“It’s Mr. Jannik now.”

“Mr. Jannik. I’m Detective Vazquez. This is Detective Li. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

“By all means,” I say.

“Do you have an office where we could speak privately?” Detective Li asks. He has a round face, but the shrewdness in his dark brown eyes says he’s no less tenacious than his partner.

“I’d rather talk here.”

I turn to Margot and Paxton, but Margot’s already on it.

“Paxton, let’s wait over here.” She gestures toward the end of the hall.

Once they’re out of earshot, I say to the detectives, “What can I help you with?”

“We’re wondering how long you were in Los Angeles last Saturday, the tenth?”

“Only for the day. I drove home after Javier Nori’s funeral. May I ask why you want to know?”

“Todd Evanston was seriously injured in a hit-and-run accident.”

I blink several times, trying to understand.

Claudia said some guy tried to run her over. Javier was killed in a hit-and-run. At the time, I’d believed it to be a coincidence. But Todd was run down, as well?

This is not a coincidence.

“Is he going to be all right?”

“He’s in critical condition. That’s all I’m at liberty to divulge,” Detective Vazquez says. “Did you return to San Esteban immediately after Javier Nori’s funeral?”

“No. I met with several of my former castmates at a bar. I’m sure they can attest to that.” It had been a full two hours of unpleasant conversation. Javi was exalted as a saint. Nic cried at several points, which led Claudia to tears as well. Todd and Nic both encouraged Claudia to drink. I had to play the part of a stern parent to keep her from overindulging.

Li’s gaze is steady on me. “And after the bar?”

“I returned Claudia to her home in Hollywood Hills, and then I drove back to San Esteban.”

“No stops along the way?”

“I stopped for gas.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” I am losing patience with this line of questioning. “Am I under arrest?”

Vazquez doesn’t answer my question. “Where were you on Sunday, March fourth?”

That’s the day Javi was killed. “At home, probably. I rarely go anywhere.”

Vazquez continues, “How many automobiles do you own, Mr. Jannik?”

“One.”

“And where is it?”

“It’s parked behind the club. You’re welcome to walk past it after you leave here. And I hope you will be leaving soon, as I have business to attend to.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see that Betty has sent me a two-word text. Room One .

I face the detectives. “If I’m not under arrest, I would like to return to my evening. If you need to get in touch with me again, here is my card.”

I make a mental note to contact my attorney tomorrow. She’ll want to know about this, even if nothing comes of it. She’ll be furious I answered questions without her, but cooperation seems the quickest way to get rid of the detectives. I need to return to Leah.

Vazquez looks as if she’s tasted something sour, but she accepts my card with a nod. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Jannik.”

I start to move away, but then stop. “Have you spoken with Harvey Billings?”

Now it’s the detectives’ turn to blink in surprise. Li frowns. “The director?”

“Yes.” I offer him a grim smile. “If anyone would want revenge on our cohort, it’s him.”

Vazquez says, “Mr. Jannik?—”

“Goodnight, Detectives.”

I turn on my heel and stride down the hall. Margot accompanies me back into Low Vice. Paxton will make sure the detectives find their way out of the club.

“What kind of trouble are you in, Gage?” Margot asks. “Can I help?”

“No trouble.” I give her a grateful smile. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“We’re friends. The offer’s always there.” After squeezing my arm, she hurries past the crowded auction area and toward the hall.

I follow her, pausing when I see that Seth Colton is still in the audience. He grins and says, “It wasn’t for lack of trying, you rich son of a bitch.”

“You should’ve known I wouldn’t give up.”

He shrugs. “Worth a try. Maybe you’ll let me watch again sometime.”

I’m not against the idea, but it would be entirely up to Leah.

Leah, who is waiting in Room One.

Leaving the audience area, I move down the narrow hallway until I find the door. Knocking once, I open it and step inside.

Leah and Dmitri are standing on opposite ends of the room. Leah has on one of the club’s black silk robes. She holds it closed.

Dmitri moves toward me, toward the door. He holds out the collar that matches Leah’s belly chain. “Thirty K. She’s all yours.”

“Stay.” I keep my voice soft so he can interpret that as a command, or a request. I’m not sure which approach would work better with him at the moment. He’s very obviously a Dom by the way he carries himself and his general attitude. But when it comes to Leah, he’s willing to sacrifice some of his dominant tendencies.

Dmitri stands at his full height, but he stops moving toward the door. “What the fuck do you want, Gage?”

“Here is what will happen.” I look between the two of them. It strikes me, then, how perfect they are for each other. Their undeclared feelings stretch between them like a chasm. Longing, yearning.

I could step away and let them be together. I could let him love her like he wants to, if he can stop getting in his own way. And I could let her love him like she does already.

But I can’t leave Leah. I want to love her, too.

My phone buzzes with a text. I’m tempted to ignore it, but it buzzes a second time. I check in case it’s Betty having trouble with the auction. After all, I did just rob the club of one of its bouncers.

The text isn’t from Betty, though—it’s from Ryder Callihan at Ironwood.

Results are in from Tagger data. Serial number mostly scratched off. 26 possible numbers associated. Here are names associated with the numbers.

What follows is a list.

And the name at the top of that list?

Dmitri Montrose.

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