Page 71 of Drawn Blue Lines

Flashing strobe lights flickered around the darkened nightclub, painting everything in shades of magenta and purple as the rhythmic beat of reggaeton vibrated the walls. Brody stood behind me scowling as I paid our cover fee, and I would’ve slapped him if it wouldn’t have drawn even more attention to us. He already stuck out like bright yellow caution tape. Causing a scene wouldn’t help the situation.

“If it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience, could you take that stick out of your ass?” I hissed, tucking a wad of pesos back into my purse. “People are staring.”

“We waited in line for over an hour.”

“Your point?”

His nostrils flared, shifting closer as more people filtered in. “I would’ve thought the owner’s fiancée would have expedited entry.”

I groaned. “Ex-fiancée, and are we still talking about this?”

“You tell me.” Clenching his fists, he crowded against me. “Up until an hour ago, I was under the impression we were going into this thing blind. As crazy as it sounds, I thought maybe we were on the same side, but you keep doing shit to prove my instincts were right about you.”

“And what instincts would that be?”

Crowd. Step. Crowd. Step.

To the casual onlooker, our habitual catch and release ballet seemed like a mating dance. In reality, it was a never-ending chase between stalker and prey. Only the roles weren’t defined and always reversed in the middle of the hunt.

“That you’re hiding something.” He tilted his head, and the scent of scotch and sage hit me so hard I stumbled. Without hesitation, he slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his chest and further toward the edge.

I felt myself weakening. Every time my head put an iron wall between us, my body reminded me it wasn’t the only one in control.

With one hand digging into my hip, Brody wrapped the other around the back of my neck, stroking his thumb up the length of my throat until it came to rest under my chin. “Maybe you’re being set up, but there’s something else going on.” He tilted my head back, forcing me to look up at him. “You can spin all the bullshit lies you want, Adriana. I’m going to find out what it is, and when I do, you’d better hope it doesn’t involve Val or his family or—”

“Or, what?” I challenged. “You’ll kill me?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t push me, Carrera. You won’t like what happens.”

“Don’t threaten me, Harcourt. You already know what happens.”

His face boiled with rage, and at that moment I had no idea if I wanted to watch him burn and dance in his ashes or stoke the fire and get licked by the flames. Twisting out of his hold, I glared at him before heading toward the bar, his mocking voice echoing in my ears.

“So, do you actually have a plan, or are you winging this whole thing?”

“Watch and learn, counselor.”

I assumed he followed behind me, but I didn’t particularly care. By the time I pushed my way through the throngs of people, my walls were firmly in place, and it was showtime. No fewer than four bartenders raced around filling drink orders, sweat pouring down their temples. Leaning over the bar, I put my assets on display while watching their movements. When I caught the one in the middle sneaking repeated glances at my chest as he wiped down the bar, I smiled.

Folding my arms over the chrome railing, I painted on a seductive smile and crooked a finger, beckoning him over. Ignoring the protests and raised hands, he made his way toward me.

“Busy night?” I purred in Spanish.

The bartender’s lips twisted. “Are you going to point out the obvious or order a drink?”

“That depends…” Narrowing my eyes, I peered at his nametag. “Tomás. What’s the most expensive scotch you have?”

Dropping the rag, he glanced behind him at the rows of liquor bottles spanning the length of the bar. “I think we have some Johnnie Walker Blue. You sure you can afford it, mami? It’s twelve hundred pesos a shot.”

I had no intention of paying for it, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Make it two.”

I didn’t have to wait long before he set two shot glasses and a bill in front of me. “Twenty -four hundred pesos.” I raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged. “I have rules against running tabs for Johnnie.”

I let out a heavy sigh. I’d hoped to coax the information out of him, but it was obvious he’d played this game before. He was good, but I was better.

“I’m the exception to your rule.”

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