Page 88 of Blood Sport

She smiles and pats my shoulder. “Well, you always know where to find me if you do. And I hope everything goes well with Evie. She’s a lucky girl.”

I roll my eyes when she winks at me and watch as she walks away to another table of men nearby, putting on her award-winning smile.

“What was that all about?” Preston asks. The dancer he was with before has now left. “How do you know her?”

“She’s an old friend,” I say, not wanting to elaborate.

Turning to my right, I see a busty woman walking by wearing black lacy lingerie. She smiles at me when we make eye contact, and I wave her over. She happily walks over to the table. When she’s closer enough, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and lock eyes with her. “You’re going to take my friend here for a dance, okay?” I push the words into her mind, watching as her blue eyes glaze over for a split second before they return to normal.

The woman nods with a smile and walks over to Preston, holding out her hand. “Care for a dance?”

Preston frowns and looks over at me. “What the hell—”

“Take the dance,” I urge, and lean back in my seat. “In fact, all of you should go for a dance.”

“But what about you?” Cain asks as he stands to his feet. The dancer who was grinding on his lap earlier eagerly wraps her arms around his waist, batting her long lashes at him.

“I want to be alone.”

Preston and Cain waste no time and hurry away to the private room with their girls. Ethan lingers with his, watching me carefully.

When I meet his eyes, I point to the dancer on his lap. “Remember, you can look but you can’t touch.”

Ethan chuckles. “Don’t worry, my girl knows what I’m doing here. In fact, she’s jealous she isn’t here with me because she has always wanted to go to a strip club.”

I raise a brow at him. “Well, aren’t you two a match made in heaven?”

“Come on,” the redhead on his lap says. She stands to her feet and holds out her hands for Ethan.

He gives me a last look before taking her hand and they walk away from the table. When I’m alone, I sigh. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and scroll through all the text messages Evie has sent this past week. My fingers itch to type a response, but I can’t move them.

Fuck.

Amethyst’s words circle around my mind. You just need to make it right.

God, I wish it were that easy. But maybe she is right. I just need to put some trust in myself and what I have with Evie. Once I forgive myself for what happened, we can move forward. But I can’t wait too long, I know that.

But when will be the right time?

29

Evie

It has been nearly two weeks since the motorcycle accident and when I learned the truth about what happened to my parents. I hate that it took an accident like that for my subconscious to reveal such a pivotal piece of information that it chose to store away as a trauma response. I understand why it was kept hidden from me then, but I don’t know why it was unveiled now.

Is it because I’m taking small steps toward learning the truth and I just need a nudge in the right direction?

But then what does it mean for the man I saw standing over their bodies that night? Was he a vampire hunter? Was he the one to kill them?

The one thing I can’t wrap my head around is why my parents were targeted when they weren’t vampires. If they were vampires, I’m sure I would know about it by now. Knowing what I know about these creatures now, if I were a vampire, I would be one by now having gone through the transition process at eighteen. But that didn’t happen to me or Miles.

So, why them? It just doesn’t make any sense.

Other than that nightmare, I haven’t had one since. Is that my subconscious telling me all I need to know? If there is nothing left for me to remember, where do I go from here?

I’ve made the connection between all three of the situations—the old ‘70s case, the current murders, and my parent's case—but I’m no step closer to finding out who is behind any of them.

I sigh and look out the window of my bedroom at the leaves starting to turn brown in the big tree beside the house. Leaning my head against the window sill, I watch the light breeze rustle through the branches as the sun begins to set on the horizon. Now that fall has finally arrived, this has been my favorite spot to sit in the afternoon. Essentially being on house arrest doesn’t leave me much room for other activities.

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