Page 125 of Connor's Claim

A thought troubled my mind. Shakily, I raised my hand.

Arran tilted his head for me to proceed.

“Strip clubs require a licence. It would be easy to shut him down if they don’t have one.”

Connor gave me an approving nod. “It explains why Red was so set on dealing with the mayor. We can assume he’s bought off the police to some extent, but even he isn’t brazen enough to front a club without some legal backing. It would get shut down in a heartbeat. The assumption is he’s playing a long game.”

The phone call. The attempt on kidnapping me. I understood now why the rival gang leader was set on manipulating my father. I’d been a pawn in that game, or at least an intended one.

Genevieve leaned into me. “Divine is the only licensed strip club in Deadwater. Arran takes pains to make sure that’s the case for the sake of the women who work here.”

To the tune of outraged crew members griping about territorial violations, I reached for my phone. “I’ll find out if they’ve gone legal.”

In the past, it would have taken little effort for me to go looking in a file system for council records, but my access had been pulled. Instead, I called a woman who owed me a favour.

Councillor Pressley answered immediately. “Everly?”

“Good evening, Councillor. I’m sorry to call so late.”

She took a hushed breath. “We were informed that you were poorly, then today I heard you’d left. Such a shock. Are you well?”

“Perfectly. Never better. I need to ask your help with something.” Rapidly, I made my request.

Mary Pressley sighed. “That’s a can of worms. Over the past year, we’ve had repeated presentations to the licensing committee for a second strip club in Deadwater. I chair that committee, which of course you know because that’s why you’ve called me, and each application has been refused. However, this evening, I was informed by your father, I mean the mayor, that I’ve been overruled and there was a licence granted with immediate effect.”

My heart sank. Why had my father done it? There was only one answer I could assume. Revenge over me because I’d picked Connor above him. I thanked the councillor and hung up, relaying the information to the room.

Grim expressions fell across every face. I understood. It was no casual conversation that Arran had gathered his people here for now. He’d amassed his troops to go out, and it didn’t take a genius to know why. He was going to take the rival club down. Whatever else motivated him, the knowledge that in general, those kinds of places enabled abuse of women had to be top of his agenda.

But with a licence in place, it meant protection for the gang. What that looked like, I didn’t know, but it felt like a dramatic shift in the balance of Deadwater’s gangs and the city. A balance that had maintained safety for the people who lived here. I didn’t like it. And from the terse conversation between Connor and Arran, they were out for blood.

Arran returned to addressing the room. “The raid stands. We’re taking them down tonight, and fuck them for thinking they can step into skeleton crew territory. Any women we retrieve will be taken to a safe house then integrated here should they choose. Key members of the Four Milers should be takenalive, if possible. We’re also seeking to retrieve Convict and Alisha. Ready up, we leave in five.”

A cheer went up, and a palpable energy made of adrenaline and testosterone swamped the space. Mick and Manny appeared in front of Genevieve and me. I knew what was coming next. That we’d be sequestered away upstairs to spend the rest of the night panicking over the fight that would be taking place across town. Who knew what would happen. Who knew how many would lose their lives and bleed out on Deadwater’s streets.

Connor could die.

Desperation filled me, and I opened my mouth to protest. To say anything that would reduce the risk to the man I loved.

A thumping sound ricocheted through the nightclub.

Silence fell.

The knock repeated, coming from the main entranceway.

In unison, screens were raised, presumably to examine the cameras that watched the road outside. I caught a glimpse at Manny’s.

A young woman stood outside the warehouse, visibly shaking, and with her gaze trained on something behind her, even as she raised her hand again to knock. She was familiar. One of the dancers here, or someone who worked the bar.

At a chin lift from Connor, one of the crew went to the door. On-screen, the woman spun around and grasped the arm of the man at the door, rapidly speaking.

I picked up a few words. They were enough. “…a body. Slit throat…”

Then the killer blow.

“A woman.”

Connor and Arran stormed the door. A group of men streamed out after, Manny locking the entrance behind them. Before he did, he took in the scene outside and swore.

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