Page 70 of Covert
I work on the hanging bag and push myself to exhaustion in our gym, and ruminate. I worry about her. I wonder where she is, if she was punished when she got home, and what kinds of punishment she would receive. I worry that she's not eating or sleeping enough.
Today marks the two-month anniversary of her leaving us, and I can't take it anymore.
I push Axel's door open and storm into his room. He's in his stupid oversized desk chair that he bought specifically for Nikki. Now it's just a reminder of her absence.
"What the fuck are we doing? We have to get her back!" I shout. I know I'm not mad at him, but I can't handle it anymore. I need something to do. I need some sign of her. Anything!
Axel doesn't turn when he replies. "What do you think I'm doing?" he retorts, his voice emotionless and deadpan.
I look at his screens. He's got newspaper clippings, a spreadsheet, banking statements, a legal-looking document, and... a family tree?
None of it makes sense, so I lash out again. "How the fuck would I know? You don't talk to us anymore!"
He turns to me, finally. "I'm looking into the Ricci family and all of their connections. So far, I know where their house is, all of their family members, legitimate and not, various shell companies, and a strip club called The Diamond Lily."
I'm momentarily stunned. I knew he loved her and would do anything for her, but I thought he was mourning like me, not doing reconnaissance on the most famous mafia family.
I could drive by her house, or her family members' houses, but if they notice me acting suspicious, it may blow back onto her. They'll know someone's looking for her, and that might make it worse for her.
I can't do anything about their shell companies, but I can go to a strip club. Maybe somebody there will know something.
I grab my motorcycle jacket from the hook and plug the Diamond Lily into my GPS. I need something, anything, to connect me with her. Even if no one there knows anything, it's one step closer to her, and maybe that will be enough to get by. If she's not there tonight, I'llkeep coming back. I'll come back every night until I know something-something that gets me closer to my woman.
My heart had stopped beating when she kissed me goodbye. I feel like I've haven't breathed since. Like my soul lives outside of my body, just waiting for her to return.
I speed to the club, weaving through traffic, way too fast. I park in the gravel parking lot and look at the black steel door to the strip club. It's not one of the nicer ones that I expected her family to own. But it's likely just a front for whatever illegal things they do.
I take the steps up two at a time and glare at the bouncer, demanding entrance. I don't know that he would have refused me, but I don't leave it to chance. I'll burn down this fucking town to find her.
He lets me in, and once I'm through a small foyer with a coat check, I push my way into the main room of the club. The lights are low, red spot lights playing in the shadows, while a low base reverberates through the room. I take a moment to let my eyes adjust before I scan the room. Two strippers dance on poles to the right, and a long bar to the left.
And then I see her.
In the back corner of the club, my woman sits on a high-back leather chair, like a fucking Goddess. She's dressed in her leather riding gear, except instead of boots she has on heels. And there's a topless woman rubbing her ass all over my woman's lap. Nikki's hand rests on the stripper's hip, and I see red.
Nikki sees me, her eyes flaring for a moment, before she gives me the tiniest shake of her head, and her eyes dart to one of the men surrounding her. Fuck. She's got guards. I take a deep breath, letting my anger and loss and lust disappate. I need to play this cool if I wantto get close to her. I want to get her out of here and get her home, where I can live between her thighs for the rest of our lives.
She subtly runs her hand down the stripper's back, but where it looks innocent enough, her thumb rubs down her sternum, right where her tattoo is. A silent message. An "I love you" and an "I'm yours" delivered undercover from far away.
I slide up to the bar and onto a stool before ordering a whiskey neat from the blonde behind the bar. I keep Nikki in my peripheral. My body thrums and protests, and being so close to her without touching her, without tasting her, without telling her how much I love her and how she needs to come home. How I can't breathe without her.
I'm lost in my train of thought when a big-breasted red head slides up next to me, her nipples barely covered in tassels.
"Wanna dance, big boy?" she coos, running a manicured hand along my shoulders and down my arm.
"No, the fuck I don't," I growl. But she's unperturbed. She simply turns and leans her back against my side, dancing seductively.
"Mistress Nicoletta asked me to come get you to meet her," the stripper whispers. My entire body is suddenly on alert, and my prior revulsion at being touched by a stranger is replaced with interest, intrigue.
"I'm listening," I whisper, wanting more.
"She told me to take you to room four. To make it look like you were getting a private show, and that she would join you after."
"Fuck, okay." I grab the redhead's hand and let her lead me to a back hallway. She nods at another bouncer who is standing just outside a door, before pushing through the door and leading us to a privateroom. It's small, but has a couch, table, wet bar, and small stage with a pole.
I hate the idea that my Nikki is in a place like this. She's so innocent and sweet. But the Nikki I just saw is anything but. She's comfortable in a strip club. She's commanding, domineering, and in control. It's intoxicating.
I sit on the couch, my knee bouncing with anticipation, while the redhead busies herself with the wet bar.
