Page 13 of Maid of Dishonor
7
DEAN
Getting from the hotel to the club is just down the Strip, but my feet couldn't get me there fast enough, knowing that Veronica was in danger. It's all my fault for pulling her into this. If anything happens to her—I can’t even allow my brain to finish that thought. I will get to her. She will be fine.
I repeat those words like a mantra in my head over and over again, hoping to manifest the outcome of this night.
I slow down as I approach the club. There's no telling who Gio has stationed outside waiting to jump me if I run full speed towards the door.
There’s a guy around my age, holding a large duffel bag and staring at the door. He’s definitely not one of Gio’s crew, but it’s clear that it’s his intention to go into the club. I can’t take any chance that he’s not there as a plant to get me, so I move slowly up behind him and shove him against the brick partition wall of the club.
“What the hell are you doing?” he yells.
"I could ask you the same thing," I say, putting my knee into his back to hold him.
“I’m here to save my friend, Thatcher.”
This takes me by surprise, and I loosen my hold on him. I spin him around. He doesn't look anything like the type of guys that Maitland would be friends with. Pulling the duffel from his hand, I open it and find a pile of cash.
“You can’t do that,” he says, reaching for it.
“You’re the guy he said was going to bring the money,” I say, realizing that from the side, he looks just like the guy I saw Maitland talking with earlier tonight on the security cameras. He wasn’t lying when he said that he had the money. “I’m going to need your help.”
VERONICA
It’s eerie sitting in the same club that just a few hours ago was packed with people, but now it's empty. It's even worse with my wrists being bound together and being held hostage.
“What are you planning to do with me?” I ask the mountain of muscle standing in front of me.
His arms are crossed over his broad chest, and he looks like he was never taught to smile. When he doesn't say anything, my Irish temper strikes again, and my mouth gets the better of me.
"Do you speak, or are grunts your only way of communicating?" I ask.
His eyes narrow on me, and his jaw ticks like he's clenching his teeth.
"Careful, Miss," the other man from earlier says with a chuckle. "Lorenzo isn't one you want to antagonize."
“And who are you?” I ask.
His head tilts in amusement. "You don't seem too concerned with the predicament you find yourself in at this moment."
“Am I in danger?” I ask directly, knowing that I'll see the truth if he's lying.
“Yes.”
Fuck. He’s not lying.
I try to hide the growing panic in my chest. “What do you want from me? I don’t even know you.”
“You can call me Gio." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "And we have a similar acquaintance."
“Dean.”
“Yes,” he nods. “I believe that’s the name he goes by when he isn’t trying to infiltrate my crew.”
"You had him already, and you left him at the hotel," I say.
“Yes, but I’ve come to realize just how resourceful Dean can be when lives are on the line. I’m owed a lot of money and I think that Dean is just the man to get it for me. Especially if his sweetheart is in danger.”
