Page 14 of Grimm
Saved by the bell.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Goddamn it, River!”
He cursed under his breath before stepping away, giving me much-needed space. I sighed in relief.
“Prez!” they called out again, the door of the clubhouse swinging open and slamming into the side of the building. “Joker’s lookin’ for ya!”
“Give me a damn minute, Prospect!” Tavish yelled.
The interruption gave me the opportunity to open my car door and slip behind the wheel like a skittish rabbit. His deep chuckle vibrated through my body, affecting me in places it shouldn’t. I needed distance. I needed distance before I threw all common sense out the window and fucked him senseless.
He leaned down, ducking his head inside the door frame. “See you next Saturday, Gina.”
I didn’t trust my voice, so I nodded.
He stepped away from the car and closed my door. I started the engine, then pulled away, releasing another breath as the reality of what I’d done started to sink in.
I ran my hand over the crown of my head. “What the hell did you just do, Gina?” I glanced in my rearview mirror. Tavish MacDaniel stood with his massive arms crossed over his chest, watching me drive away, a smug look on his face. “You just made a deal with the damn devil. That’s what the hell you just did.”
Not only had I walked into the lion’s den and survived, but I also captured the eye of the fucking king.
“I’m so screwed,” I muttered.
CHAPTER FIVE
GRIMM
Flaming Eagles
Shit was about to hit the fan. Joker asked around about the missing kid, and according to some dancers and waitresses at the club, David Coleman had been there more than once before his disappearance. He shouldn’t have even been allowed in the club, and I ordered Joker to handle the lapse in security.
Why would a nineteen-year-old kid, with the rest of his life ahead of him and a loving sister with the means to take care of him if he needed help, disappear without a trace from our establishment? And why was he there in the first place?
“A lot of fucking questions and not one fucking answer.”
I sat back in my chair. Instead of sipping, I downed the entire rocks glass, barely enjoying the smoothness of the thirty-year-old single malt scotch snaking its way down my throat. Although I’d been saving it for a special occasion, tonight, I’d said, “What the hell.” This wasn’t a Jack and Coke type of day. I needed something stronger to help me relax and get Regina Coleman off my mind, if possible.
Of course, the shit wasn’t working.
Nothing worked.
I shuffled through the still images pulled from the surveillance camera footage Joker dropped off earlier. In every shot so far, David was with the same girl—early twenties, long black waist-length hair. Beautiful girl. But she looked like someone who waskeptand out of place in a strip club.
She’d dressed the part, short dress stopping at the curve of her ass and heels that looked like, if she took a wrong step, she’d break her damn neck like a lot of the ladies who frequented Vegas’ nightlife. That was where it ended. What separated her from those types of women was the jewelry on her hands and around her neck. It wasn’t costume, and the rose goldAudemars Piguetwatch sparkling on her wrist had to be worth close to a hundred thousand dollars alone. She was someone’s woman.Whosewoman was the question.
While she and David were always together, a different man came in with them each time.
Her bodyguard, maybe.
David didn’t look physically hurt. There were no visible bruises or scrapes, but he did look scared as hell, tense with clenched fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his jeans. He barely looked anyone in the eye, and if he did, it was only for a second or two.
The dancers said the girl came in at least three times a month with another young guy, but not David. They hadn’t seen him in a while. Gina was right—at least six months ago was the last time he’d been captured on surveillance footage, and that was also how long it had been since the girls or bartenders remembered seeing him. They remembered him because he seemed young for his age, and he was very respectful, something they said they weren’t used to with some of the men who frequented the joint.
At this point, my mind gravitated to the worst-case scenario. David might be caught up in a sex-trafficking ring, which was the most plausible, or being used as a drug mule. In Nevada, although brothels were legal, the skin trade remained a very lucrative business. The mafia and the cartel used sex-trafficking rings to traffic drugs over the border, through Vegas, and into Canada. And they smuggled money from Canada, through Vegas, and into Mexico using the same methods.
Runaways, pros, and tourists were all easy victims. It was one of the very well-kept secrets plaguing the city. It could also be why the police refused to get involved in David’s disappearance. They might have had an idea who was behind his disappearance, or they knew more than likely he was gone, never to be found. I hoped not, for Gina’s sake, but it was the most likely outcome.
As I stared at the next image in the stack, I groaned, raking my hand down my face.
