Page 91 of Mad Love

“No, I’m going.” My pulse was racing, and I felt a little ill, but I was sure this needed to happen. I needed to see what my sister had hidden.

“What time?” Ryan demanded.

“Eleven,” Ash responded.

I glanced at the clock. It was a couple minutes after ten now.

“Can you let Linc and Court know to be ready to leave in fifteen?” Ryan kept his eyes on me.

“On it.” Ash hesitated. “Be careful, okay?”

“We will,” I promised as Ryan hung up. I settled my hands on his shoulders. “I should get ready.”

“Wait.” His hands tightened on my hips, keeping me on his lap as he frowned. “Just… are you sure, Maddie? We’ll stop Gary. You don’t have to do this.”

I laid a hand against his cheek. “Madelaine died for whatever secrets she was hiding in that vault. I need to know what they were. I owe her that much.”

He scowled. “You don’t owe her shit. She fucked you over, Madison.”

“But if she hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have you, would I?” I murmured. “Face it. Without Madelaine being, well, Madelaine, you and I never would’ve met.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. The bitch did one good thing.”

“She’s my sister, my twin.” I shook my head. “I can’t explain it, but I have to see this through. We’ve come too far.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if things go sideways—”

I leaned in and kissed the tip of his nose. “You’ll bring the cavalry and save me.”

He smiled viciously. “More like I’ll burn this city to the motherfucking ground, but sure. Cavalry works, too.”

* * *

Pandora was about what I’d expect of a strip club located several miles off the Las Vegas Strip and heading into the desert. With a tin roof and wood siding, it definitely hid the fact that several stories beneath the dirt and sand was a vault that protected the dirty secrets of the world’s elite.

The club was on an isolated stretch of road, and I wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not. Nothing about this place screamed super-secret vault hundreds of feet below the surface, but what did I know about running a criminal safety locker enterprise?

It looked like a barely functioning dive bar, with a neon sign advertising bare tits, and signs for half-priced drinks on Wednesdays and a wet t-shirt contest every Friday. The gravel parking lot was full of cars and motorcycles, and I felt out of place as I exited my taxi within my allotted time frame.

Surrounded by a ring of cigarette smoke, a group of men by the door eyed me like fresh meat. I straightened my shoulders and arched a brow full of boredom and disdain at them before moving toward the front door, reciting Ash’s instructions in my head as I went.

I needed to find the bartender and request a private dance with Violet. I’d be shown into a private room, searched for weapons and trackers as well as listening devices, before being screened. If I passed that, then I’d be escorted into the elevator and taken more than fifteen stories underground to the vault level.

Sounded easy enough, except for the screening part. As long as Madelaine had opted for a blood sample and not a biometric scan, I’d be golden. Our DNA was identical, but our fingerprints? Not so much.

The room was smokey and the music loud, the heavy bass of the song vibrating through my bones. There were three stages, each with their own pole and girls in varying stages of undress. The crowd was predominantly male, and I resisted the urge to look for the two people I knew were already inside.

Ryan and Linc had gone ahead of me to make sure they blended in well before my arrival. Court had trailed my taxi to make sure I made it to Pandora. Ryan had damn near thrown a bitch fit when Ash said I’d need to show up alone, but ultimately, he’d agreed to the plan.

A man bumped into me from behind, his hand curving around my hip as he leaned in to ask, “What time are you on, sweetcheeks?”

My nose wrinkled. I mean, sweetcheeks? Really?

“Not a dancer,” I informed him, pushing his paw off me.

His leering gaze swept the length of my body. Dressed in dirty jeans and an even dirtier shirt with holes in it, his handlebar mustache was longer on one side than the other. “One of the backroom girls then? Shit, Jasper sure is upping his talent lately. What’s the rate?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

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