Chapter 18

Grant

I knew exactly what kind of guy hung out at Club Viper. And when I saw that text message, instinctively I knew it was Lacey, on that cursed date with some dickhead from the Internet. What had she said his name was? Rob? Rob something?

If that cocksucker so much as laid a finger on her, I’d break his hand. I’d break his arms. I’d break his legs. I’d break every fucking bone in his body.

How had I been so stupid? If she was in danger, it was my fault. It was all my fault. I was in a surveillance van. If anyone could have scoped out her date and made sure he wasn’t some freak, it was me.

I owed her. She’d given me so much in my life. Not just our night of passion, but over the years, she’d given me so much more than I ever deserved. She was the reason I’d been able to push through my bad habits and become the man I was. Everything was because of her. And I hadn’t checked out this Rob guy to make sure he was safe.

I tore through the streets at breakneck speed. The van wasn’t built for it, and behind me, the surveillance equipment flew all over the place. I didn’t care. I rounded the corner and pulled to a skidding halt outside the club as if being chased by a fleet of police cars. The crowd waiting outside the club all turned to look.

I stormed out of the van and approached the door. Luckily for the security guard, he recognized me. I know I said slime balls frequented Club Viper, but I wasn’t exactly a stranger to the place myself. I’ll admit it, I sometimes like to party.

“Grant,” the guard said, stepping out of my way.

“You see a blonde come in here with a douchebag named Rob?” I said.

I was about to pull my wallet from my pants. No one knows this but I have a picture of Lacey, in a tight compartment at the back, behind my credit cards. I look at it sometimes when I think of her.

“They came in,” he said, “but the girl already left.”

“What?”

“She left about twenty minutes ago. Went that way.” He pointed down the street. “She looked like a million bucks.”

“Who did she leave with?”

“She was alone?”

“Alone? In a neighborhood like this?”

“If I’d known she was a friend of yours, Grant.”

“She’s more than a friend.”

The guard looked at me helplessly.

“Fuck. Did she at least get a cab or something?”

“She walked.”

“In heels and a short dress?”

The guard nodded.

“Fuck, man. You know what can happen to a girl around here.”

“I didn’t know she was your friend, man.”

“She’s not my friend. She’s my fucking family. She’s everything.”

The guard shrugged. I peered down the street in the direction he said she’d gone.

“Did she look okay?”

“She looked like she was in a hurry, but she was fine. No one followed her or nothing.”

“So the guy she came with is still inside?”

“Rob? Yeah, why?”

“Show me the fucker.”

“Grant. You’re not going to cause trouble, are you? As far as I know, nothing bad happened to your friend.”

I pushed past him into the club. He followed at my side.

“Call her my friend again and I’ll lose my temper,” I said.

The guard was a good kid and he knew me well. He took me to the VIP area and pointed at a table surrounded by a couple of the slime balls I mentioned earlier and their groupie whores.

“I’ll take it from here,” I told him.

“You sure? They’re nasty.”

“I’m just going to talk to them,” I lied.

He seemed relieved and waited at the entrance of the VIP area while I proceeded alone up the steps.

“What’s this?” one of the slime balls said, a martini glass in his hand.

I smiled at him. The girls all looked up at me, real interested in what I was going to say. Girls like that have always been drawn to me. I’ll be damned if I know why.

“Which one of you fucks is Rob?” I said.

“Hey,” the guy with the martini glass said. “You can’t talk like that about Rob.”

Another guy, a big guy with a beard, stood up. “And who the fuck is asking?” he said.

“If you guys aren’t Rob, there’s no reason for you to get hurt,” I said. “That’s the only warning I’ll give.”

The guy with the beard looked at the guy with the martini glass. Then they looked over their shoulders at three heavies who were watching everything. All five guys started approaching me.

I shook my head. I didn’t have time to smash up a bar. I had to find Lacey.

It was the guy with the beard that reached me first. He swung a punch, which I dodged, then grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him, face first, into a tray of champagne flutes. A heavy was next, his lumbering movements pathetically slow.

I swung my knee into his groin and then slammed him on top of the bearded guy. A second heavy landed a fist on my shoulder but I leaned away from it and he stumbled forward. A fist on his chin, followed by another on his neck, took care of him. The last heavy and the guy with the martini glass hesitated at this point. It was a wise decision.

The entire club was watching.

“Rob,” I said again. “This is the last time I ask nice. After this, it’ll be time to start calling paramedics.”

They looked at their friends in a crumpled mess on the floor.

“Fuck you,” the guy with the martini glass said.

I had a feeling he was Rob, he had the look of the kind of idiot Lacey might go on a date with. Good looking, but no substance.

I was about to jump across the table and grab him when I felt a sharp pain at the back of my left knee. I turned in time to see one of the heavies had smashed a champagne bottle against the back of my leg.

Another leapt toward me. I managed to push him into the rail that separated the VIP area from the rest of the club, but I fell. I heard a crunch as my cell phone smashed under my weight.

The guy I’d just flung into the railing was coming back for me and as he made to kick me on the ground I grabbed his foot in mid-movement. I pushed myself up and under him, lifting him over me. He came crashing down on the table, covering the chicks who were still sitting there with champagne.

It was just me and the martini guy now.

“You’re Rob, aren’t you?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am.”

“It will when my guys destroy your life.”

I smiled. “We’ll see about that. In the meantime, where’s Lacey?”

“Lacey? This is about Lacey?”

“Yes it is, now where the fuck is she?”

“She’s gone, man. She fucking left.”

“And is there any reason for me to believe she might not have had a good time while she was with you?”

“I didn’t touch her.”

“Then why did she leave in such a hurry?”

I knew something had happened. That text message had come from someone else’s phone. That meant she didn’t have access to her own. She’d left the club on foot, alone. That meant, at the very least, she wasn’t enjoying herself.

“I didn’t even know she was gone,” the guy said.

I looked at him, reading the look in his eyes. I didn’t buy it. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d let his date slip out when she wasn’t having fun. He was pushy. He’d have forced her to stay. The text message had said, help.

He’d done something to her.

“Let me ask you a question,” I said to him. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a plastic surgeon.”

That was all I needed to know.

I took three strides toward him, he crouched back in fear but I didn’t care. I wasn’t showing him any mercy. He swung for me and I leaned back, out of reach, then I planted a heavy fist in his face, followed by a second. He fell back like a log.