I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel guilty, like I’ve done something wrong. Maybe even betrayed something between us. Suddenly, I’m afraid he’s going to think I’m with this guy Mark. I don’t want him to think that now, which is completely stupid because two seconds ago I was ready to sign up for the Mark fuck-me fan-club. But I can’t deny my own feelings. They’re there and mighty inconvenient. Nothing makes sense anymore. Panic sets in once again.

  I back away, but Mark grabs me by the waist and pulls me towards him. “Where are you going?” His smile is completely non-threatening and should have been sexy as hell, but all it does is irritate me.

  I put my hand on his wrist and push it down to detach him from me. “I’m good right here, thanks.” I step away again.

  “You sure?” he asks, moving towards me. He’s not being an ass, just persistent. Normally I’d like that in a guy, but right now it’s just damn inconvenient and mostly annoying.

  I feel someone standing against my back.

  “You okay, Quinlan?” Mick asks over my shoulder.

  My knees go weak at the close contact. The kiss he snuck from me comes back full force and my lips tingle with the memory. I am completely turned upside down inside. Now I can finally appreciate why Hellion is Mick’s nickname. He is raising hell with my system for sure.

  “Hey, buddy, what’s up?” Mark asks, lifting his chin in Mick’s direction.

  I turn sideways. “I’m fine, Mick. And stop calling me Quinlan.” I feel nauseated. Is it the drinks? Could two shots make me vom on the dance floor? And if I do lose it, will I ever be able to show my face in the LA club scene again? No, probably not. I’ll always be the girl who blew chunks on the dance floor.

  Mick looks down at me as if we’re the only ones in the whole place. My stomach does about ten flips and the music fades out like someone turned down the volume. My ears and throat burn with either near-vomit or my new Hellion-addiction. Neither one is good.

  “That’s your name, though. Your mom told me so.” He grins like he’s the king of the world. Like none of this is affecting him and I’m just some plaything he’s enjoying batting around.

  “Hey buddy, why don’t you go find another girl?” says Mark. “This one’s taken.”

  I frown, not sure how I feel about being in the middle of a cock fight. I do want Mick to go away, but only so I can get my stomach and brain back online.

  “I don’t think so,” says Mick, his shoulders going back a little.

  He’s fighting for me? What? What does that mean?!

  “Well, I do,” says Mark, drawing up to his full height. He’s got about four inches on Mick, at least.

  “Hey!” I yell, deciding then and there that I don’t appreciate being treated like a piece of meat. “Why don’t both of you back the hell off?” I turn and leave the dance floor, headed to the front door. I need to get some fresh air before I do something stupid.

  I finally get through the throngs of people hanging out in groups between the dance floor and the entrance. Rebel’s there but Teagan isn’t.

  “Where’s Tea?” I ask, wiping the sweat from the side of my face. I try to hide the fact that my hand is shaking. I’m pretty sure I’m suffering an overdose of adrenaline or something.

  Rebel hands someone back his ID and ignores the next person in line to answer me. “I thought she was with you.” He stands up off his stool, his expression going dark.

  “She was. But then I got involved dancing and lost her.”

  Rebel presses something on his waist and speaks out into the air. “Mick, pick up.” He pauses and stares at the ground for a couple seconds before lifting up his head really quick and looking off into the distance. “Where’s Teagan? You see her?”

  A couple seconds later and he’s moving away from the door.

  “What? What’s going on?” I ask, running after him.

  He taps a big black man on the shoulder and gestures at the front entrance. The man takes over the ID checking spot as Rebel moves quickly through the crowd.

  I don’t waste any time, rushing to trail after him. When he moves too quickly, I grab ahold of one of his belt-buckle loops and get dragged behind.

  “What’s the matter?!” I yell, afraid of what his answer might be.

  “Probably nothing,” he says without looking back. He reaches the DJ booth and goes up the stairs to get inside. I have to stop at the top of the stairs because there isn’t enough room for me inside with Rebel and the DJ already filling up the small space.

  He scans the crowd below, looking for Teagan, and I do the same from my spot on the stairs. I see the office party chicks, the vampire I left standing off on the side of the floor, and Mick at the bar, but no Teagan.

  “Maybe she’s in the bathroom,” I say, leaving Rebel there without another word. My heart is in my throat with the horrible images that are bashing around in my mind. She’s already been kidnapped once, and I don’t doubt for a second that it could happen again. Maybe because the first time was so ridiculously unbelievable, it makes almost anything possible in my world. She’s been busy threatening her step-mother’s meal ticket for the past couple weeks through her attorneys, and that woman has already shown what she’s capable of. She’s desperate and not at all interested in going back to waiting tables for a living.

  I race through the crowd, pushing roughly past people and ignoring their cries of anger. One girl has the really bad judgment to slap me in the back as I go by, so I have to stop for a moment and give her a lesson in manners. I consider a right hook to the jaw, but don’t want puffy knuckles, so instead I go for a double boob-punch. She’s down and wheezing on the floor half a second later and I continue my sprint to the bathrooms.

  I burst in through the doors and scream, “Teagan! Are you in here?!” The smell of fake flower scents sprayed over turds wafts under my nose, making me almost retch. Adrenaline and ass-flowers do not mix well, apparently. I swallow with difficulty as I wait for a sign from my friend.

  A few girls standing in front of the mirrors turn around and stare at me like I’m completely crazy. I catch a glimpse of my own reflection and decide they’re really not that far off in that assessment. Normally I’d stop and fix my frizzy hair and mangled eyebrows, but I don’t have time. I cannot believe this is happening. I have to get out of here and find Teagan.

  I spin around and leave the bathroom, heading back to the bar. All the games I was playing with Mick are silly and stupid and gone from my head. Guilt assails me. Why did I leave her for that guy Mark? Why didn’t I just focus all my attention on the only person who matters in this entire building? Selfish, selfish, selfish.

  I hate myself so much. Tears come out and I’m sure they’re ruining my makeup, but I don’t care. As I push through the crowd, I feel the glue coming undone on one of my eyelashes, but I ignore it. Who cares about eyelashes? My friend has been kidnapped!

  I get to the bar and Mick is there, staring off into space.

  “What are you doing?!” I grab the edge of the bar and lean in, screaming in his face. “Call the cops!”

  He frowns at me and holds up a finger in my face.

  My jaw drops open at his audacity. My best friend is probably on her way to being killed and he’s shushing me with a finger!

  I reach out to grab it with plans to break it in half, but I stop just as he begins to speak. “Okay, I’ll let her know.”

  He breaks out of his trance and looks at me. “Teagan is fine. She’s upstairs with Olga.”

  I’m momentarily speechless. Olga? Who the hell is Olga? I’m picturing a fat woman with a moderately heavy beard. My suspicions that Rebel and his brothers are somehow connected to the Russian mafia are heightened. They certainly look the part. And Olga? Oh, yeah. Something’s definitely up here.

  “Show me the stairs,” I say when I finally get my tongue working again.

  “You don’t want to go up there. Trust me.” Mick grabs a rag and wipes off the bar in front of me. He’s letting another b
artender do all the work. Normally I’d be flattered to get all this attention from a bartender in a club, but right now all it does is annoy me. Mick is not helping.

  “Actually, I do want to go up there. Where are the stairs?” I look around, trying to figure out what direction to go in.

  “Fine, you want to go? Go. They’re over there in the corner. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He points to a spot just to the left of the entrance to the club just as he’s pressing something near his hip. “Rebel, she’s with Olga. Olga says you can chillax now and go back to the front door.”

  I rush away from the bar before I can hear the rest of their conversation. Whoever this Olga person is, she must run the show.

  I find the stairs in the purple black-lighted corner and use the railing to guide me and keep from falling. Everything is dark - the walls, the floors, the railing … only the lint on the carpet that is glowing from the purple lights shows me where anything is.

  As I get near the top of the stairs, a door flies open above me and Teagan appears. I don’t even need to talk to her to know she’s furious.

  Right behind her is a tall, blonde woman. I recall seeing her here once before, the first time we came to the club. It was the fateful day that Rebel took Teagan’s driver’s license away and started this whole thing with her.

  “Come on,” Teagan says, racing down the stairs towards me. “We’re leaving.”

  “Leaving?” I think I’m about to watch her go right by me, but she grabs my upper arm and drags me behind her. I have to grip both sides of the stairwell to keep from falling. My calf-shoes are not good ballet shoes, and I go from cool to fool in less than a second as I scramble to stay upright.

  “Hey, ease up! I’m about to break both ankles here.” Good thing I have strong butt muscles. They’re the only thing that save me from a hospital trip.

  “Sorry,” she says, letting me go. Her voice is full of the tears she’s about to let loose. “I have to get out of here right now.”

  “Okay, I get it, I get it.” I stand up straight and begin a more orderly descent.

  Rebel appears at the bottom of the stairs and Teagan stops suddenly. I bang into her and have to grab one railing with both hands again to keep from falling the rest of the way down. She barely sways forward at the impact, all her attention on her boyfriend.

  “Hey, babe. What’s up?” he says. I can hear caution in his voice, and I’m thinking he’s a pretty smart guy for being worried.

  “Get out of my way, Rebel.” Her tone is cold. It sends a shiver up my spine, so I can only imagine what it’s doing to her main man. I think he really does love her.

  “What’s wrong? What’d she say to you?”

  “Just the truth, which is more than I can say for you.” Teagan continues down the stairs and pushes by him.

  He reaches out and grabs her wrist. “Where are you going?” he asks. He clamps his jaw down when he’s done talking and his facial muscles bounce around. He’s pissed or worried. If I were him, I’d be freaking. Teagan doesn’t usually get this upset this fast unless it’s something major.

  “I’m going somewhere you don’t need to worry about. Now let me go.” She jerks her arm out of his grip and continues towards the door.

  He looks at me and says nothing. He’s furious; I can tell by the storm clouds that have moved in over his head. They make me feel like I’m at fault for some stupid reason. He’s got mad guilt-trip skills.

  “Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t do anything!” I breeze by him, trying to keep up with Teagan. I have to take short, choppy steps to run in these stupid shoes.

  “Tell her to call me!” he yells at my back.

  I ignore him. He’s not my boss. And if Teagan tells me he’s done something really wrong, I’m going to tell her not to call him. Fuck guys and their games. They’re all the same.

  “Tea, wait!” I yell as she disappears around the corner. She’s moving way too fast for me to keep up in these damn heels.

  “Where are you going?” Mick asks, appearing at my shoulder as I get near the front door.

  “None of your beeswax!” I say, breathless with the unexpected exercise.

  “Call me!” he yells as I make it to the door.

  “Blow it out your butt!” I yell back, racing towards the parking lot. I really, really do not want to be left behind at this place, especially with all that drama back there waiting for me. And if Mick thinks I’m going to call him when my BFF is pissed at his brother, he’d better go check himself into rehab cuz he be smokin’ crack, yo.

  CHAPTER TEN

  TEAGAN’S CRYING SILENTLY AS SHE drives down the street like a bat out of hell.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, not wanting to push her but also not real crazy about the direction we’re going.

  “Away,” she says, her voice wavering as she works to hold in a sob.

  “Away tooooooo … crack-whores-ville?”

  “Yes.” She shifts to a higher gear and presses the accelerator harder.

  “Okaaaay.” I pause as I consider my next words. I’m not sure that this is the best time to engage her in a conversation about what Olga said or did. “How about you pull into that Denny’s over there and we talk in the parking lot?”

  “I hate Denny’s. I’m not going there.”

  “You don’t have to eat. Just pull in.” I reach over and nudge the steering wheel.

  She huffs out an annoyed breath, but downshifts and swings the car into the lot. I have to brace myself against the door and dashboard to keep from being unseated.

  “Wow. Been practicing stunt driving long?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Shut up,” she says, rolling towards a space and turning off the engine at the same time. We coast into the spot and come to a stand-still. She jerks up the emergency brake and then puts her arms and forehead on the steering wheel.

  I rub her back, waiting for her to spill her guts.

  “He lied,” she finally says. “He lied about that … that … supermodel assbag.”

  “Olga?”

  She turns her head to look at me. “Who else would I be talking about?”

  “Sorry. Geez, lighten up, okay? I’m not the enemy here.”

  She turns her face to look at the floor again. “I know. I’m just … really upset.” She’s crying before the sentence is fully out.

  I grab her by the shoulders and pull her towards me. “Come here, Tea-Tea. Don’t cry on your steering wheel, cry on me.”

  She leans towards me like she has no bones left in her body. Her arms hang limply by her sides as she heaves out tear after tear and sob after sob.

  “Listen, I’m only in the Rebel fan club if you’re the president, so don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe you just misunderstood something. I mean, did he actually lie to you or did this Olga bitch do the lying?”

  Teagan sits up suddenly, wiping her face with her hand angrily. “No. It was a lie of omission. I asked him weeks ago whether he was ever with her and he denied it. But apparently, that’s a big fat fucking lie. They were together, Quin. Together. As in a couple.”

  “Wait a minute … I thought you told me he did admit to being with her. I’m confused.”

  “No, what I said was that he said he was just in some small thing that was nothing and was very short and no big deal.”

  “Somehow I doubt those are his words. There are way too many syllables involved.”

  “You know what I mean! He says a lot without saying a lot.”

  I snort. “Says you.”

  “Quin! Whose side are you on?!” Her face is bright red, and I’m trying really hard not to fish around for a tissue to wrangle the snot coming out of her nose.

  “I’m on yours, of course.” I look away. “Gah, Teagan, wipe your nose. My stomach is a mess tonight and you’re making me sick.”

  She uses the back of her hand, which doesn’t improve my indigestion one bit.

  I get a text, and since the only people who tex
t me at this time of night are pretty much in the car with me right now I look at my phone.

  Are you with Teagan?

  I don’t recognize the number, but I’m pretty sure I know who it is.

  I respond with my own text: Go away.

  “Who is it?” Teagan asks, wiping her nose again.

  “It’s Mick, I think.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He wants to know if I’m with you. I told him to go away.”

  Bring her to RW. Don’t let her go to that hole.

  “He wants me to bring you to Rebel Wheels. They don’t want you over at the Golden Tooth Legacy.”

  She huffs out a snort. “Like they can tell me what to do.”

  I chew my lip, trying to figure out how I can manipulate her into going to Rebel’s place. I’m with Mick. I don’t want her hanging out with the break-dancing alcoholics at her old apartment complex where she still has a place. “Listen, babe … don’t you think you’re better off in a safe place where kidnappers can’t snag your ass and punch your face off?”

  She hesitates and I hold my breath, waiting for her response. I’m worried I’ve pushed too hard and will end up hitching a ride home.

  “That’s not going to happen again. No one’s going to touch me. My step-mother knows they’re watching her.”

  “Let’s hope not. But just to be sure, I’d sleep a lot better knowing you have a wall of muscle between you and the bad guys, if you know what I mean.”

  “But that muscle is a liar.”

  “Only some of that muscle is a liar. You still have Colin, and if you ask me, he’s plenty of muscle all on his own.” I can still remember the pile of wasted human being that greeted us at the top of Rebel’s stairs, when he basically rescued Teagan from their asses. One of them was in a coma for a week and the other one had just about every bone in his face broken.

  Teagan sighs out long and loudly. “Fine. Take me to Rebel Wheels. But I am not sleeping in the same room as him. I’m sleeping on the couch.”