Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Instantly, her hand goes up, and her finger points directly at me.
“Cop!” she shouts.
I can feel all the blood suddenly rush from my face as all eyes in the club turn to stare at me. The music stops, the dancing and boisterous conversations stop, and every single person in the bar is now glaring at me with utter disdain. Nico said this place was a Bratva meeting spot, but he failed to mention that all the patrons in here seem to be mafia-aligned. I’ve walked into the lion’s den, and I’m about to get bitten. Shit.
The bouncer no longer seems to care at all about the woman who has strangely brought a laptop into a nightclub, and instead, he makes a beeline for where I’m sitting at the bar. Whoever she is, this was her play—to create a distraction that gets the attention off her and onto me.
I stand up and instinctively reach for the gun that I sometimes have on me while out in the field. But since I wasn’t planning on this being a confrontational evening, and I was attempting to dress the part of nightclub patron tonight, I left my gun at home. Double shit.
“I’m not a cop,” I say. My lie sounds as shaky as my legs are currently feeling as I watch several security guards close in on me at once.
I turn to the bartender with pleading eyes, as if I expect him to help me at all.
“Please, I’m not a cop. I’m just here to have a drink and find a date.”
“Sure, you are, sweetheart,” the bartender sneers. “Except for the fact that all you’ve been doing since you got here is sit on that stool and case the place.”
From the corner of my eye, I see the mafia kingpin motion for his own personal security to come get me. If he truly did have something to do with my mother’s death, I fear that I’m next. I need to get out of here now.
The very same kind of adrenaline rush that swept over me the night in the alley surges through me again now. I spot a quick path through the crowd toward the exit and push off my heels to run out of here as fast as I can. Unfortunately, the bouncers are not as nimble as I am. One of them reaches an arm out and grabs the side of my shirt, sending me toppling over my own feet as I fail to catch myself before falling to the floor. My ankle twists, and I scrape my arm against a nearby table, but I don’t allow myself a second to wince before getting up to take off running again. I just need to make it to the door. I can see my way out of here within reach, just a few feet away, as I push club patrons out of my path. If I can just make it onto the street, then there will be people around who will see these guys trying to hurt me. And since the mafia is notoriously careful about not being seen or getting caught, I don’t think they’ll try to mess with me out in the public space.
But just as soon as I reach the exit, the sound of a shot fired makes me freeze in place. It’s a trauma reaction that I still haven’t been able to shake, even after all the time that’s passed. Most people would take off like a bat out of hell when they hear a shot fired, but my reaction is the exact opposite. Instead of running or ducking out of the way, I freeze. It’s as if I’m standing there reliving the whole thing again, holding my mom’s hand as her shirt pools with blood and her body crumbles to the ground.
The nightclub is now so silent that you could hear a pin drop. The only sound is of heavy footsteps coming toward me. When I move again, I lift my hand to my chest to feel if there’s a pool of warm blood there. To my surprise, I haven’t been shot anywhere at all. It was a warning shot, and it worked to prevent me from reaching the door. I turn my head to see the mafia boss walking slowly toward me. One of his men is at his side with his gun drawn. The door hasn’t gone anywhere; it’s still right within my reach, but now it’s locked by two bouncers who fill the width of the doorframe with their broad shoulders. If I wanted to go anywhere now, I’d have to get through them first.
“Leaving so soon?” the man asks as he steps closer. “But we’re just starting to have some fun. Do you know what we do with cops here?”
Laughter erupts all around me, and the music suddenly plays again. I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but I know it’s not going to be good.