Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Right.” Blue balls for me then. But I’ll deal. My boner will go down once I’m focused on playing the role of the Ace. Especially if another older guy comes on to me. “How much time do we have?”
She checks her watch. “None. The doors should be opening as we speak.”
Damn. Time really does fly when you’re in the company of a beautiful woman.
It’s been a full fucking day. Only a few hours ago I was swinging down a hotel balcony on a rope of bedsheets. Then I stabbed a guy in the eye with a fountain pen.
But like I told Bianca at the library, I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant meeting her. Caring for her. Loving her. Making love with her.
She gives me one more smooch on the cheek, her eyes fiery. “You’re on, Ace.”
I kiss her hand. “Yes, my Queen.”
She grins and then pushes me out of her dressing room. I quickly—but not too quickly—make a beeline to the Clubs section. Mr. Night catches me and his eyes widen temporarily, but then he simply bows his head.
I have a feeling he’s playing a part, too. A part I don’t quite understand, but I’m ninety percent sure he’s on my side. He’ll have to be if we’re going to pull this off.
I glance around the club. Rouge isn’t here, at least as far as I can tell. Maybe she’s at one of her other clubs tonight. I hope so. The night will be a lot less complicated if I don’t have to dodge her the whole time I’m here.
“Ace, over here!” A man calls out.
I look up and meet the gaze of a middle-aged man sitting in one of the green leather chairs in Clubs smoking a cigarette.
It’s showtime.
23
BIANCA
It’s showtime.
I open my dressing room door and march over to the stage in Hearts. My band—minus Pierce still—is waiting. They greet me not with smiles but with stony stares.
They know I’m to blame, at least in part, for Pierce’s disappearance. Best case scenario, he was fired. Worst case, he’s pushing up daisies in some field by the airport.
Just before I ascend the steps to the stage, Jack waylays me, his eyes wide.
He can’t speak, of course. We’re on Aces property.
But I place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to make sure you’re safe when you get back to the hotel tonight.”
He presses his lips together.
“Hey, Jack!” a patron shouts.
He glances her way, nodding, and then turns back to me.
“I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He nods slowly and then attends to the patron.
Jack doesn’t know the whole truth, and I don’t intend to tell him. He knows he might be in danger tonight, but he doesn’t know about the organ harvesting plot.
I take a deep breath, paste a smile on my face, and walk up to the stage.
First set went well. Not my best, but my mind is otherwise occupied tonight.
Jack is milling about nearby. I grab his hand and drag him into my dressing room. Once the door is closed, I grab his shoulders. “So tell me. What have you been told to do once you finish up with your shift tonight?”
Jack swallows, scanning the room.
“Don’t worry, there aren’t any hidden cameras or mics. You can speak freely.”
Though now I’m wondering if that’s actually the case. Rouge told me there were no security cameras in my dressing room, just as there are none in the private suite. But Chet knew Harrison and I had slept together in the private suite the night we met. So I’m taking a big fucking grain of salt with everything she tells me.
But for right now, I need Jack to at least think he can speak freely.
“I was told they’d give me a one-week grace period at the Caterpillar Hotel. By that point I’d have to secure lodging elsewhere and start my new life.”
“So they’re expecting you to stay there tonight.”
“Right. I figured I’d have at least the night after my final shift, since the club stays open so late. The whole week is generous, if I’m being honest.”
“And they told you to stay there tonight?”
“Yeah. I was told the earliest I should check out is tomorrow morning, but that I had a whole week to get my affairs in order.” He crosses his arms. “Most of the waitstaff I’ve seen go have left pretty quickly. I don’t think anyone has ever stayed the whole week.”
I nod, calculating in my head. If they told Jack he could check out tomorrow, then they’re likely planning to do away with him tonight.
At this point, we can assume that every server here in Aces—or any of Rouge’s other clubs—faces the same fate. The same for any patron who crosses my sister. It’s not as if the demand for organs will go down. Every day, people get older and need more complex medical care. Rouge isn’t going to stop unless it stops being profitable for her. She has an unlimited quantity of young, healthy organs at her polished fingertips.