Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
That logic may have cleared some of the suspicion off Dylan, but I still wasn’t sure where Pierre landed in all this.
I decided to cast my net a little further. Maybe I could dig into Pierre and find out what happened that night with Matt.
“So, what’s your criteria for choosing who gets into VIP? I’ve always wondered. Never been able to get in myself.”
“Really? I would have thought you’d have VIP bands raining down on you.”
I pursed my lips and shook my head.
“Well, anyway, it really depends. Whoever we find the cutest, if I’m being honest. We like to have fun at Club Trinity.”
“Is it usually a ton of people back there? Or are things more, like, intimate?”
“Yeah, I would say sometimes it gets intimate. It’s very rare we have less than five partiers back there, though.”
Perfect, Pierre was walking right into the trap I was laying out. “So you’d remember a night when it was only one person, you think?”
“Yeah, that’s only—” Pierre must have realized where I was heading. He clammed up. I noticed Fox was no longer paying attention to the laptop, his attention focused on Pierre instead, his head tilted, his hazel eyes scanning him.
“Pierre.” I leaned over the table. I wasn’t sure how much more time we had alone with him, and I had to take advantage. “I talked to one of the OD victims—you might not know him by name, but he knows you. All three of you. He was in the hospital from an overdose, and he said he didn’t take it himself. I need you to be honest, Pierre. Is there something going on that Fox and I need to know about? Are you taking Dragon? If you’re addicted, we can get you help.”
“I’m not addicted to Dragon.” His eyes turned to sharp daggers. “Do you think an addict could keep this entire thing up and running?” He motioned all around him, to a room that looked like it was in a state of upheaval. “If it weren’t for me, the club would have been shut down long ago, and not because of drugs. This family would have crumbled without me. So no, no I’m not addicted to Dragon.” He stood, slamming the laptop shut. “I think you two should leave now.”
He was defensive. We had options: listen to him and leave, or press and risk shutting all three of them out.
“What’s going on?” Fox asked, standing. He must have decided to press.
Good. I wanted that choice, too. I dropped my voice. “Pierre, be honest with us.” A quick glance at the bedroom door verified it was shut. “We can help.”
Fox, in all his six-foot-something-tall glory, towered above Pierre’s smaller frame even though an entire table’s width separated them. “If you don’t want to get dragged down in this, then be up-front with us. Is anyone at Club Trinity involved with the spread of Dragon?”
“I…” Pierre looked to the bedroom door. I felt like something was going to break, something was going to give.
Instead, there was a loud shout followed by a terrible sounding crack. We all turned, shocked, to the bedroom door.
It was thrown wide open, the doorknob having pierced through the drywall behind it. Dylan had been pushed to the floor, landing on his shoulder. Standing in the doorway was a very pissed-off Lucien, his face flushed red. But it wasn’t his blood pressure I was worried about.
No. It was the onyx black pistol he was holding in his hands, raised and aimed directly at Fox.
Something came over me. I wasn’t letting this happen, not again. I moved to the side, stepping in front of Fox, my hands raised. Fox protested behind me, but I cut him off. “Lucien, we’re out of your hair. Just put the gun down. We’ll leave.”
“Get out.”
The pistol, trained at my chest, momentarily motioned toward the exit before recentering on my chest. I could taste the fear, but I couldn’t acknowledge it. Not now. Had to stay confident. We were getting out of this, and we were going to do it without any guns going off.
Fox and I slowly inched away from the table, toward the door. Dylan was standing now, moving with a shaking hand toward Lucien, love and pain in his eyes. Pierre had his back against a pillar, his eyes pinned to the pistol.
The walk was slow, every inch feeling like a mile. Every step of the way, the pistol followed us, like it was guiding us. I couldn’t stand in front of Fox anymore, so the terrorizing black hole of the barrel jumped between the both of us, Lucien’s eyes filled with anger.
“You two have the balls to come in here and start accusing us of this shit? As if we haven’t been through enough!”
“Lucien, please. Put the pistol down,” said Dylan, his hand on Lucien’s wrist now.