Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Deal, Willow.”
Ugh, why does he have this effect on me? The feel of his big, slightly calloused hands is like a finger over my clit, a hand tearing my panties from my body. “Okay. Great. Cool.”
He smiles and puts a hand on my lower back as he guides me through Club Dynasty, ducking and dodging drooling old men and rowdy younger men eager to see the beautiful women dance slowly for them.
“There.” I point out to of the dancers Sandee said is a casual friend. She’s mentioned that sometimes they hang out together. “Her name is London.”
The blonde has huge tits, and Joaquin stares at her for a beat. I hold my breath, waiting for that flare of attraction, but it never materializes. “All right. Stay cool,” he instructs as we approach London.
Her gaze flashes with recognition as her blue eyes land on me. “Willow. Hey. What’s up?”
Joaquin pushes me down on the brown leather chair and motions for London to start dancing. “I have some questions.”
London nods and starts to swing her hips in time to the thumping Latin beat drowning out all conversation in the club. “Somethin’ wrong, Willow?”
“I’m looking for Sandee,” I tell her honestly. “I haven’t heard from her, and I’m worried. Really fucking worried.”
Her gaze darts to Joaquin and then back to me. “Me, either. It’s been more than a week, and she’s missed a few shifts.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Joaquin asks, his tone all business as she gives me an energetic lap dance.
London shoves her tits in my face with a sexy shimmy and gives me her back, rolling her hips against my lap. I’m glad the dance customer is me and not Joaquin. London is really pretty and sexy.
“It’s been at least two, maybe three weeks, I think. Nogales came in and bought out the champagne room for the night. He took her with him, and that’s the last time I saw her.”
Fuck. That’s what worries me. “He’s still obsessed with her?”
London nods. “Yes. No other girl will satisfy him, just Sandee.”
Shit. The guy is a psychopath, and he’s been fixated on my friend for months. “Has he been in looking for her?”
London freezes and gives my question honest consideration before she shakes her head. “Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen him either. Damn, Willow. Is she all right?”
“That’s what I plan to find out, London. Thanks for the dance, babe. If I had a dick, it would be rock hard right now.”
She laughs and saunters off to the next customer.
We buy three more lap dances and talk to the club manager, Saul. “Haven’t seen her in a few weeks since she left with Nogales. Figured she was moving up in the world.”
Even the DJ answers our questions. “She left before her last dance with that limping biker dude. Haven’t seen her since, but I only work here part-time,” he admits. “Sorry.”
My shoulders fall in defeat after a dozen interviews turn up not one fucking clue about Sandee’s whereabouts. I smack a palm on the bar and order a shot to calm my nerves.
“Come on,” Joaquin whispers in my ear before leading me out of the club and into the stark sunshine of late afternoon in Southern California. “How are you holding up?”
“Honestly?” I sigh and shake my head. “I’m fucking pissed.” I pace the parking lot as I go over all the stories we just heard from the club employees. “Is it me, or are all their stories a little too in sync?”
His dark brows lift in surprise. “Come again?”
“There’s the truth, and then there’s whatever the fuck that was. It’s like they were all reading from the same damn script.” I stare at him, silently begging him to understand what I’m saying, to tell me he saw it too.
He nods. “Yeah, they were all lying, but what we don’t know is which part they were lying about. Did she leave willingly with that asshole, or did he snatch her while they all looked the other way?”
“Shit,” I mutter. “I hadn’t thought of that. Sandee usually tried to keep the peace with Nogales to keep him from going over the edge.”
Joaquin hands me his spare helmet. “With guys like Nogales, going over the edge is inevitable. Nothing your friend did or didn’t do could stop those urges. Sorry.”
“Thanks,” I grumble and slam the helmet on my head with more force than needed, all because I’m angry. Joaquin takes off, and not even the feel of the wind whipping against my skin can temper my anger, my frustration, and my worry about Sandee’s well-being.
I can’t help but think of all the women and girls found floating in the water near the port lately. Any one of them could be Sandee one of these days, and my heart stills whenever a breaking news alert sounds.