Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 157460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“There was a woman in his room,” Code said, taking the screen capture he’d printed out from Player and handing it to Steele. “And he doesn’t have any headache.”
“Not only that, but he’s functioning,” Preacher added.
“I was with him last night,” Maestro said. “He was worse than I’ve ever seen him.”
Steele glanced down at the photograph and then at the frozen picture of the woman with Destroyer standing over her. “Tell me about her. And how did she get into your room?”
Player tried not to look at the tears on Zyah’s face. That just plain undid him. “At first, I thought she was part of my crazy alternate reality, although it wasn’t my normal fucked-up version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. There was Middle Eastern music playing in my room. I recognized the instruments. Candles were lit with very distinctive essential oils burning. She was in the middle of my floor, belly dancing. She wore a belt with layers of coins and tiny bells around her hips over her blue jeans, and an ankle bracelet with bells. God, she was gorgeous. Every movement was flowing and graceful.”
Steele took another look at the picture in his hand. “I want you to go sit down, Player. You look good, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it easy. When you use your psychic ability, you actually can injure your brain, which is why you get such horrendous headaches. I’m not saying this woman doesn’t have the capacity to heal you. Obviously, something happened, but I still want you to take it easy.” He gestured back toward the common room.
Player and the others made their way from the control room to the comfortable chairs. Player found he was grateful to sit down. He wasn’t nearly as steady on his feet as he thought he was.
“Tell me about her. What’s her name? Where is she from?” Steele demanded.
Player sighed. “She said her name was Zyah, but I think that’s the name she uses when she’s dancing. I didn’t get her last name or a number. I was hoping Breezy did. Preacher remembered that Breezy talked to her last night. She let her into the room.”
Steele nodded. “I remember. Breezy texted me and asked me if it would be okay if she used one of the empty rooms to study. She had two job interviews this morning and had promised her grandmother she would help out a friend’s granddaughter by being a designated driver. She was with another woman. Winters. Francine Winters. Heidi vouched for her. Your Zyah was Francine’s designated driver. Breezy told Zyah she could use the room.”
“Did Breezy get a last name?”
“No, it was Francine Winters that Heidi knew. But I can text Heidi.” Steele pulled out his cell phone immediately and texted the waitress from their bar. Heidi was completely loyal to their club.
“While you’re waiting for Heidi to get back to you, I’ll just run the rest of the security tape and see if I can get the car she’s driving and maybe a license plate,” Code said.
Player tapped out a beat on his thigh before realizing it was an Arabic rhythm from the night before. He dropped his palm on his leg and rubbed, missing her. Needing to feel her skin against his. He kept from rubbing his temple by sheer will. When he looked up, Steele was watching him closely. It was tap out beats on his thigh, count in his head or build bombs in his head to keep himself sane. He had bad habits. Anything he did in his head was better than these outward “tells” that his fellow Torpedo Ink brethren could see.
“She got in your head.”
There wasn’t much use in denying it. “Yeah. She did. I need to find out how real it all was.” He rubbed his thigh again to keep from pressing his fingers to his temples. The headache was coming back, just there, beyond his reach. He didn’t want to know it was close.
“Czar drilled it into us never to sleep with one of our marks. Or someone we were just getting some relief from. I didn’t feel that way about her, but I’d gone so many hours without sleep and my mind couldn’t tell what was real anymore. I kicked her out, said some things maybe I can’t take back. I don’t know, Steele, but she was crying when she left. There was a thousand dollars on my nightstand, and she just left it there.”
Steele sighed. “You tried to give that girl a thousand dollars?”
“I’m afraid so. And I told her to leave. Thought the brothers paid her to be with me. Said that too. The look on her face, man, that wasn’t good. Didn’t remember it until I woke up this afternoon and realized it was the best dream I’d ever had in my life—except it wasn’t a dream.”