I waited. I kept my hand braced on the door handle of the taxi. When the bigger bouncer controlling the rope moved to open it again, I threw the door open and ran without pause.
I ran as fast as I could past the rope and straight through into the entrance. “Oi!” I heard a bouncer shout behind me, but I kept running. I couldn’t stop yet. I ran past the cloakroom and till, following the pounding dance music until I entered the main body of the club. It was packed and dark and wall-to-wall with dancing people. I slipped into the throng, knowing the bouncers would be searching the entire club for me.
I searched around me, trying to find my bearings. The three-floored interior looked like a theatre or opera house, but with dancers and a DJ on the main stage. There were go-go dancers in cages, and the bars teemed with people buying drinks. But then I saw someone in a suit enter a back door near the stage. A bouncer opened the door, and as the light shone on the man in the suit’s face, recognition hit. Charlie. It was Charlie Adley.
Hope carried me forward. I pushed through the dancers and tried to think how to get into the door. But a higher power must have figured I was owed a boon—a fight broke out next to the bouncer, and he was drawn into the fray, leaving the door on its latch.
I ran again, using the last of my energy to get through the door. I shut it behind me, hearing the lock click into place, and winced at the bright fluorescent light. My side started to throb with more intensity, and as I looked down, I noticed blood seeping from my side. I’d been stabbed? I didn’t remember being stabbed. Had it happened in the stairwell when they had beaten me? I thought I had blacked out …
Feeling light-headed, I rushed down the corridor. I passed a storeroom door, but there were no offices. I climbed a set of stairs at the end of the hallway, praying I would make it to the top before collapsing. Muffled voices came from behind one of the doors. I climbed the steps, trying to ignore the pain slicing through my ribs, the swelling of my lips and the energy that seemed to be draining more and more by the second.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw Arthur’s name on one of the doors and headed in that direction. The voices grew louder as I approached. My hand fell on the doorknob and I turned it, managing to throw the door open. There was a flurry of activity around me, but I didn’t pay it any attention. All I saw was the man behind the desk. A man in a designer suit, with dark hair and bright blue eyes shining behind black-framed glasses.
And despite everything, I felt relief flood me, bringing me light. In this moment, seeing Arthur was as powerful as seeing Christ himself.
I reached my hand toward him and whispered, “Arthur … I’ve found you … I’ve finally found you …”
Then I closed my eyes and succumbed to the dark.
Chapter Seven
ARTHUR
I shot up from my seat and moved around my desk, pushing it the fuck out of my way. Charlie, Eric, Vinnie and Freddie had their guns out and targeted on Cheska the minute she bust through the door. I bent down, rolled her over and saw blood pouring onto her dress. She was knocked out, her lip split and her cheek bruised, but fuck, even in this state she was fucking beautiful. But her injuries … her fucking injuries …
Fire flared inside me. Someone had hurt her. Someone had fucking hit her. I ripped the dress in two to find a stab wound in her side. “Ring the doctor. Have him come to my house,” I ordered Charlie and lifted Cheska into my arms.
I had fucking Cheska Harlow-Wright in my arms again.
I hadn’t seen her in over a year, and now she was in my motherfucking arms, bleeding out and beaten to a bastard pulp. “Call the fucking driver to the back exit,” I instructed Eric as I burst into the corridor and raced down the stairs. I heard footsteps following behind me.
“Cheska? This is the bird you were fucking all that time?” Eric asked. I ignored him and rushed to the back exit, kicking it open with my foot. The car was already there.