Embrace the Darkness (The Maura Quinn Series Book 1) - Ashley N. Rostek Page 0,98

I was getting ready to cave soon. Unbeknownst to him, I was too stubborn to quit.

Both Stefan and Jamie had texted, checking on me. I hadn't been entirely forthcoming as to what I was doing today. Stefan had said he trusted me to handle this. I wasn’t convinced. My gut had told me he would still meddle. So I'd lied by omission and said I was out doing a little shopping.

“Isn’t that your guy?” Dean asked, nodding in McLoughlin’s direction as I paused in the middle of rubbing my stiff neck. Forgetting about the binoculars in my hand, I squinted in that direction. Sure enough, there was Mark Ferguson crossing the damn street toward his gold '67 El Camino.

I made quick work of starting my car, shifted it out of park, and pulled out into traffic the same time Mark did. We followed him through the city.

“He’s getting on the interstate,” Dean said, eyes glued to the El Camino three cars ahead of us.

Mark took the ramp heading south on I-95. We passed exit after exit and as we got closer to the Housatonic River, a knot started to form in the pit of my stomach.

“He’s heading into De Luca territory,” Dean voiced what I had already concluded.

Quinn territory took up most of the New England area. We had family and businesses spread out across the states from New Haven to the top of Main. Within our territory, there were gangs like the Aryans and other smaller crime families like the Bratva who coexisted alongside us but still paid homage to Stefan. The Italians ruled over New York, New Jersey, and a small corner of Connecticut. The Housatonic River was the line drawn in the earth that separated our two territories and we were about to cross it.

Mark’s destination was a strip club called Show 'n Tail in Bridgeport, southwest of the river. What the hell is he doing here? I pulled into a spot on the opposite end of the lot from where Mark had parked. Both Dean and I watched as he went through the front entrance.

“It’s kind of early for a lap dance, isn’t it?” I mumbled.

Dean snorted. “What time of day do you think is acceptable for a lap dance?” His caustic tone made it clear he was making fun of me, but seriously? It was one in the afternoon. Wasn’t that a little creepy or was I just being a judgmental prude? Whatever. My point was, I didn’t think he’d drive into another city just for a lap dance.

I chewed on my lip, debating what to do. Movement toward the back of the club caught my attention. Standing by the back door was a couple of girls in robes. They were standing with a bouncer, talking while they smoked. An idea popped into my head and before I lost my nerve, I unbuckled my seatbelt.

“What are you doing?”

I glanced at Dean as I reached for the door handle. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes, call Jamie or Louie.” I had the door open and a leg out when he grabbed ahold of my wrist.

“You’re not going in there,” he said firmly.

“I have to find out why he’s here. If—and that’s a big if—anything happens, it’s better if you stay out here and call for help.” I shoved his hand off. He let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s going to be fine,” I said before closing the door.

I approached the girls and the bouncer with a small smile on my face. “Hi.” The three of them stopped talking and eyed me curiously. “Today’s my first day…” The bouncer didn’t even hesitate in opening the door and held it open for me to enter. It must have been the wig.

Stepping inside, I was immediately greeted by loud music and a dressing room with a huge mirror taking up the left wall and lockers taking up the right. I had romanticized what a stripper's dressing room looked like in my head. I'd imagined vanities full of makeup, with lightbulb framed mirrors and racks full of skimpy costumes. This room was barren, and I found myself a little disappointed. I got over it quickly when I spotted a door at the other end of the room. I beelined for it and pushed it open slightly. “The Beautiful People” by Marilyn Manson filled my ears as I peeked out into the dark club. The showroom had dark mood lighting, multiple platforms with poles, a bar surrounded by stools, and