you wanted me to move in before, and now you want me to leave? Dax . . .”
“Move in. Leave. As long as it’s together, who cares?”
“Can we focus on this right now? You were freaking out only days ago about Bennett and telling Peter, and now you’ve got this going. What if the cops come looking for Bennet?”
“It’ll take them a while to figure it out. We’ll be long gone by then.”
That’s what he thinks.
“What about paper trails? They’re going to be led to this house eventually, and everything you have here will lead them to you. You’ll never be able to come back. You’re not thinking about the big picture. You told me if they look, they’re going to find what they need.”
He stares at me. “That’s not for you to worry about. All I need you to do is help me. Help me get these women sold.”
“You want me to . . . help you?” I swallow, my stomaching twisting.
“Yes.”
“Can we get out of here? I don’t feel well.”
He nods, and just as he’s about to step out, a woman stumbles up to him. They’re all attractive women—not stunning, but they’re not bad to look at. The one who comes over to us is high as a kite, and clearly drunk. She smiles at Dax and puts her hand on his arm, slurring, “Where have you been, big boy?”
He puts on the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen and gently takes her shoulder in his hand. “I’ve been getting some supplies. I wouldn’t want my girls to miss out.”
She giggles. “You’re so nice. I can’t believe we found you. We’re lucky.”
Honey, you’re not lucky. You’re fucked.
“You should stay. Party with us?” she asks.
“I will, I promise. But right now I’ve got to get some things. I’ll have you all brought down some food soon. What would you like?”
“Pizza!” she cries, throwing a hand in the air.
“Pizza it is.” He turns, leading me out of the room. The door is closed and locked, and that’s that. Those women, even if they start to fight, aren’t getting out of there. What if, though, they do figure it out and band together? He’d never be able to take more than fifty women down. Has he even considered that? I’m not sure I want to ask, because quite honestly, the answer will probably terrify me.
I just want to get out of here.
I need to get the hell out before my composure cracks and I lose it.
I need to get Alarick.
The club.
And we need to fix this.
Now.
I HAVE TO WAIT FOR a lift into the club, and I’m like a cat on hot bricks as I do. When one finally arrives, I get in and order the older member to take me there as quickly as possible. He does and the second we’re safe, I launch out of the truck and run inside. It’s nighttime now, and the guys are clearly having some sort of party because there are skimpy women walking around everywhere.
Great.
I shove through the people to find Alarick standing at the bar, Briella by his side, laughing with Cohen. They’ve got beers in their hands, and they seem to be having a grand old time. That’s about to change.
I shove past a woman who is currently making out with Kendric by the bar. She’s got her hands all over him, and he’s got a handful of her ass. No doubt they’re going to disappear into a room very soon. Or not. I’m fairly certain these women don’t care. That’s what they’re here for—a good time, not a long time.
I finally make it to Alarick, and the moment he sees me, the smile falls from his face.
“Waverly, what’s wrong?”
“We need to talk. Now.”
He nods, and we’re out of the bar and into his office in a matter of minutes. Cohen comes in too. Briella shuts the door and locks it, and then they all look to me.
“He’s lost his mind,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “He’s got women, a lot of fucking women. Alarick, there’s got to be over fifty. He’s going to sell the lot of them, make a big profit, and disappear until they can find another cop and the heat off Bennett is gone. He’s got them all locked in this basement and . . . oh god, he’s just feeding them drugs and alcohol. He’s promising them all this amazing stuff . . .”
“Slow down,” Cohen says, handing me a bottle of whiskey. “You’re