“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.”
“When you decide to fuck things up, you’re right up there with me, brother,” Steele said. He glanced down at his cell phone. “This isn’t good. Heidi says Francine Winters is a bitch from hell and that unfortunately, Heidi owed her a favor. Francine insisted she wanted to come to a Torpedo Ink party, and Czar okayed it even after Heidi warned him Francine was out to hook up with a member any way she could. Heidi doesn’t know Zyah, but says she seemed way too nice to be friends with Francine. Heidi said she’ll ask Francine for Zyah’s last name, number and address.”
Code returned shaking his head. “She must have parked off the lot and down the street somewhere out of sight. She walked outside the gates and disappeared.”
“Great. It just can’t be simple,” Preacher said.
Player couldn’t help himself. He texted Destroyer to ask him if he’d gotten Zyah’s last name and what they’d talked about. He added that he’d explain why he needed the information when he saw him in person.
“Listen to this bullshit,” Steele said just as Destroyer shoved open the door from outside and strode in. “Heidi says Francine says Zyah is a first-class stuck-up bitch with some kind of hoity-toity job that pays really well. She turns her nose up to everyone just because she has her master’s in something. No one likes her, and don’t get involved with her. She’s very judgy. She wouldn’t have brought her, but she needed someone sober to drive her, although it turns out she didn’t after all. A Torpedo Ink member, Axle, from the Trinity chapter, apparently gave her his cell number, but she lost it. Heidi says Francine will trade Zyah’s information for Axle’s. Heidi doesn’t believe her. Says no way would Francine ever lose Axle’s number if he gave it to her.”
“What’s going on?” Destroyer asked.
Maestro filled him in while Steele texted Axle asking if he had given Francine his cell number and apprising him of the situation.
“What did you say to her this morning?” Player asked, trying not to sound jealous. Or guilty.
Destroyer had eyes that could look right through a man. He shrugged. “Didn’t like to see her cryin’. If someone hurt her, I wanted to know who. She said she was just tired and afraid she’d blow her interview and she couldn’t find her friend she was supposed to take home. I didn’t believe her, but I let her walk out.”
“At least we know her real name is Zyah,” Code said. “It’s an unusual name. I can work with that. It’s a starting point.”
That didn’t make Player feel much better. He thought of Zyah as his private dancer because he was certain she was an exotic dancer and Zyah was her stage name. That gave him a little bit of an excuse for his bad behavior—at least he told himself it did, even though he knew it was bullshit.
“Axle says Francine is a fuckin’ nightmare and no one should go near her. Thinks she should be blacklisted from any club event, but that’s just his opinion. He didn’t give her his number and hopes he never has to see her again, but he’ll take the hit for his brother if Player needs him to. He can always change his number later,” Steele translated the text.
Player shook his head. “Tell him thanks, but no. We’ll find her another way. There’s got to be another way.”
Destroyer shrugged his massive shoulders. “I can have a word with this bitch Francine. She’ll talk.”
Steele shook his head. “We’re nowhere near that solution yet.”
“Damn, Destroyer, you’re a little bloodthirsty,” Preacher said with a smirk. “I think you’ve been hanging around Savage too long.”
“I don’t hurt women,” he denied. “They’re afraid of me. She won’t be any different. I question her, she’ll answer. I should say, most women are afraid of me. Not the one last night. She wasn’t afraid at all. Looked me right in the eye. She had something about her.”
Player’s head jerked up. “What do you mean by that?”
The others all looked at Destroyer. He had a way of seeing into people immediately.
Destroyer shrugged again. “She’s gentle inside, but steel at the same time. She’s someone who will stand when you need her to. She really feels things, unlike most people, deep down, and once you’re in, you’re there. I felt bad for her. Whatever hurt her, cut deep.”
“Great. That was me,” Player admitted. “I was so gone last night I didn’t know what I was sayin’ or doin’ and I threw her out.”
Destroyer raised his eyebrow. “You had that woman in your room and you told her to leave? You really were all kinds of fucked up.” As always, when he spoke, his voice was mild, a low tone, a bit menacing.
“In his defense,” Maestro said, “Czar drilled it into us never to go to sleep with someone in the room with us. That was how you got killed.”
Destroyer nodded. “Good advice most of the time. Not so much this time. Came in lookin’ for food. Alena didn’t cook this afternoon, did she?” he asked, a hopeful note in his usual expressionless voice.
“She’s at her restaurant,” Maestro said. “She’ll feed you. Anything on the menu. She never charges. The money’s all the same.”
Destroyer shook his head. “I make her uncomfortable. Don’t want to do that in her own place. She loves that restaurant. Sometimes she leaves food in the fridge here.”
“Might be leftovers from last night,” Preacher pointed out.
“Not anything Alena made, though,” Maestro said. “Everyone goes back for seconds.”
“What else do you know about Zyah, Player?” Code asked.
“She loves her grandmother. I got the feeling her grandmother raised her and that she lives close by. Maybe in Sea Haven. She’s definitely from the Middle East.”
“Can you narrow it down a bit?” Code persisted. “Which country?”
Player shook his head. “I’m sorry. She didn’t talk much about her family dynamic. I didn’t either, so I felt like I couldn’t pry. After a while we weren’t talking all that much.”