Hunter at first suggested we go and report what I’ve seen to the police—a friend of his—but I wasn’t too keen because then they’d know I was the one responsible and I was frightened they’d come after me. So I told Hunter where I heard them messing in the locker room and although he thinks it will be sealed up by now because Simon knows I saw them or at least heard them, he’d still check it out and keep an eye on Simon now that he has more to go on. Hopefully they’ll be able to catch him red-handed now so that they won’t need me. I can hope anyway.
Against my better judgment, and Hunters advice, I’m heading into Kenza this morning to talk to Ruben. I need to tell him what I saw last night and explain why I can’t be around the club anymore until the trouble is gone. I’m practically quivering in my boots at the thought of bumping into Simon again, but it’s where Ruben lives and he isn’t answering his phone so I don’t really have much choice. Although I do sigh in relief when I spot Hunter’s bike parked against the wall, outside the back doors of the club.
With a deep inhale and exhale, I pull the doors to the club open and for the first time ever; I’m met with silence. What’s going on? This early the cleaning crew is usually in and the humming from the floor buffer would hit me the minute I’d step inside, but not today. Today I’m greeted with silence, which has me worried.
Moving toward Ruben’s office there seems to be some sort of meeting going on as I can hear muffled voices through his door. Their words aren’t clear, but if I’m not mistaken Lucien is in there and maybe Ramon.
Instead of * footing around outside the door, I need to get in there with them before I run into Simon. On that frightening note, I raise my hand and knock on the door, rather than just go barging in, which is what I would normally do.
“Come in,” Ruben roars making me practically jump out of my skin. He doesn’t sound in a good mood today. Hopefully it isn’t because I left the way I did last night.
Pushing the door open, the smile I’d been wearing slowly slips when I meet the anger in Ruben’s eyes. The room is quiet with Ramon leaning against the back wall and Lucien slouched in one of the chairs opposite his brother’s desk. He doesn’t look too good.
“Um,” I swallow, which is difficult as my mouth has gone dry as sandpaper, “I can come back later.”
I need to find Hunter. Surely he hasn’t told Ruben about where I spent last night. It was completely innocent.
As I start backing toward the door, Ruben jumps up and shouts, “No,” startling me. I freeze with my hand on the doorknob.
“This is about you. I want answers.”
Frowning, I meet his gaze and my heart starts to shatter. All I see is anger behind his eyes, nothing more or nothing less. I haven’t done anything to warrant that look. My thought process has shut down because nothing is coming to me. I don’t know what he wants me to say or do.
“Why Rosie? Did they tell you to distract me by fucking me?” He snarls.
What?
“I don’t know—” He cuts me off.
“Oh come on,” he stands and walking around his desk he clenches his fists, “we know,” he whispers into my ear.
His cologne wraps around me and all I want to do is wrap myself around him. To hold on until he tells me this is all a joke.
“We found the sugar, Rosie,” Ramon tells me.
“Sugar? What sugar? I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
I reach out to Ruben and slide my fingers between one of the gaps on his button down, but he knocks my hand away abruptly. “Don’t touch me,” he snaps and walks back behind his desk out of reach.
My wrist has started to throb with how roughly he pushed me away so I cradle it against my chest with my other hand. And that’s when I catch a glimpse of my Ruben—the flick of concern in his eyes. It doesn’t last though.
I’m starting to get angry myself. I’ve no idea what this is about. I’ve no idea what the hell ‘sugar’ is supposed to be. And this is just ridiculous. My emotions are all over the place right now, but I feel like stamping my feet as a child would.
“Okay,” I start, “for some reason you all think I know what you’re talking about, but newsflash here, I don’t. I don’t have a fuckin’ clue. It’s obviously something bad for you to stand there and accuse me of ‘fucking you’ so you’re distracted. You know me better than anyone and to say that...” He really hurt me with that comment so I take a few seconds to pull myself together. “And what the hell is ‘sugar?’”
I swipe at the few tears that have escaped and wait for one of them to answer me as I directed the last question at them all.
“Rosie,” Lucien says, “we did a locker search this morning and a small bag of heroin was found inside yours. Sugar or Brown Sugar. It was stuffed inside the toe of one of your sneakers.”
I gasp in shock. How the hell? Slumping against the door, I try and get my mind around what Lucien has just told me. I’ve never done drugs in my life and to be accused of this, especially by the man I love is more than I can take.
The tears I’ve tried to keep hidden flow down my face as I watch Ruben, watching me.