“Zano—”
“That night,” he said, his eyes looking into mine in a weird way that felt intense and probing. “What were you doin’ at Club?”
My head gave a little confused shake and I asked, “What?”
“That night I apologized,” he gave me more info and I, unusually belatedly, sensed the danger and my body stiffened. His hand at my waist wrapped around it to hold me to him as his fingers at my neck dug in as he kept talking. “What were you doin’ at Club?”
“Why are you asking this?” I queried.
“Why aren’t you answering?” he returned.
My brows drew together. “Because it’s none of your business.”
He ignored that and tried a different tactic.
“Were you with a man?”
“No.”
“A friend?”
“No, Zano,” I snapped. “Why does it matter?”
“’Cause you weren’t with anybody. You stayed a few minutes after I left you, took off to the bathrooms and never came back. I know. I watched for you.”
He watched for me.
Nice.
“But you disappeared,” he finished.
“So?”
“The exit’s at the front,” he informed me.
“So?”
“That means you exited out back.”
“Jeez, Zano!” I clipped, pulling out of his hold, taking a step back and putting my hands on my hips. “What’s with the interrogation? Who cares how I exited Club two months ago?”
He ignored my question—and my outburst—and kept at me.
“A few minutes after you took off toward the bathroom, some guy shot outta that hall lookin’ freaked, as well as clearly so stoked on blow it’s a wonder his heart didn’t explode. You know that guy?”
“I know I’m not a big fan of being woken up in the middle of the night and getting treated to random twenty questions about a night that happened months ago.”
“Just sayin’, babe, you’ll get a very not random twenty questions if Benito Valenzuela decides to make a meal outta you.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
Oh shit.
That was the dealer who had his hooks into Garden Girl’s brother.
“Yeah,” he whispered, examining my face carefully. “Though, if Valenzuela gets more interested in you, you might not be available for twenty questions.”
Okay, somehow Ren had cottoned on to my activities, and I knew this was definitely not good. He might not be a member of the Hot Bunch, but he was a full-blooded Italian hot guy member of a crime family. So I was thinking his rabid alpha behavior either equaled or rivaled any member of the Hot Bunch, including Luke, who, in my opinion, was totally OTT.
And the Hot Bunch guys had a definite aversion to the women in their lives being around danger.
“How do you know this shit?” I asked quietly.
“Dom gets around,” Ren answered immediately. “Had a meeting with him tonight. He doesn’t know about us, but we share an acquaintance with your brothers. Both of them. I think you get why, without me explaining, we tend to keep our eye on their activities. And tonight, in passing, Dom says that he’s heard you’re getting around.”
Fuck.
Not good.
Ren kept talking.
“He thinks you’re doin’ shit for Lee. He heard a coupla nights ago you were with Darius Tucker in one of the bars Valenzuela’s girls work. Says he also heard Tucker was makin’ some enquiries about some new talent Valenzuela has for sale. Sweet piece. Catholic schoolgirl type.”
Crap.
Again not good.
Ren didn’t know a little. He knew a lot.
He leaned slightly into me, his eyes no less intent or probing. “The real kind of Catholic schoolgirl type. In other words, somehow her shit got fucked, and this is not an unusual situation for Lee Nightingale to sink his teeth into. Problem is, even Valenzuela thinks Lee swung you out there, and this guy is a lunatic. Anyone else, even a whiff Lee’s involved, they steer clear. This guy, he’s likin’ that your piece is on the chess board. Thinks it’s interesting. Wants to keep his eye on that shit, which means he wants to keep an eye on you.”
I kept my mouth shut, but mentally added a phone call to Darius to discuss this unpleasant news first thing in the morning.
Ren kept going.
“Dom told me and Vito. Vito is not about swingin’ women’s asses out there. He knows you, likes you, and if he gets in the mood to blow, he blows. So it’s late and he still doesn’t hesitate pickin’ up the phone and tearin’ your brother a new asshole. Problem is, Lee has no clue what the fuck he’s talkin’ about.”
This also wasn’t good.
“Figure, though,” Ren went on. “He intends to find out.”
That was a definite.
“I—” I began.
“What were you doin’ at Club, Ally?”
“I was—”
“And what the fuck were you doin’ in a bar that Valenzuela works with Darius fuckin’ Tucker?”