He had no clue what had happened in the club. All he'd seen from his position staking out the area was Marina crossing the street and going into Calloway's. He didn't know the danger I'd been in, or what she'd done for me.
Lifting my hand, I perched my finger on the power button. “Blood Brothers. That's all we can trust. Nothing changes.”
Tapping the device off, I was left to wallow in my thoughts.
- Chapter 35 -
Marina
––––––––
The name cut through the air of the club and stabbed my guts.
Frank.
The kid behind the bar had mentioned Frank.
Whoever the gangly guy was, he was talking to Jacob like he knew him and rambling about things that sounded like a flood of clues for the lock-box of my life.
This man had answers.
Jacob was sitting there, stiff as a mountain. I was close enough to hear the conversation, but I'd slowed my approach. At first, I'd been relieved to see Jacob. It meant that the guy I was after was really nearby.
The pain in his blue eyes when he'd seen me had cooled my excitement.
I had lied to Kite when I said I wouldn't come. Was that why Jacob looked so hurt? The lines that had crawled over his frown were unnerving. I had the oddest sensation that he'd been waiting for me.
Forget that, I told myself firmly. Listen to what they're talking about! But I couldn't, not easily. The fear that was permeating off of Jacob was probably invisible to others. I'd seen a lot of the faces he could make. Facets, as he'd called them. Fear was a weird one. For some reason, this kid behind the bar was freaking him out.
There are moments where you have to decide to take advantage of a situation, or to give it up for the greater good. My greater good was a clean-cut man with clever hands and a fierce smirk.
I hated that his delicious lips were stuck in a scowl.
Jacob's eyes moved. They darted down, I saw the white plastic on the bar peeking from under the kid's pointed fingertips. His ID? Yeah, that was it. Jacob was trying to get his identification back.
My intuition warned that if the bartender saw his ID, Jacob was fucked.
Without another heart beat passing me by, I acted.
Jogging around an empty table, I snatched a glass that was half-full of some unknown drink. I did it all in mere seconds; jacket off, glass at the ready. The kid was my target.
Pretending to stumble, I cried out. Shooting my torso over the bar, I splashed him and me with the drink.
His eyes shot wide, hands flying upwards. Before he could get angry, I started apologizing. “I'm so sorry! My foot caught on the chair and I just—I'm really sorry!”
Jamming my hip towards Jacob, I somehow missed him. He was already standing, good. I tossed him the quickest of looks. I couldn't tell his expression, but I did see the bluetooth.
He'd been talking to Kite.
Jacob took his ID and vanished through the crowd. Something was wrong, I struggled to understand.
The guy was drying himself off, looking more embarrassed than angry. “It's fine! Uh, it's fine. No worries.” His stare flicked to my chest. Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. This was ridiculous, but it had worked.
“Guess I'm just clumsy,” I laughed. Reaching out, I offered my hand. “I'm M... Melony, by the way.” Don't give him your real name. That was close.
Beaming, he dropped the towel and shook my fingers. “Juice.” Was that his name or... what he was offering me? “Here, let me get you a new drink, Melony. On the house.”
I didn't want a drink. I wanted information. “Thanks,” I beamed, grabbing the glass and sniffing it. I was hesitant to put my lips on the cup. Sure, I'd watched him pour it, but still. “Listen,” I said, peering over my shoulder to confirm Jacob was gone. “I wanted to ask, that guy you were talking to...”
“Dennis?” Juice blinked, following my eyes.
“Right. Dennis.” A fake name? “How do you know him?”
The skinny kid was getting cagey. Avoiding my eyes, no matter how close I leaned, he cleared his throat. “Uh, listen. I just got this job, and I'd rather not... I don't want to lose it. You feel me?”
I didn't. “Sure. I just want to know about him, why can't you—”
Lifting a hand, he cut me off with a sharp motion. On a napkin, he scribbled something down. “How about you call me sometime. You're just my type, I think we'd have a blast.” Juice winked, his angled smirk turning my stomach.
Shoving the napkin in my purse, I sighed. He was freaking out, clearly this wasn't the place to grill him. “Alright. Can you just tell me one little thing?” Waiting for him to nod, I crooked a finger and leaned in. “I overheard you and Dennis talking. You knew a guy named Frank? Frank Montego, by chance?” Juice's eyebrows flew to his hairline. My heart was dancing. “You did. Okay. Who is the other guy you mentioned? Hecko, I think it was?
I'd heard him say it at least twice. Was Hecko my mystery murderer?