Lost Girls(52)

He chuckled, a humorless sound. “It’s obvious you’re not taking your Pink Lightning. Just open it, okay? People are watching us. Make sure you act like you love it.”

It rested on my palm, so light it almost felt empty. I slid a glance toward Dylan. He stood with his back against the wall, about twenty feet away, his attention focused on the current fight. Is this what patrons did? Give black boxes filled with drugs to the teams they supported, sharing in the victory when we won, reprimanding us when we lost? And if so, what were the reprimands like?

I thought about Janie Deluca, here tonight despite the fact that I’d beaten her pretty badly yesterday. Was she trying to get back in her patron’s good graces, hoping he’d supply her with Pink Lightning again? Was her addiction that bad?

My thumb flipped the catch on the box and the lid opened slowly, the contents glittering beneath the moving spotlights. It caught my breath, it was so lovely. My eyes widened and my lips froze in a silent O. A delicate chain held a white gold swan, her body crusted with tiny diamonds. She was perfect.

“Holy wow,” I whispered.

“Here, let me put it on you. You won’t be fighting anymore tonight and everyone needs to see that you’ve done a good job.” He took the chain and fastened it around my neck, his fingers warm against my skin for a moment, his breath close to my ear. “Be careful,” he warned in a low whisper. “Don’t get separated from your team tonight. Okay? Last thing I need is for you to go missing again.”

I nodded, a chill running over me. Was this what he had really wanted to tell me? That I was still in danger? I swept a cautious glance over the crowds, pretending that his words hadn’t put me on edge. “Thank you,” I said.

He bowed his head, then he silently led me back to Dylan. Once my hand was in Dylan’s, my patron took a position against the wall, watching the crowd, his gaze returning to me from time to time. He stayed there for the rest of the evening, quiet and stoic, like a sentry on a high wall, watching the horizon for an approaching army.

...

Dylan’s hand was in mine, his lips brushing my cheek and neck, his breath hot against my skin. The fingers of his left hand toyed with my new necklace, causing it to cast tiny rainbows when the lights flickered overhead. Another fight, the fourth since I’d walked through the door, raged in the center of the steamy room, blow after blow feeding the hungry crowd, all of us getting a surge of excitement from the chanting. I had the surreal feeling we were warriors, ready for battle.

“You shouldn’t be here tonight,” he murmured in my ear.

“I know.” I sighed. I couldn’t tell him that I’d just gotten the same lecture from my patron or that I’d had some sort of meltdown on the stage, seeing Komodo turn into Nicole Hernandez. A sick feeling wormed through my gut. I’d never fought against Nicole, I was certain of it. She was taller than I was and she had to be in a different weight class. But I must have seen her fight before—that had to be where that memory came from.

“You’ve never lost a fight. Did you know that?” Dylan asked.

“Lauren told me.” My gaze kept drifting back to the stage and the unending battles that both repulsed and attracted me.

“Your opponents would love to get you when you’re weak, so promise me you won’t come back here if you’re injured or not feeling well.”

“I promise,” I said. I thought that once I came to a Phase Two rave, I’d know what I’d been doing this past year and that I’d be able to walk away from it. I’d be able to close that chapter and move on. But I could tell by the way Dylan was talking that we both knew I wasn’t going to be able to do that.

Unless my memory of the kidnapping came back.

Then I probably wouldn’t want to leave the house.

“Do you think the people who kidnapped me might be here?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“I don’t know.” He turned to face me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. You don’t remember who it was, do you?”

I shook my head.

“Well, it’s no secret you lost your memory,” he said. “Whoever took you probably doesn’t want to take a chance on you seeing them again. You might recognize them.”

“That’s true,” I said. Already some of my memories had been triggered by meeting Janie and seeing Nicole’s photo. And then there was that creepy vision I had of Nicole getting the crap beaten out of her. I fought the shudder that crept over my shoulders, making my arms shake.

“So, they might be laying low,” Dylan said. “Or maybe they never planned on coming back.”

I remembered those photos Bennet had placed on the table in front of me, the other girls who had gone missing. Nicole had been left in a ditch, just like me. “They’re not finished,” I confessed. “There are other girls missing and there will probably be more. Unless—” I paused, thinking.

“Unless what?” he asked, his gray eyes searching mine.

“Unless we can find a way to stop them.”

His skin turned pale and his eyes widened. “No. Definitely not. You are not going after the scumbags who kidnapped you. Promise me you’ll forget about that idea—”

I bit my lip and gave him a half-nod, then fixed my attention back on the stage. I couldn’t talk to him about this. He wasn’t going to change his mind and neither was I. I didn’t really like the idea, but it looked like I might have to go after my kidnappers by myself.