Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(10)

Shit.

She quickly scanned the patrons, searching for Nicole and Amelia. Between several more drinks, songs, and random strangers wanting to dance, the girls must have gotten separated. Pushing through the faceless strangers, Violet tried clearing her thoughts enough to resemble being sober.

Drunk and lost was not a good look on a woman.

Violet scanned the people at the bar, and didn’t recognize the backs of the people or the dresses she knew her friends were wearing. She was just about to turn and go back onto the dance floor, but a buzz coming from inside her small clutch stopped her.

She pulled out her phone, and sighed at the name lighting up the screen.

Nicole’s message scrolled across the touch screen: Near the entrance. Help.

Violet shoved her phone back into the clutch and changed directions toward the front of the club. She found Nicole and Amelia together, but one was looking a hell of a lot worse for wear than the other. Nicole was holding onto their friend, and pushing the hair out of Amelia’s eyes, trying to talk to her.

Amelia wasn’t responding all that well by the looks of it.

Violet knew they had all drank quite a bit, but not that much.

“What happened?” Violet asked, bending down to help straighten Amelia’s short dress.

Nicole huffed as she forced a slurring, confused Amelia to lean against her side. “I don’t know. One minute we were laughing, I danced with a guy and turned my back on her, and the next …”

“She was like this?”

“She was on the floor and some guy was laughing as he tried to pick her up,” Nicole said, scowling.

Violet shuddered at her friend’s implication. “She was fine before?”

“A little drunk. We all are.”

True enough.

“Did she take anything?” Violet asked.

It wouldn’t be such a shock if that’s what Amelia had done. They weren’t entirely innocent. Sometimes, they experimented with different things, but they were always careful about it and stayed together.

Nicole shook her head. “She would have said something. Someone might have dropped something on her. Can we just get her out of here before something else happens?”

That sounded like a good idea.

Violet moved forward, grabbing Amelia’s arm and helping Nicole to move their friend away from the wall. It wasn’t easy, considering Amelia seemed to have the balance of a baby that couldn’t walk.

“You girls need some help?” came a voice from behind them.

Violet glanced back at the person who had asked the question. It was the same fool from earlier, who had tried kissing her neck after she’d told him not to. He had “bad” written all over him—and not in a good kind of way.

“No, we’re—”

Violet’s words cut off when someone slammed into Nicole from the other side of their three-person chain. She went sprawling to the floor, along with her friends. Above the music, people, and someone’s apologies, she heard what sounded like the crunch of glass.

“Shit,” Violet muttered, reaching for Amelia.

Nicole was doing the same, but a thick streak of red dripped down her arm, and she had tears in her eyes. “Someone dropped a glass,” her friend said in explanation.

It looked pretty bad—deep.

Chances were, Nicole needed to get that checked out.

Great.

Like Nicole could read her mind, she said, “Let’s just worry about getting Amelia out of here, okay?”

Violet nodded, and the two got Amelia back on her feet and moving toward the door again.

Unfortunately, a bull of a man stepped in front of them, stopping the girls entirely. His thick, tall build forced Violet to look up at gray eyes and a scowling face. He pointed at Amelia.

“What’s wrong with that one?” he asked.

Violet’s mouth clamped shut.

Nicole spoke instead. “Nothing, she’s drunk.”

“She would have been escorted out already,” the man said.

The hint of an accent colored up the man’s tone, making his words sharp and quick. She didn’t recognize it right away, not with his first question. But with his second, his r’s sort of rolled off his tongue, and that was when Violet knew exactly what accent the man sported.

She had only heard it a couple of times in her life, and never firsthand.

Russian.

“She’s on something, yes?” the man asked.

“No,” Violet argued. “And we’re leaving.”

“You’re not leaving yet. I won’t have the cops showing up here because some girl got mixed up and found herself in the hospital after being at my club.”

Violet straightened, panic swelling in her throat. “We’re taking her—”

He pointed at Nicole. “She is bleeding.”

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Violet really just wanted to get the hell out of there.

“Can we just go?” Nicole asked, her voice betraying her panic, too.

“Yes,” the man said.

Violet let out the breath she’d been holding.

“Shortly,” he added with a cold smile.

Wonderful.

The man jerked his head to the side and said, “Take them to my office, and we’ll go from there.”

Violet didn’t get the chance to ask what he meant before someone was grabbing her arm from behind and separating her from her friends. She chose not to fight against the bull-like man wearing all black as he pulled her along through the curious crowd that had suddenly quieted and was watching the show.