Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)(22)
“What are we doing here? My brother is still missing, my apartment is trashed, and I’m tired and cranky. Do you really think this is the best time for a rave?” I had to shout to be heard over the music.
He cut me a look and caught my wrist and dragged me over to where the bar was. He leaned on the Lucite bar top and hollered at the bikini-clad bartender, “Where’s Nassir?”
She was busy pouring drinks and looked like she was going to ignore him for a second. He lowered his hood and I saw her eyes flicker over that star inked on his face. It made him so identifiable. She wiped her hands on a bar towel and pointed to a set of wrought-iron stairs that coiled up behind the brightly lit bar.
“Up in the VIP section.”
He jerked a nod and dragged me along behind him. I tugged on my wrist to try and get free but he only curled his fingers tighter. I was getting sick and tired of being yanked around by this guy. In every sense of the word. I felt like I had been tangling with him for months—not just a few short days.
The VIP section was the converted catwalk of the factory. It was all metal and chains and looked like it was about to fall to the ground at any second. It was a good thing I wasn’t scared of heights because there was nothing but a twisted chain barrier between the edge of the metal platform and the drop to the dance floor below. Once again I gulped and scooted closer to Bax’s back. He stalked through grinding bodies, not stopping even when a couple called out to him or tried to stop him. He was clearly on a mission and nothing was going to deter him, not even me having a mild panic attack as I noticed that the entire platform moved and flexed with all the weight on it.
We made our way to a raised section at the very back of the platform that had several tables with black satin covers on them. It was less populated back here, and Bax headed straight for the table where a very good-looking man of obvious Middle Eastern descent was seated. He had a chilled bottle of champagne on the table in front of him as well as an open laptop. There was a really pretty blond girl seated on his right and an even prettier brunette seated on his left. Both girls were trying to get his attention, but whatever was on the computer had his undivided focus until Bax pulled out the chair opposite him and plopped down.
He let go of me finally, and I was at a loss as to what to do besides hover uneasily over his shoulder. I didn’t belong in a place like this with a guy like him. I was uncomfortable and doing nothing to hide the fact. The girls were watching me with curious eyes, and all I could do was fidget nervously with one of my curls.
The gorgeous man with the olive skin and jet-black hair lifted his head and skimmed his eyes over Bax and then flicked them to me. He offered a grin that literally made my heart trip over itself and I knew I was blushing.
“I heard you were out. Figured you would find your way here. It’s good to see you, Bax. Hard time looks good on you.”
“You have my money?”
The guy’s gold eyes drifted up to me and I felt like he was looking right inside of me. I felt my breath hitch. Wow, that was some powerful mojo he was working with. No wonder he had two supermodels fighting for his attention.
“I do, but I think I have a better option for you. It looks like you bulked up in the joint. What are you pushing now, two-eighty, two-ninety? You can hold your own with some of the big boys. Why don’t you let me set something up, double or nothing, and I’ll only take a fifteen percent cut instead of my normal twenty.”
“You actually gonna set up something clean, Nassir? I told you before that last fight you set up before I got locked up that I’m not playing with amateur hour. I don’t have any time for it.”
“Out only for a minute and already back to making demands. You always did have balls the size of watermelons. I’ll keep it as clean as I can.”
“Do you actually have fifteen grand on hand to go double or nothing?”
I felt my eyes pop wide. I had no clue what they were talking about, but fifteen grand was a lot of money. Who in the hell was this guy my brother considered his best friend, and what kind of life had Race been living before he rode to my rescue?
“I’ve never shorted you, Bax. I’m not a stupid man.”
Bax gave a jerk of his head and cast me a look out of the corner of his eye.
“You see Race around since he came back to town?”
The dark-haired man turned back to the computer he had in front of him. “No. He never cared for how I did business. I haven’t seen him since he asked me to track down someone for him. That was a month before your arrest.”
Bax climbed to his feet. “Who did he ask you to track down?”
The man waved a hand dismissively. “Some girl. He was very intent about it. I found her over in Carlson and passed the info along. He was supposed to owe me a favor, but I never saw him again, and then you got busted, so he was no use to me anyway. I heard Novak was frothing at the mouth to locate him, though, so I’m not surprised you’re asking or that he’s nowhere to be found.”
My heart was thudding loudly in my ears, and I think I might have toppled over if Bax hadn’t clamped down on my arm and hauled me to his side. I was the girl. I was from Carlson. Race had used this smooth, obviously connected man to track me down even before Bax had gone to prison. I was on his radar well before he had realized there would be no saving his best friend. I wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but it felt significant.