Chapter 24

Lisa

Bored, I step away from the wall and peer into the hallway. Jennie is already at the front of the line, so I lean back against the wall and prepare to wait some more. I also make a mental note never to return to this club. These lines must be a regular occurrence here, and I find it ridiculous that they haven't put in a bigger restroom for the women.

Taking out my phone, I check my email for the third time. As expected, nothing's happened since three minutes ago, so I put the phone away again and consider walking over to the bar to get myself a drink. I've been abstaining all night to keep my reflexes sharp in case of danger, but one beer shouldn't impact anything.

Still, I decide against it. Even though several of my guards are sprinkled throughout the club, I don't feel comfortable having Jennie out of sight for more than a couple of minutes. I would've even waited in that line with her, but the curving hallway is so narrow that there's only room for the women and the occasional man pushing his way through.

So I wait, amusing myself by watching the dancers on the floor. With all the grinding bodies, the atmosphere is heavily sexual, but the flickering lights and pulsing beat do nothing for me. Without Jennie in my arms to excite me, I might as well be standing on a street corner watching grass grow.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, distracting me from my thoughts. Pulling it out, I look at Jennie's message and frown.

Did Rosé walk by you? Do you see her anywhere?

Stepping away from the wall again, I glance into the hallway. I don't see either Rosé or Jennie there, but the girl who was behind Jennie in line is still waiting her turn.

Satisfied that Jennie must be inside the bathroom, I turn to survey the club, searching for a yellow dress in the crowd. It's hard to see, with all the people and the dim lighting, but Rosé's dress is bright enough that I should be able to spot her.

I don't see anything, though. Not by the bar and not on the dance floor.

Starting to feel uneasy, I push through the crowd to get to the other side of the bar and look again.

Nothing. No yellow dress anywhere.

My unease morphs into full-blown alarm. Grabbing the phone again, I check the location of Jennie's trackers.

She's still in the bathroom or right next to it.

Feeling marginally calmer, I message Bambam to put the men on alert and text Jennie my response before pushing my way back toward the restrooms. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I need to have Jennie with me. Right now. My instincts are screaming that something's wrong, and I won't relax until I have her securely by my side.

When I get to the hallway, I see that the line of women is even longer now, and there's even a line to the men's room. The narrow hallway is completely blocked, so I begin to shove people aside, ignoring their shouts of outrage.

Jennie is not in this line, though the trackers indicate she's nearby. She's also not in the women's bathroom, I realize as I pass by it. According to my tracking app, she's about thirty feet ahead, a bit to the left of the curving hallway. The crowd clears out past this point, and I pick up the pace, my worry intensifying.

A second later, I see it.

A man's body on the floor, next to a closed door.

My blood turns to ice, the fear sharp and acrid on my tongue. If somebody took Jennie, if she's been harmed in any way—

No. I can't allow myself to go there, not when she needs me.

An icy calm engulfs me, blocking out the fear. Crouching down, I grab the knife from my ankle holster and slide it into my belt buckle for easy access. Then, rising to my feet, I take out my gun and step over the body, ignoring the blood trickling from the man's forehead.

According to the app, Jennie is only a few feet to the left of me—which means she's behind that door.

Taking a deep breath, I push open the door and step into the room.

Immediately, a muffled cry to my right catches my attention. Spinning, I see two figures struggling by the wall . . . and all traces of calm flee.

Jennie—my Jennie—is fighting with a man twice her size. He's on top of her, one of his hands muffling her screams and the other hand tearing at her clothes. Her eyes are wild and furious, her fingers curved into claws as she rakes at his face and neck, leaving bloody streaks across his skin.

A red fog descends on me, a rage more violent than anything I've known.

One leap, and I'm on top of them, dragging the man off Jennie. I don't shoot—too risky with her near—but the knife is in my hand as I pin him to the floor, my left forearm crushing his throat. He's choking, his eyes bulging as I raise the knife and plunge it into his side, again and again. Hot blood spurts out, spraying all over me, and I smell his terror, his knowledge of impending death. His hands beat at me, but I don't feel the blows. Instead, I watch his eyes as I stab him again and again, reveling in his dying struggles.

"Lisa!" Jennie's cry snaps me out of my bloodlust, and I spring to my feet, leaving her attacker's twitching body on the floor.

She's shaking, mascara and tears streaming down her face as she tries to stand up, holding the wall for support.

Fuck. Sickening fear fills my chest. I rush to her and gather her against me, frantically patting her down in search of injuries. Nothing feels broken, but her lower lip is split and puffy, and her dress has a small rip at the top. And the child— No, I can't think about that now.

"Baby, are you hurt?" My voice is barely recognizable as my own. "Did he hurt you?"

She shakes her head, her eyes still wild. "No!" She twists in my arms, pushing at me with surprising strength. "Let me go! We have to go after her!"

"What? Who?" Startled, I move back, holding her by one arm so she wouldn't fall.

"Rosé! He's got her, Lisa! He grabbed her and dragged her out that way." Jennie jabs her free hand in the direction of the door in the back. "We must go after her!" She sounds hysterical.

"Another man took her?"

"Yes! He said—" Jennie's voice catches on a sob. "He said he was going to take his turn in the car. There were two of them here, and one took Rosé!"

I stare at her, a new fury building inside me. I may not be close to Rosé, but I like the girl and she's under my protection. The idea that someone dared to do this, to assault her and Jennie this way—

"Hurry!" Jennie implores, frantically tugging on the arm I'm holding to pull me toward the door. "Come on, Lisa, we have to hurry! He just dragged her out that way, so we can still catch up!"

Fuck. I grit my teeth, every muscle in my body vibrating with tension. I've never been so torn in my life. Jennie is hurt, and everything inside me screams that she's my first priority, that I should grab her and rush her to safety as quickly as possible. But if what she says is true, then the only way to save Rosé is to act immediately—and it'll take my men at least a few minutes to get to where we are.

"Please, Lisa!" Jennie begs, sobbing, and the panic in her eyes decides it for me.

"Stay here." My voice is cold and sharp as I release her arm and step back. "Do not move."

"I'm coming with you—"

"Like hell you are." Pulling out my gun, I thrust it into her hands. "Wait for me here, and shoot anyone you don't recognize."

And before she can argue with me, I stride swiftly toward the back door, messaging Bambam about the situation on the way.