Page 29 of Spin the Damn Bottle

I slow down a little, because it's not really Melina I'm raging against. Keeping my distance from Nadia is a fucking nightmare. She hates it, I hate it. But she demanded it of me, again and again, and therefore I have to try. If only so she can finally admit that's a terrible idea and never make either of us go through it again.

If you love something, let it go, right?

I need to punch whoever said that in the teeth.

We approach the city at high speed, and I head straight to Midnight Elite. I would have preferred not to do this on a weeknight, but the moment I received the text, I moved the pieces of my trap into place.

Judith's here. And if Judith is here, then her dealer isn't far. She wouldn't come all the way to the city on a random Wednesday if it wasn't to get her supply of coke and ecstasy.

I drop Mel off a few yards away from the entrance before circling back to drive my bike down the underground entrance reserved for Heritage guests. The general public isn't aware of the basement, and we like it that way.

I rush to the room where security surveys every inch of my club.

Lucas Astrella stands in front of a dozen monitors, his keen eyes seemingly taking everything in at once.

"Where is she?" I demand, asking him rather than the two guards seated by the console.

"The shitters," he says, grinning. "Your friend's a piece of work. It's her third client."

I follow his gaze to one of the screens. Judith is busy making the money she needs to inject and snort her way into an early grave, bent over the men's urinal.

"Are you recording?"

"Yes, sir," one of the guards replies. "We've zoomed in and adjusted the lighting to ensure we have a clear shot, too."

I remember a time when little Jude ran around my parent's swimming pool, screaming "you can't catch me, you can't catch me."

I always caught her.

"Good. Has she made contact with anyone else, anyone other than her johns?"

"No, sir. She headed straight for the bathrooms."

I look at every camera, trying to decipher anything unusual, but all I see are young, beautiful people dancing, drinking, fucking, and having an all-around good time.

"Wait," Lucas says. "Zoom in on Judith and her guy."

I grimace distastefully. "We're not here for you to get an eyeful of her cunt, Astrella."

"I'm not turned on by STD magnets, asshole. Zoom in."

My guard looks to me for guidance, so I nod. There's a reason I brought Astrella onboard. His father's company consistently delivers, and he's one of their sharpest agents.

All I see is some guy in white jeans and a red leather jacket fucking Judith's ass, but Lucas nods. "That's him."

"What makes you think that?"

"Every other guy queued until it was their turn, then gave her money, and started to fuck her, no exceptions. He walked right in there and cut the line. I also didn't see him hand her any money.”

“How did you even notice him?” the guard asks in awe.

“I can see patterns as easily as other people see shapes and colors. When something goes against the pattern, I notice.” Lucas leans in. “See the tattoo on his ass?"

My eyes narrow, and indeed, he has a spiderweb right on his buttock. "Is that a gang tattoo?"

"Several in town use spiderwebs. He might have other, more distinctive ones to clarify where he's from. Watch them. We'll see an exchange."

So we watch the cheap porn-like session in silence, as my cameras aren't equipped with microphones. That would be useless with the deafening music.