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“Can I have money for beer then?” I asked sweetly, making him chuckle as he pulled out his wallet and handed it to me.
“Don’t drink too much.” I thought he was going to kiss me but he gently pushed me towards Drake, pinning him with a look as Drake took my hand. “Look after her.”
“Of course,” he said as if he was offended, and Cruz walked off towards a table in the back of the club, my eyes running over some of the guys waiting for him. They were older, probably in their late forties, and I averted my eyes when I noticed them all eyeing me skeptically.
I didn’t want to piss anyone off and end up in a shallow grave.
I pulled some bills out and put them on the bar, clearing my throat to get the bartender’s attention.
“Um, can I have a beer?”
He raised an eyebrow, running his eyes over me. “Do you have ID?”
“C’mon, man. She’s with us,” Drake huffed. “I want a beer too.”
“I’d prefer to see ID,” the man grunted.
“Can’t do that. We kidnapped her and she doesn’t have anything with her. Penelope Whitlock, twenty-two,” Drake said lightly, the man’s eyes blazing with anger.
“You brought a missing person into our bar? What the fuck, Drake?”
“It’s not like her daddy’s looking for her. Besides, she’s an adult. He can’t force her to go home. So, beer?”
He was being so rude. He was lucky no one had shot at him.
I slapped the back of his head with a scowl. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Babe, let me handle it,” Drake replied, earning another smack to the back of the head. “Ouch! Stop hitting me, woman!”
“No wonder Cruz is handling business and you’re on babysitting duty,” I answered as I sat on a barstool, putting the money back in Cruz’s wallet. “It’s fine. I don’t have ID and it’s their call.”
The man studied me silently for a moment before grabbing two beers from the fridge behind him and popping the tops, sliding one towards me.
“Why’d they kidnap you? Did you do something stupid?”
“No. My father went away and they didn’t know I existed. They robbed my house and then panicked when they realized I was there. It was hilarious,” I smiled sweetly, patting Drake’s cheek. “And this idiot told me their names so Cruz had to bring me back with them. I think they’re nuts. They should’ve taken more, my dad’s a piece of shit.”
“Whitlock you said?” he asked Drake without taking his eyes off me. “That asshole from Kingslake’s your dad?”
“Louis Whitlock, yes. I’m hoping the Donovans get him. He’s involved in the skin trade and I know they’re slowly tearing it down,” I scowled, sipping my beer and making him smirk.
He rested his elbows on the bar, leaning forward.
“You want to give me more information that I can pass along? I’ll see what I can do about it falling in Rory’s lap.”
“Got a pen and paper?” I grinned, but the sound of gunfire cut me off.
The man instantly pulled a gun from the back of his pants and motioned behind the bar.
“Get behind here!”
Drake scooped me up and forced me behind the bar before I could react, pushing me down and opening one of the cupboards under the bar. “Get in.”
My skin crawled as I stared at the small, dark space and I frantically shook my head.
“No. I can’t—”
“Please babe, I’ll be right back I promise,” he pleaded, practically shoving me inside when I didn’t move. Tears pricked my eyes as he gave my hand a squeeze before shutting me inside, my breathing uneven as panic consumed me.
