Saving Hailey: Chapter 27

Delta smells like peaches.

As soon as the elevator opens onto the balcony, the heat fans my skin. It’s… an experience. I don’t remember ever being in a club before, so my head turns left and right so quick my neck hurts.

Strobe lights cut across the enormous room and berry-scented smoke filles the air. Music shakes the place, the bass so potent it vibrates the floor. People dance everywhere, euphoric, lost in their own world. I recognize “Daisy” by Ashnikko drowning out the crowd’s conversations.

Carter takes my hand, lacing our fingers as he leads me in a straight line, his step never faltering. I watch, in awe of how smoothly the crowd parts for us. One look at Carter has people scrambling out of the way. Men and women alike watch his every move, a hint of respect, and thinly veiled fear, in their eyes. They watch me, too, focusing on my hand held firmly in Carter’s. Their eyebrows lift. Shoulders nudge shoulders alerting others.

I’m cowering under the scrutiny, not used to being on display, center of attention, but I can’t hide. My palms grow clammy as I avoid eye-contact, taking in the mesmerizing, mostly red and chrome interior design.

The aura of dominance and authority droning around Carter is more potent here. Or maybe seeing the respect and fear in the eyes of everyone here—including men bulkier than him—makes me truly understand how important he is. How brutal, if the sight of him makes seven-foot-tall bodybuilders bow.

Being on his arm is both empowering and intimidating. I’m out of my depth, feeling smaller than a bee when we stop by a large round table flanked by two half-moon, red leather couches.

The attention of the group of elegantly dressed men sat there zeroes in on Carter and me. Chills slithers down my spine as I recognize the man at the center.

Dante Carrow.

I’ve heard stories about him. Dad often said that putting Dante behind bars would be his biggest achievement. His dream and ultimate goal. I’ve been hearing that name over the dinner table for years and yet here he is, commanding the space around him without lifting a finger.

I expected many things, but not this slight softness to his features. I thought he’d be like Carter: all hard lines, dark looks, and an even more overpowering sense of danger. He’s menacing, don’t get me wrong. It’s clear he’s the boss. His posture, those calculating eyes, the reputation and authority hanging thickly in the air all betray him. He’s the king at the table, but he doesn’t look as menacing as Carter. Not half as vicious.

“That’s Dante,” Carter begins, pointing toward his boss, then continues around the table. “Rookie, Jackson, Nate.” He leans down to speak in my ear. “The others are below us. You don’t need their names. They’re just here to keep you safe.”

I nod once, swallowing hard as my eyes return to Dante.

“I’m Hailey,” I say, injecting as much confidence into my tone as possible.

“We know who you are,” a man Carter didn’t introduce says, toying with a glass of whiskey.

He has no neck and a pink nose, as if the drink sloshing close to the rim isn’t his first tonight. Not even his tenth.

“Forgetting the rules already, Gabriel?” Carter clips, pinning him with a pointed stare. “You’re at the table tonight, but you’re not here to socialize. You don’t speak unless spoken to. Was Hailey talking to you?”

He cowers, shoulders slumping as he shakes his head.

“Then keep your mouth shut.”

“There, there,” Rookie tuts, an amused smirk curling his lips. “You’re scaring her more than him, Carter. Relax.” He moves his eyes to me. “What do you drink, Hailey?”

“She’ll have a mojito with me,” a female voice chirps behind us and I spin to see a beautiful woman three steps away.

Her long, brown hair is thrown over one shoulder, lips stained deep red, body hugged by an elegant, short black dress.

“That’s Layla,” Carter tells me.

“Oh, hey, I—” I don’t finish because she struts across, pulling me into a tight hug.

“I’ve been dying to meet you,” she says, beaming at me. “Come on, we’re all dancing downstairs.”

“Thank you, but—”

“Not tonight,” Carter cuts in, protectively wrapping his arm around my waist. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than this close to him. “She’s all yours next time.”

“Oh don’t be such a buzzkill. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Don’t force it, Star,” Dante commands. It’s an order, but softer than I’d expect from a man of his reputation. I guess he doesn’t boss his wife around like he would other people. “Hailey’s staying here with the extra security, and you could use a break. You’ve been dancing for forty minutes.”

She pinches her lips, little torches burning in her eyes before she blinks them away. “Fine.”

As soon as she sits down, Carter ushers me along to sit between him and Rookie. Broadway, Koby, and Ryder take the opposite couch just as a waitress stops by. Her skimpy outfit leaves little to the imagination. It’s just a white bra and a matching microskirt so short her thong shows when she moves.

“Get us a round of the usual, and…” Dante spares me a glance, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll try the mojito, thank you.”

“You heard her. A round of lemonades, too.”

The waitress nods, scribbling the order on a notepad as she scurries away toward a long bar.

She’s back five minutes later, with another waitress, both carrying trays full of drinks. They set the glasses by their respective owners, leaving another six in the middle.

“Ten minutes,” Dante announces. Draping one arm over Layla’s shoulder, he pulls her closer to kiss her temple. “Don’t try dragging Hailey downstairs while we’re gone.”

I immediately turn to Carter, my insides tying into knots. “Gone?” I mouth. “You’re leaving?”

“We’ll be in the office at the back. Dante needs a rundown of how things will play out tomorrow before he approves it. Koby’s staying with you.”

The cold dread filling my stomach is irrational at best, but I can’t do anything about it. Since rescuing me from Blaze’s mansion, Carter’s been around all the time. Even when he wasn’t in the same room, I felt safe because of the security systems, but here… we’re in a club at the heart of Chicago. Despite the precautions Carter’s had put in place, I dread being without him. I don’t feel safe when he’s not around.

I grab the mojito, dousing the rising panic. I’m sick and tired of feeling like prey, like someone might jump out of the shadows and put a gun to my head or whisk me back to Blaze’s mansion. I doubt I’d avoid being raped this time. He wouldn’t stop his men throwing me under the rug… not after Carter murdered half of them. If he gets his hands on me again, I’ll pay.

I scan the huge club, checking how many bodyguards are around and whether there are any cameras. Quite a few blink high up the walls. That’s reassuring. At least four big, statue-like men surround the VIP area, and two more stand by the metal staircase leading downstairs. Six. There’s another six at the table plus Koby and however many bouncers are downstairs.

That’s a lot of men. More than got me out of Blaze’s mansion, but I’d rather be at the safe house than here.

Carter catches my chin, turning my head his way. “You’re safe,” he insists. “There aren’t many men stupid enough to raid Dante’s club. Rhett knows he wouldn’t get out alive. We’ve doubled the security in here, and there are twelve men outside. Koby’s staying, and so are they.” He nods toward the men he didn’t bother introducing. “Layla’s here, Hailey. Dante wouldn’t leave her if he thought the security could fail.”

That doesn’t make me feel better. I get what he’s implying—if someone did raid this place, it would put Layla in danger too, even if no one’s directly after her, but the truth is I’m the one Rhett’s enemies want, not Layla. I bet no one would dare touch Dante Carrow’s wife. She’s safe even without a bodyguard.

“Hailey,” Carter tuts, regaining my attention. “You might not trust me with your heart, but I expect you to trust me with your safety.

“I do, but—”

“There’s no but. I wouldn’t leave you hereif I wasn’t certain you’d be safe for half an hour without me.” He brings my face closer. Close enough that his lips touch the tip of my nose, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. “I lost you once, pretty girl. Never again.”

He lets go and I clutch the half-empty mojito glass with both hands, doing my best to stop fretting. I’m overreacting. I know I am, but the girl who watched in that ballroom as the others got beaten and raped can’t shake the fear. I’m blowing this out of proportion, scared to end up with a psychopath less altruistic than Blaze.

“What’s the problem?” Dante asks Carter.

They sit arm-in-arm, and, thanks to the glass separating the club from the VIP area, the music isn’t as loud here, making normal-level conversations easy to follow.

“She’s worried,” Carter says.

Dante leans out to get a better look at me, his bright-green eyes boring into mine. There’s no hostility there but knowing what he represents makes my stomach churn.

Funny that I don’t feel intimidated by Carter even though he looks much more sinister.

“We’ll be right behind that wall,” he says, pointing to where a bouncer I haven’t noticed stands like a statue. “Every inch of this place is under strict surveillance, and the feed goes straight into my office. If anything happens, we’ll know before you do.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Would it make you feel better if the security up here was tighter?”

“No, I… I’ll be okay. I’m overreacting.”

He smirks, glancing at Carter. “In that case, let’s get the meeting over and done with.”

As soon as he stands, his men follow suit. Save for Carter, Koby, and the six nameless guys, everyone’s on their feet.

“I won’t be long,” Carter tells me, his thumb drawing small circles on my thigh. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

With that, he gets up and leaves.

I watch him follow Dante behind a pair of black doors. As soon Carter’s out of sight, I let out a shaky breath, calming myself down.

Koby sends me a reassuring smile, diving back into a conversation with a man on his left as six women approach, all visibly out of breath. They take a seat while Layla introduces me as Carter’s girl. She raises her mojito, urging me to do the same while the women’s eyes drill holes in my face.

“So,” one of them asks, pointing between me and the door Carter disappeared behind. “How long has this been going on?”

“None of your goddamn business, Pam,” Koby seethes.

“Why so touchy?” She twirls. “Given those puppy eyes, I think she should know not to get her hopes up. Save for the main trio…” She pinches her red lips together, pointing to Layla and two other girls, “…we were all in your shoes at one point, so a friendly heads-up: Carter changes his toys as often as the clip in his gun.”

Koby’s opening his mouth to say something, but I shoot him a pointed stare. I don’t know how often Dante’s men change their girls, but it’s clear that at least the main trio is here to stay. I doubt I’m here to stay… but on the off chance Carter means what he says, I can’t let anyone walk all over me or I’ll never garner any respect.

“You call a quick fuck being in her shoes?” Layla asks, one eyebrow raised. “When have you been here on Carter’s arm? I don’t recall him ever bringing a girl to the table and I’ve known him for eight years, Pam.”

“Potato, potato,” a girl sitting arm-in-arm with Pam says. “Enjoy it while you can, but don’t think you’re special or that you’ll hold his interest. None of us ever could.”

“Maybe that’s the difference between us,” I muse, swirling the mint leaves in my glass with my straw. “You try too hard.”

Her cheeks grow red, making her a few points more gorgeous. They’re all beautiful. Not a scar between them on their smooth skins. They dress better than I do, showing off more, confident in their bodies, but I don’t let that faze me.

“We’re on the same team here, sweetie,” Pam says, leaning across the table in an attempt to intimidate me. “We’re just trying to help. Carter gets bored quickly. He might’ve brought you here tonight, but you’re just a diversion. He’s been gone three months, you know? You’re here to distract everyone from asking where he was.”

A smile breaks across my face as I lift the mojito, taking a slow, deliberate sip, the rum coursing through my veins making me brave. “He was with me.”

“Hailey,” Koby pipes in. “Careful.”

“He was with you?” Pam spits out, disbelief shining in her eyes. “Doing what?”

“I believe that information is way above your pay grade.”

Anger gushes through her so fast I have a feeling she might rip all my hair out.

“Time for you to go downstairs,” Koby tells her. It’s not a request, and it’s not treated as one when she nonchalantly turns her head, rising to her stilettoes, hips swaying the second she clears the narrow space between table and couch.

“Are you coming, Hailey?” Layla asks, setting her empty glass on a tray in the middle of the table.

“No, thank you. Have fun.”

She sends me what could be construed as a reassuring smile. As soon as she’s up, she levels her step with Pam.

“That bitch can’t keep her tongue in check to save her fucking life,” a man beside Koby snaps.

“And yet you’re still screwing her,” another of them, Gabriel I think, answers. “You know she has her eye on a different prize. She’s just using you,”

“Yeah, but she fucks like a pro, man.”

I hide my cringe behind the glass, tipping back what’s left. They keep talking and the other men join in, changing subjects for twenty minutes while I steal glances at the door Carter’s behind, hoping I can telepathically summon him out here.

The second mojito tastes more like juice than alcohol, and before I know it, I’m finishing the last of it, setting my glass in the middle the same way Layla did.

“I won’t say you can’t have another, Hailey,” Koby mutters, leaning over so he doesn’t have to raise his voice. “But we’ve spent a lot of time together lately, and we both know you can’t handle the liquor.”

“I’m fine. Just one more, okay?”

“Like I said, I won’t tell you no.”

“Could you tell me where the bathroom is?”

He immediately stands. “Come on, I’ll show you. Don’t worry, I won’t follow you inside.”

I think I’m more worried that he won’t than I would be if he did. People part for him like they did for Carter, the same respect shining in their eyes. I guess Dante’s men all evoke a certain flavor of fear in everyone around. Just knowing who they are does the trick. I doubt the average Joe would dare get in their bad books.

“I’ll wait here,” Koby tells me, stopping at the bottom of the stairs and pointing to a door twenty feet away.

The restroom is quieter than the main floor, the music muffled, the lights bright. It’s not as crowded as I expected, a few stalls stand empty. I slip into the closest, bolting the door.

Water flushes in the adjacent stall, girls giggle and chat, doors open and close, bursts of loud music leak through.

“You better get a grip before you really annoy Layla, and Dante gets involved,” someone says on my right.

“I’m fine,” Pam’s melodic voice answers.

Great. I’m stuck here until they leave.

“Yeah, peachy. Too bad you haven’t shut up about Hailey for half an hour.”

“I just don’t get what Carter sees in her. And what the hell did she mean he was with her for three months?!”

“God, stop already,” the other girl whines. “You’ve been barking up that tree for fucking ever. He doesn’t want you.”

“He did.”

“Ugh… you fucked once. In his car. And I seem to remember you had to beg for weeks.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” Pam makes a disgruntled noise at the back of her throat. “Whatever. He’ll kick her to the curb sooner rather than later.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, but if it stops you moping, then sure, let’s say that.”

A moment of silence rings in my ears. There are other women in here, but the restroom is silent, as if everyone is engrossed in this conversation.

“No way he’s serious about her. He’s never fucking serious. He doesn’t date them. Ever. I mean, come on, save for Layla, Luna, and Jean, he’s fucked every girl at the table. Including you.”

Fuck this. I’ve heard enough. Yanking my panties up, I flush the toilet, and burst out of the cubicle, catching Pam’s wide eyes in the mirrors.

She visibly pales. “I… shit, I didn’t realize you were in there.”

“Don’t stop on my account. It’s quite entertaining listening to you whine about my man.”

Her lips open and close, a fish hooked out of water. I wash my hands, buzzing like a thundercloud charged with lightning.

How dare she?

No. How dare he?

I storm out of the restroom, stewing, fucking pissed off that Carter brought me here for his harem to use as their punching bag all evening.

“What’s wrong?” Koby asks as I march past him to climb the metal staircase.

“Nothing.”

He grips my wrist, holding me on the first step and looks over his shoulder as Pam exits, her face bright pink.

“What did she tell you?”

“Koby, I’m fine. Annoyed, sure. A little confused why Carter brought me here to hang out with his hookups, hell yes, but otherwise fine. I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”

A lazy sort of ire burns his eyes as he throws his arm round my shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you a virgin mojito.”