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Disconnecting the call, I shove my phone back into my pocket and spin around to go let Zeke know that I need to get out of here. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see him already heading in my direction.
“Hey, so, something happened and I really need to head out. Do you think you can finish up alone or -”
He waves at me, pulling his keys from his back pocket, “I’m actually done. I have an appointment with a client in an hour but afterwards, I’ll get started on all this. I’ll send you the invoice for approval before ordering the supplies if that’s cool?”
“Yeah, whatever you need just shoot me an email. I might be a little tied up tonight, so if you can’t get ahold of me, give Riot a call? He has access to get anything paid that needs taken care of.”
Chuckling, he shakes his head.
“Something funny?”
“Nah, just, Riot might be a little tied up too.”
I raise an eyebrow at me questioningly.
“Nothing, I got it. Consider it all done,” he laughs, walking back to his truck.
With a nod, I walk back to my bike and climb on, making mental note that I need to make a pit stop to get my car. If she’s in bad shape, no way will she make it out of there on my bike.
My tires screech as I whip into the parking lot at The Underground. It’s midnight and the place is still going balls to the wall. It’s in a real shitty part of the city, so my imagination runs rampant when I think about what could have happened to her here tonight. Shutting off the engine, I jog up to the door and when the bouncer tries to stop me, I pull my Glock from my waistband, snapping it quickly to the space between his eyes.
“Out of my way asshole. Arsenal is expecting me so just back the fuck up.”
He gulps, dropping his hands to his side and giving a slight nod.
Little bitch.
Shoving my Glock back into my waistband, I sift through the crowd of people, looking around the massive industrial space for anything that resembles an office. That’s when I see Blaize standing against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest, talking to a squirrely looking kid in a leather jacket.
Pushing through the bodies, I make my way quickly over to Blaize and when his eyes meet mine, I expect a fist to the face. I’m pleasantly surprised when he simply nods to his left, pointing to a black door with a slim, silver handle, before turning back to the kid.
Giving him a nod, I head for the door and make my way inside.
Spencer is curled up on a small leather couch with a large black hooded sweatshirt draped across her body. I look up and Arsenal is sitting at a desk, hovered over a laptop, and as he finishes typing, he looks up from the screen and his eyes meet mine.
“She’s ok,” he says in a hushed voice, as he points to the chair across from him.
“What happened?” I ask, as I take a seat, constantly glancing over at her to make sure I can see her chest rising and falling.
“Not sure man. I didn’t even know she was here, there was a commotion on the floor. The bartender, Nina, buzzed back here to tell us that some guy was groping a woman who looked too drunk to stand, so we came out. Blaize knocked the shit out of him and I found her curled up on the floor clutching a barstool.”
“What, did she drink too much?”
“Nah, I asked and Nina said she only had a couple of shots. I mean I guess she could have drank before she showed up, but Nina said the same guy Blaize knocked out was hovering around her while she was at the bar. My guess? She was drugged.”
“Fuck,” my blood boils beneath my skin, “Where is the bastard?” I grit, gripping the arms of the chair so hard the wood threatens to splinter in my grasp.
“Blaize had our guys take care of him, he won’t be back.”
I nod and relax.
“I would have preferred to knock his teeth in myself, but.. I’m grateful. Thanks.”
Grateful at least someone was there for her when I couldn’t be.
She’s so fucking stubborn.
“Look Trav,” Arsenal sighs. “I meant what I said. No more bad blood between the Reapers and the Brotherhood ok? Blaize is a dick, he’ll always be a dick. Sometimes that might mean calling in favors, but those favors go both ways, yeah? We got your back if you have ours.”