This girl has it all—brains and beauty. I hope she isn’t too smart for her own good. “How long do you think you’ll stay?”
“Not sure. I’m trying to get everything finished up as soon as possible. The business at home waits.”
Basing my judgment on the flat where Bleu is staying, her aunt wasn’t a wealthy woman, so she can probably be done within the next couple of weeks. “I believe that should be doable.”
“Tell me about your parents.”
This is where my story can go sideways quickly. “My mum and father are still married. I guess you could call Dad an entrepreneur. He owns a few businesses. Mum doesn’t work. What about yours?”
“My mom passed away two years ago. My dad won’t even consider dating. He says he loved her too much to be with another woman.”
I can’t imagine having parents who tolerate each other, let alone love one another. It’s completely foreign to me. And I’m destined to be just like them.
With a fair amount of certainty, I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to love.
* * *
I send Sterling into the club for a look around before we enter. I need to make sure it’s clear. The last thing I need is an altercation with a rival in front of Bleu. “All clear, boss.”
“Perfect. Thank you, Sterling. That will be all.”
“What was that about?” she asks.
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
It’s Saturday night, so the dance floor is bouncing. We opt for seats at the bar. “What do you want? Sex on the beach?”
“No.” She laughs. “I did that because I thought it would be funny to see you with a girlie drink. Your reaction was priceless.”
“Would you take a Johnnie Walker Black Label instead?”
“You thoroughly enjoy JW, don’t you?”
“Aye. It’s good stuff.”
“Suits me fine.”
We get our drinks and go down the stairs into the cave where the best dance floor is. “This is an unusual place.”
“Not bad, right?”
“It’s great. We don’t have anything like this at home.”
We move toward the dance floor. “Do you like to dance?”
“When I have a good partner.”
There’s a new Sia song playing. “Want to kill these so we can get out there?”
“Sure. On three.”
We click our glasses and count, “One. Two. Three.”
We down the dark liquid. “This stuff is never disappointing. If anything in this world suffers from the tragedy of perfection, it’s some motherfucking Johnnie Walker,” I say.
“Agreed.”
Glasses abandoned, we move to the floor. The song isn’t really a slow one, but Bleu moves close and puts one arm over my shoulder while clasping my hand. “I really love this song.”
I listen to the lyrics for a moment. “Fire, meet gasoline?”
Bleu sings a few verses and shrugs. “Sorry. I know I can’t sing worth a damn but it doesn’t stop me.”
Several couples hit the dance floor all at once, forcing her to move closer. “It’s getting crowded.”
This is nothing for this place. “It’s a popular club but it’s still early. It’ll be mobbed in another hour.”
“Won’t be able to stir ’em with a stick.”
“What?”
She laughs. “It’s an expression we say in the South. Means a place is really crowded.”
She’s hasn’t told me where she’s from but I already know from when I did the online search for her photography studio.
A new song picks up where Sia left off, and we’ll have to scream at one another if we want to continue any kind of conversation. “Another drink?”
“Sure. It’s hot in here.”
I lead her from the dance floor toward the downstairs bar. “Want the same?”
She shrugs. “Suits me.”
Getting our drinks takes longer than I’d like. “A table just opened up in that little alcove. I’m gonna grab it while you’re waiting for our drinks.”
I order doubles since I’m in no hurry to stand in line for drinks again. Three is probably plenty for Bleu anyway. I’m guessing she’s a lightweight based on her size. I probably outweigh her by seventy pounds so it’s not fair to expect her to keep up.
I move through the crowd toward the table where Bleu’s waiting when I see one of my worst adversaries sitting next to her. Lloyd Buchanan, an officer who’s been after The Fellowship for years, is cozying up and talking into her ear. She’s leaning away, which means she doesn’t like the things he’s saying. “Move the fuck away from her.”
“What a lovely American lass you have with you tonight, Mr. Breckenridge.”
Perfect. He’s going to be an arse. “Leave her alone.”
“Since when did you start branching outside of the brotherhood?”
Things could become very unsafe for Bleu if he keeps talking. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Aww, she’s doesn’t know who you are. You haven’t told her you come from one of the most notorious families in Edinburgh. No … make that in Scotland. She has no idea your father is a sadistic crime lord and one day you’ll be his replacement.”
Buchanan strokes his finger down Bleu’s bare arm. “Sweetheart, the man you’re with is a deplorable criminal. He lies, steals, and kills. And that’s just the shortlist.”
I hate hearing him say those things to Bleu but I hate seeing his hands on her more. “Don’t touch her.”
Bleu looks at his hand and then at his face. “I’m giving you a warning and then an entire second to take your hand off me before I break it.”
“You just threatened the deputy chief constable of the organized crime unit.” Buchanan’s hand moves down Bleu’s arm to her leg. “I could take you in for that alone.”
He’s threatening Bleu. I’m sure she’s frightened but I’m not. I move toward him, prepared for what might happen next. “I said, take your hand off her.”
I don’t take a full step toward them before Bleu goes for his balls. I see the rotation of her wrist and know exactly what’s she’s doing. Buchanan yells out in pain and drops to his knees. “Take me in if you like. I’d rather enjoy hearing the tale you’d weave about how a young American female tourist came to have your balls twisted in a dance club.”