I decided to head back to the room as I was feeling tired and depressed. I needed a good night’s sleep so that I would be refreshed in the morning. I needed to know why Brandon was coming to the club. I prayed to God that Katie was questioning him about whatever suspicions she had. I only wished that I had been able to speak to her for a little bit longer before Brandon had taken the phone. I turned the corner and walked to the room, and was surprised to see the door open.

“Don’t make me look like a fool again.” David’s voice was loud and angry as he spoke, and I froze.

“Leave her alone, David.” Nancy’s voice was urgent. “She’s nice.”

“She can help us.” David’s tone was lower now. “If we want to get them, we can do it through her. She’s our best shot. We can finally get justice.”

“I don’t know.” Nancy sounded worried. “I just think that...”

“What they did.” David’s voice broke. “Justice has to be served for what they are doing to these women.”

“But...” Nancy said something else, but I couldn’t hear. I quickly backed away from the room since I didn’t want them to know that I knew David had gone back to the room. So I’d been correct: David knew Nancy, and from I could tell they were very well acquainted. I tried to think about the other facts I knew. Elizabeth seemed to know Frank and Nancy had said something about Frank as well. So, maybe all four of them knew each other. But it didn’t really add up. And who were the two guys I’d seen in the hallway? I was now thinking I’d seen Frank and David talking. That would make the most sense. But then who were they talking about? Nothing was adding up. Was Frank also an undercover cop, then?

I rounded a corner and heard some music playing from a room at the end of the corridor. It sounded like an old Edith Piaf record my uncle used to play when I was growing up, and I walked toward the music to see what was going on. This was a part of the club that I’d not been in before. It seemed more residential and homey. There was no office or dorm feel to this section, and I suddenly felt uneasy. This was a part of the club I was pretty sure I wasn’t meant to be in. I pressed my ear against the door to see if I was correct in my musical guess and almost jumped a mile when the door opened.

“Hello, Meg.” He looked at me with closed eyes and a short smile.

“Greyson.”

“Came to beg me for some more?”

“Some more what?” I asked dumbly, staring into his vivid blue eyes.

“You know what!” He looked me over and ushered me into the room. “Want to come in?”

“I was going to my room.” I shook my head and mumbled. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Your room is nowhere near here. How’d you wind up down this corridor?”

“I thought I had someone playing Edith Piaf.”

“You listen to French music?” He looked at me in surprise.

“Not really. But I did growing up. My uncle used to play her records a lot.”

“That makes me feel old.”

“You’re not old.”

“I’m too old for you.”

“Is that something you’ve been thinking about?” I asked hopefully, allowing my emotions to get caught up again. Maybe this was something special and out of the ordinary for him as well.

“Not really.”

“Oh.” Disappointment filled me and once again I felt like a bit of a fool. That emotion was becoming too familiar to me, and I hoped that it wasn’t going to continue.

“Come in for a bit and have a drink.”

“I thought we weren’t allowed to have alcohol.”

“Most of the girls aren’t.” He nodded. “But you’re a special case.”

“I am?”

“You know that already.”

“Why, because we...” My voice cut off. I couldn’t bring myself to say “fucked,” and I knew that what we had done wouldn’t be considered making love.

“Come in and have a seat.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room. I looked around eagerly and was surprised to find myself in a room that resembled a comfortable living room.

“Do you live here?”

“Sometimes.” He smiled and pointed me towards the couch. “It’s not my only home, but I spend many nights here.”

“It’s nice.” I sat down on the couch. “This is really comfortable.”

“Isn’t it? He laughed and sat down next to me. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thanks.” I shook my head and watched as he picked up a glass off of the table and took a sip.

“Want some?” He handed me his glass and I shook my head. “It will warm you up, I know how easily you can shiver.”

“I’m quite warm as it is, thank you.”

“Are you always this combative?”

“I’m not combative.” And then I laughed. “Well, not normally.”

“Have a sip of whiskey.” He tried to hand me his glass again, and I sighed.

“This is peer pressure, you know.” I made a face as I took the glass and sniffed it. “I don’t really like whiskey.”

“That’s not surprising. It’s more of a man’s drink.” He smiled. “Now drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Twining?”

“I don’t think that I need to.” He looked into my eyes then and gave me a small smile. I shivered at the truth of his words. He was right, of course. He did not need to get me drunk in order to have his way with me. Shoot, at this point all he needed to do was touch me and I would become putty in his hands.




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