Paris
11
I’d spent the last five minutes trading flirtatious looks with the DJ. He was the same guy I’d met a few days ago outside the jewelry story, and he was even sexier than I remembered. Good thing he waved me over, so I wouldn’t have to approach him first. I didn’t want to look all thirsty like some of these desperate chicks that had been coming at him all night.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Sasha.
“Where you going? You’re not gonna just leave me here alone, are you?” she called after me as I stepped down from the VIP section.
“Trust me, I’m not going very far.” I gestured toward the DJ booth.
She glanced over there and saw my intended target. “Well, then, I approve,” she said.
I wasn’t worried about leaving Sasha. Rio would be back soon, and anyway, her little protest about being left alone was basically an act. She was not shy at all when it came to men.
Before I could knock on the door to the DJ booth, he had opened it, cheesing. “I see you came through. That’s what’s up.”
He gave me a hug, and I caught a glimpse of the diamond bracelet he was wearing. He may have been rugged, but he had great taste as well: two factors that attracted me. As I stepped into the DJ booth, I was surprised how much quieter it was. We could actually talk without screaming.
“I told you I might come check it out,” I said, swaying to the music.
“A woman of her word. I like that.” He smiled at me, displaying the shiny grills in his mouth that weren’t there before. “I guess I gotta be a man of my word and get you that drink. Just hold on a sec. I gotta change this song.”
He slid on his headphone and bent over his equipment. Meanwhile, I gave him the once over again. Damn, he was fine, and he had the kind of body that just screamed at a sister that he could throw it.
“I like that bracelet,” I said, touching his wrist when he turned back to me. “That shit is lit. I was looking at one just like it for my brother’s birthday right after I met you.”
His eyes shifted, and he pulled back his wrist. He was now on alert, but I could see him trying to play it off and remain calm. “Word? Did you get it for him?”
“Nah, the place got robbed while we were there.”
“Oh, for real?” He raised his eyebrows, looking both surprised and slightly uncomfortable.
“Yeah, can you believe it? It was robbed by a UPS man and a dude in some fly-ass Jordans.”
We both looked down at his feet. He was wearing the same damn shoes he’d had on when he robbed the jewelry store.
“You can tell a lot about a man by his shoes.” I gave him a knowing look.
“What you trying to say, ma?” He took up a defensive posture.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “That I should get two drinks—one for coming to see you, and the other for knowing how to keep my mouth shut. What do you think?”
He let out a sigh, and his demeanor relaxed. “I think you’re my kind of woman and you should get the whole damn bottle.” He waved over the cocktail waitress. “So, what’s your name?”
“You first, handsome.”
“They call me DJ Dee, but my name’s Denny. And you?”
I quickly went through my mental Rolodex of club aliases as I tried to decide which one to give him. This wasn’t an ordinary thug I was talking to. Whoever he was, he had swag and style, but more importantly, he was reckless and daring. Whatever name I gave him had to show him we were evenly matched.
“I’m Princess—”
My introduction was cut short by Sasha, who rushed up to the booth. I walked over to the door, totally expecting her to block. “That’s my friend. Hold on a second.”
“Hey, something’s up with Rio,” she said into my ear. “He hasn’t come out the bathroom yet.”
“Did you try calling him? Maybe he slipped out without you noticing.”
“Maybe, but I called and I sent him a text. He ain’t answer.”
“Shit.” There was some sort of commotion near the back of the club. “Excuse me, Denny. I gotta go check on a friend. I’ll be right back.”
With Sasha right on my heels, I rushed toward the back. There was a small crowd gathered outside the men’s room, all pressing together to try to get a better look. I pushed my way past all the nosy bystanders that were too afraid to go in.
“Oh my God! Rio!” I yelled as I entered, unable to believe my eyes. Rio was on the floor, bleeding. It looked like someone had kicked the living shit out of him. I rushed to my brother’s aid. “No, no, no,” I repeated, cradling his head.
“Is he alive?” Sasha asked, leaning down to check his pulse. “Thank God. He’s got a pulse.”
“We need to get him to a hospital! Somebody call a damn ambulance!” I yelled at all those stupid motherfuckers that were watching us, whipping out cell phones to take videos.
KD
12
“Looks like we got here just in time,” I said as we pulled up to the hangar of the tiny airport in Beaumont. A small Cessna was parked on the tarmac, and three men and a woman walked toward it. One of the men was clearly a bodyguard or private security, and the woman and the younger man were staffers. The older man was the one I’d come to see.
“Pull up right next to that sucker.”
“Not a problem,” Tyler said, flashing his cruiser lights and pulling up so close that I could damn near step out of the car and onto the plane.
“Congressman,” I said when Tyler opened the rear door for me to step out.
The bodyguard reached inside his blazer, but
