04 - Born to be Wilde.txt (16 page)

Lora navigated her way through the crush of bodies, and grinned when she caught sight of Sydney up on the main bar, dancing right in front of where Daniel was sitting. True to her word, Sydney was executing some of her best dirty dancing moves—gyrating her hips to the beat of the music, hands brazenly tracing her alluring curves, fingers stroking across the bare, flat expanse of her belly exposed by her tight, cropped T-shirt. As if that weren't enough to make a guy hard, she grabbed the brass pole at the end of the bar and spun around it, all long legs, voluptuous breasts, and smooth, provocative moves she'd perfected during her days as a stripper.

Dozens of guys crammed against the bar, whistling, cheering, and overall encouraging Sydney as she slid up and down the pole, but Lora knew that her tempting, teasing performance, and the hot promise in her eyes, was all for Daniel. But unlike the frat boys making fools of themselves, Daniel played it cool, refusing to outwardly react to Sydney's attempt at seducing him. Instead, he sat casually on the barstool, watching her with an appreciative male smile as she ran her hands through her long, wavy hair and swayed her hips in time to the music.

Lora had to give Daniel credit for maintaining his composure so well when every other guy in the place was clamoring to get her attention with the hopes of getting their own private performance. The fact that Daniel wasn't responding to Sydney's sexual overtures made Lora hopeful that he'd be the one guy who could get past Sydney's bold and brash personality to the softer, sweeter woman beneath all that bravado.

Once she finally stepped behind the bar, the disarray of liquor bottles, dirty glasses in the sink, and nearly overflowing garbage made Lora realize that she'd be far more helpful if she washed up the glasses and restored some order for Sydney and her backup bartender before they returned to fill drink orders again. In fact, she figured she could at least take the two bags of trash out to the Dumpster and be back before the song was done, which would give them more room to move around behind the bar.

Setting her tray down, Lora grabbed both bags of trash and made her way down the hallway that led to the men's and women's restrooms and the employee exit that connected to a back alley and the Dumpster they used. Like she'd done a dozen times before, she pushed the door open and twisted the bolt lock so that the metal bar kept the door from closing and locking behind her.

Cold, damp wind assaulted her as she stepped out under the small four-by-four awning protecting her from the rain that had begun to fall sometime during the past few hours. Unfortunately, the Dumpster was across the alley, and she cursed beneath her breath as she ducked her head against the rain and sprinted toward the garbage bin.

Of course, Mother Nature chose that moment to open up a thunder cloud and let it pour. Lora lifted the metal lid and quickly tossed the bags of trash inside, just as she heard the employee exit door open, then shut securely behind her with a solid click.

Panicked, she whirled around to find two big men pulling ski masks over their faces as they strode purposefully toward her from the door she'd just walked out of. She stood there, frozen to the spot, a foreboding chill racing up her spine that had nothing to do with the fact that she was nearly soaked to the skin by the ice cold rain and wind.

Before she had the chance to react to the imminent threat, and before she could draw the breath to scream for help, one of the men grabbed her, spinning her around, and clamped a strong hand over her mouth. He pulled her head back so it butted against his shoulder and he could hold her immobile. She caught the flash of something long and shiny right before she felt the sharp prick of a blade against her neck.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her heart slammed painfully against her chest and her legs went weak at the realization that nobody was going to come to her rescue. Not when no one knew where she'd gone. Eyes wide with terror, and fearing the absolute worst, an involuntary whimper escaped her throat.

The other masked man stepped in front of her, lifted an open cell phone, and snapped a few pictures of her in the midst of being attacked. The flash went off, and Lora blinked furiously to clear her vision and keep her wits about her.

"Got it," the accomplice said in a low, gruff voice, then snapped the phone shut.

The guy behind her pressed his mouth near her ear. "Maybe seeing these photos will remind your brother that we're serious about getting our money back. Dead serious. And next time, we'll stick around and let you provide a down payment." The hand at her neck slid down and gave her breast a hard, brutal squeeze, leaving no question in her mind exactly how they'd exact whatever payment they were after.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here before someone comes looking for her," the other man said urgently.

"You scream, and it will be the last sound you make." The hand covering her mouth fell away, then the man behind her shoved hard between her shoulder blades. Lora tripped forward, lost her balance, and fell onto her hands and knees on the ground. Gritty asphalt scraped across her palms, and the torrent of rain pelted her back and soaked through her hair to her scalp. She remained in that position, waiting for the sound of running footsteps to fade away into the distance. Then, and only then, did she push to her feet.

A sob caught in her throat and tears stung her eyes as she stumbled back toward the employee exit and the promise of safety. She pulled on the handle, and let loose another hoarse sob when the slab of metal didn't so much as budge.

She could hear the loud music blasting from inside the bar, could feel it vibrating against the outer walls of the building, and knew the noise would drown out the sound of her knocking. She thought about going around to the front, but she was too terrified of running into the two men again.

So she pounded desperately on the door anyway, praying that someone, anyone, would hear her attempts and let her back inside.

ONE minute Joel was watching Lora work behind the bar, grateful that she wasn't up on the stage dancing for the customers like the rest of the employees, and in the next minute two big guys directly in front of where he was sitting jumped up from their seats and started yelling at one another in a heated, drunken argument. Joel automatically stood, too, just as the pushing and shoving match between the duo escalated into a fistfight.

And that's when all hell broke loose. Acquaintances of the two fighters surged forward to defend their friends and ended up a part of the hostile exchange and physical assault. Boozed-up patrons encouraged the brawl by rooting for their favorite team. Chairs crashed to the ground and a table tipped over, spilling drinks and bottles of beer across the floor. The obnoxious noise and the shuffle of bodies finally caught the attention of one of the dancers from atop a counter, and she quickly signaled to the bouncers that there was trouble that needed their attention.

Knowing it might take a few minutes for the two brawny security guys to work their way to the back of the bar, Joel stepped in to help pull the two apart before someone really got hurt. He'd seen his share of bar fights over the years, and it was just a matter of separating the two most aggressive opponents in order to get everyone else to back off.

With the assistance of another sober patron willing to step into the fray, they managed to secure the fighters' arms behind their backs so neither one could throw any more punches. As soon as that was accomplished, the rest of the crowd settled down. By the time the bouncers finally arrived, the fight was under a semblance of control, and it was just a matter of escorting the disruptive group out of The Electric Blue.

Once the ruckus had come to an end, business went back to normal and Joel sat down at his table, his gaze automatically searching the place for Lora. She was no longer behind the bar, and as far as he could see, she wasn't in the main area, either. Figuring she probably went to get something from the storeroom, or needed to visit the restroom, Joel waited for her to reappear. Long minutes passed, and he drummed his fingers restlessly on the table as he grew increasingly impatient for her to return. Finally, unable to sit tight any longer, he got up and headed across the room to the bar, where Sydney was back to making drinks.

He sidled up to the counter next to Monique, who was waiting for one of the bartenders to fill her drink order. "Have either of you seen Lora in the past ten minutes?" he asked, loud enough to be heard over the blaring music.

Sydney shook her head as she reached for a bottle of liquor and poured a generous shot. "I haven't seen her since that fight broke out."

"Me, either," Monique said as she added a pineapple wedge and cherry to a fruity-looking drink. "I'm sure she's out in that crowd somewhere, probably clearing tables or taking drink orders."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Joel didn't bother telling Sydney and Monique that he'd already scoured the main area from one end to the other for Lora, all to no avail. Considering nobody knew his real purpose for being there on a nightly basis, he didn't want to appear too anxious or worried.

But as the seconds ticked by with no sign of Lora, her absence definitely started to concern him. Leaving the bar, he casually headed down the hallway leading to the back of the establishment. The door to the office was closed and locked, but he rapped his knuckles on the solid wood, anyway, just in case she was inside. There was no answer, so he did the same thing at the storeroom. Again, nothing.

There was only one place left to look, and Joel was desperate enough to infringe on someone's privacy in order to locate Lora and give him the peace of mind he was searching for. He pushed open the door to the women's restroom and glanced inside. The three females standing at the bathroom mirror immediately stopped their chatting and primping and looked at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Then the woman in the middle, with big blond hair and even bigger breasts, gave him a sultry once-over. "Hi, sugar," she drawled as a come-hither smile curved her glossy lips. "Looking for someone?"

The interested look in her kohl-lined eyes told him that she'd gladly be that person, but he did nothing to encourage her hopes. Instead, he cast a quick glance toward the stalls and experienced a jolt of frustration when he found them all wide open and unoccupied.

"Yeah," Joel replied calmly, even as his tension and unease seemed to coil into a tight, strangling knot within him. "But she's not here. Thanks, anyway."

Where in the hell was she?

The question ate at him as he let the restroom door shut. He turned to head back to the bar to give it another search just as he heard a loud pounding at the employee exit door at the end of the corridor. Jesus, had Lora accidentally locked herself out of the bar? Frowning, he started in that direction, and as the banging grew more frantic, he tried to ignore the apprehension spreading through him.

He pushed the door open and found Lora standing on the other side, a torrent of rain deluging the ground beyond the small, protective awning she was standing beneath. Still, she was absolutely soaked to the skin—from her hair all the way down to her work shoes. Her wide eyes were filled with gut-wrenching horror, and her expression reflected a stark fear that sliced straight to his soul.

Joel immediately reached out to her, and as soon as she realized it was him she collapsed into the safety of his embrace, buried her face against his neck, and broke down crying—deep, convulsing sobs that wracked her entire body. He wrapped his arms securely around her, and feeling the vivid terror emanating from her, he instinctively knew that this wasn't a simple case of her getting locked out.

Something bad had happened, and he hadn't been there to protect her. His remorse was overwhelming, but he forced his own emotions aside to focus on Lora and making sure she hadn't been hurt in any way.

She was clinging to him like he was her lifeline, and he gently grasped her shoulders and pulled her away so he could see her face, which was now streaked with tears and smudged with mascara. "Jesus, Lora," he said, his tone gruff with his own painful recriminations. "Are you okay?"

She stared up at him, a fresh surge of tears welling up in her green eyes. "Oh, God, Joel," she choked out as her hands gripped the front of his T-shirt. "There were two guys… and they had a knife and… oh, God!" She squeezed her eyes shut, as if the memory of what had happened was too horrible for her to go on.

They had a knife. The words slammed through his mind like a brutal sledgehammer. His own panic increased, and he gave her shoulders a small shake to get her attention again. "And what, Lora?" he demanded. "What did they do to you?"

"They held the knife to my throat… and threatened me." She sucked in a gulp of air and buried her face in her hands, shuddering at the memory.

Rage flowed through Joel's veins, and he wanted to kill the men who'd dared to lay a hand on Lora—no thanks to him! He tipped her chin up with his finger and glanced at her neck, and felt physically ill when he saw the long red scrape marring her smooth, creamy flesh. His rage boiled over into a white-hot violence, and it took everything in him not to slam his fist against the metal door in fury and frustration.

"Lora?" Trisha, one of the bar's waitresses, who'd been heading toward the women's restroom, now rushed down the hall toward them. "You're soaking wet. What happened?"

"She got locked out in the alley in the rain," Joel replied before Lora had the chance to launch into another round of hysterics. "I need to get her into the office where it's warm and dry. Who has a key?"