Cado (4 page)

“Get back in the car,” Officer Moretti’s gravelly voice ordered as he flipped on his lights to follow me.

I raised my chin and stubbornly kept walking, silently hoping I didn’t step on glass, or worse, a needle. I didn’t live in the best neighborhood, and walking around in hospital booties was not the brightest idea. “Fuck you,” I repeated with more vehemence.

“Get in the car now before I really do cuff you.” Something in his tone suggested to me that he wasn’t bluffing, but I wasn’t about to give in. The next thing I knew, Officer Moretti was chasing me down the sidewalk brandishing his handcuffs.

I squealed when he caught and yes…cuffed me. He then slung me over his broad shoulder and carried me back to his car. “I’m reporting you for unnecessary force and police brutality. I’m going to have your badge by the end of the week.” He just snorted in response and flung me into the back of the car. “Yeah, you laugh now but I know people in high places.”

“You mean you give important men lap dances,” he grated.

“Fuck you,” I hissed, beginning to sound like a broken record.

“Yeah, you fucking wish,” he muttered. And that effectively shut me up, much to my shame. Because unfortunately that part was kind of true. Okay, more than kind of. I wanted him and was indignant that he felt like he was better than me. Okay, so maybe after our little misadventure I didn’t want him anymore…or fine…I’d still take him for a ride…but I definitely wouldn’t call him afterwards.

I sat in silence the rest of the way to my apartment and remained that way well after he’d escorted me to the safety of my home, uncuffed me and left me very much unsatisfied with his public services. It was just as well though; I had a few issues that ranked a bit higher on my to-do list above seducing Officer Hotty. Figuring out where I’d been for the last two days was definitely one of them.

I had so much to figure out, and yet all I wanted to do was to go back to bed for another few days. I was mentally exhausted from not knowing what was going on with me. I’d been missing for two days and yet I hadn’t been drugged and I hadn’t suffered any head trauma. I didn’t have the faintest inkling what possibly could have happened to me. I refused to believe that the golden god, Lucian, was more than a figment of my imagination. I just had to do a bit of detective work, which I hated, to figure out the truth of the past few days events.

Without any real leads, the best bet was to start at Club Elite, the last place I wanted to be at the moment. I wasn’t really in the mood to be Karma. Sometimes I hated my ‘public persona’. It was exhausting to play the ‘just smart enough’ stripper who was lovable, but not a push-over. We all wear masks though. In some varying degree, who we are usually ends up being what people expect… Only because people see what they want to. For me that’s always worked to my advantage, but it was still like playing a role. It was a comfortable role, one that I knew intimately, but still exhausting. And it was even more exhausting to stop and think about the cold hard reality that I’d probably die without anyone ever knowing the real me. If I caught myself in a moment of truth, when I didn’t feel the need to wallow in denial, that was my truest soul deep yearning… To have someone know me—to really know me—and to love me anyways.
It’s not the time to get lost in an existential downward spiral, as if there ever is a good time.
No, it was time to try to piece together the puzzle of the past two days’ events.

“Hey, Bert,” I said with a smile as I strolled into his office.

Bert’s expression turned from open and relaxed down into a scowl. “Where the hell were you?” His feet, which had been resting on his desk, hit the ground hard as he sat up. “With everything that happened around here with…” His voice dipped to a whisper. “The murders.” And it rose back up again. “I would have thought you’d have a bit more consideration. If you wanted to just go on a bender then you should have called off.”

I dragged my teeth over my lower lip and ran my hand through my loose hair. “Look.” I kicked his office door shut with my booted foot. “It’s really not like that. I—I really have no idea what happened. I thought I was drugged or something but the tests came back negative.”

Bert’s thick eyebrows rose up to nearly his hairline. “Drugs? You were tested?”

“Yep, went to the hospital and everything.” I flopped into the uncomfortable wooden chair opposite Bert’s large comfy one. I had a theory he kept that damn thing there to discourage people from staying long in his office. It was a spectacular plan, I was already shifting around and thinking about standing. I refused to fall prey to his little mind games though.

Bert sat back in his chair and sighed. “Why are you here, Tiffany?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I hated when anyone called me by my real name at the club, and for that reason I went to great lengths to make sure that no one knew it. The exception was Bert since I had to tell him to be a legal employee. Some strip clubs didn’t care, but Club Elite was on the up and up…unfortunately for my name security. “Karma. It’s Karma here,” I finally snapped, unable to hold it in. “I want to know if I can see the security feed from the night I was last here. Specifically from the camera outside the changing room.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Bert said, ignoring the correction of my name. “We checked the footage and nothing.”

I stood, leaning forward on his massive oak desk, my fingers pressing into the wood so hard they tingled. “Nothing? What does that mean, nothing?”

“Just that, there’s nothing there but snow. The thing is, it was only like that for a short period and then everything goes back to normal. It was basically a blip of a malfunction. I had someone come in to check the equipment and he claimed everything is fine.”

“Nothing? I don’t understand,” I muttered to myself. I flicked my gaze back up to meet Bert’s. “So basically you’re telling me there’s no record of me leaving that night? I have no way of getting any clues from you?”

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Bert asked, worry etched into the lines on his face. “If you are you need to tell me.”

I raised my hands in the air and backed towards the door. “I really don’t know. That’s kind of the problem.” I paused. “I still have a job, don’t I?”

Bert sighed heavily. “Yeah, you do. I can’t afford to fire you right now with how short staffed we are…after…everything.” I turned to leave as Bert called out, “Buuut—you need to go on tonight. You may not be on the schedule but I don’t care. Be ready to go on in an hour.”

My shoulders slumped. I’d been afraid of that. “All right. Fine. I need to swing by my place real fast to pick up my stuff and then I’ll be back.” I shoved out of Bert’s office in a foul mood. I ended up having more questions than when I’d gotten there. What the hell was going on? I had absolutely no theories and no leads. Could I just give it up and move on, hoping the missing days and security feed were a one time anomaly?

Of course I couldn’t. There was just no way I was going to let it go. I’d just have to think of another way to go at the puzzle of my missing days.
Maybe something will come to me while I dance tonight.

I hurried out of the club to retrieve my stripper gear.

On my way into my apartment, I brushed against a guy on the way out the front security door. I wasn’t on the prowl for a victim at the moment, nor did I really have the time for one, but the images came all the same. I saw the man in my mind’s eye beating a small puppy to death. Each blow reverberated in my chest, squeezing my heart painfully. The poor thing had cowered in the corner of a room, not fighting back until it was dead—loyal until the end even in the face of such cruelty.

I choked back a sob. People that hurt animals and small children deserved their very own special place in Hell. A special place where the flames were hotter and the torture more gruesome… If I believed in such a place as Hell.

I whirled around to trail after the guy. He was average build and height, although from behind it was hard to guess his approximate age. Not that I cared. His pants were a little too baggy and his sweatshirt was dirty, although I was about to make it a bit more so.

“Hey,” I called. “Hey, you.” He stopped and turned slowly towards me. “I need your help.” I ducked into an alley between two row houses, hoping he’d follow. I was guessing he would, the piece of shit that I knew he was. He would see it as an opportunity to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable situation. He liked to prey on the weak and defenseless. Wouldn’t he be surprised when he got a load of me? I bit my cheek to keep from smiling with anticipation.

I slid the small knife I always carried on me from my back pocket. I clicked it open with one hand and waited. Sure enough, the bastard came loping into the dark alley in search of me. “Over here,” I said, hoping to bring him closer to me without arousing suspicion. I wanted to do my dirty deed in the cloak of darkness therefore as far away from the streetlights as possible.

As soon as he was in arms length I swooped down in a graceful move, taking me within striking distance of his femoral artery. I slashed quickly, smoothly, and lethally. He made a shocked grunt, the pain probably too excruciating to handle, and crumpled to the ground, blood spurting into the air. I dropped down to finish the job, slitting his throat from ear to ear.

I glanced at my clothes, the dark red stains weren’t visible in the dim light but it’s why I chose to wear black most of the time. When vigilante justice was a way of life, one never knew when you would have to move quickly with doling out the punishment. I didn’t enjoy killing, not the actual act. The first time I’d done it, I’d tossed my cookies and spent a few hours in the shower trying to ‘cleanse my soul’. But the feeling of—justice—redemption—not for me, but for the victims of the pieces of shit that I killed—nothing could compare. I also didn’t kill everyone that I punished. I tried to let my sentences fit the crime. Sometimes I got carried away, like with my latest victim. I hadn’t been able to contain my wrath over the way he’d beaten the puppy to death. The horrific image of its crumpled body still hovered in my mind. Anyone who harmed such innocence deserved death. Probably worse, but I wasn’t delving into torture.

“A bit sloppy, don’t you think?”

A shiver raced up my spine and spread throughout my limbs, affecting my entire body. My eyes slid shut on their own volition, but only for a second. Then my gaze was gliding over Lucian hungrily. He stood just a few steps away from me, nearly touchable—touchable but beyond my reach somehow. His hair was shorter, darker too, and he wore another custom tailored suit. There was suddenly too much saliva in my mouth. I swallowed convulsively. There was a dead body at my feet and the only thing I could think about was running and jumping into Lucian’s arms, the very realistic figment of my imagination.

“Nobody asked your opinion,” I forced myself to say.

He chuckled, his laugh both dark and alluring. “I could help you.”

“A figment of my imagination isn’t going to do much of anything actually helpful.” I scanned the alley looking for somewhere to stash the body. It would be found, but not until after I was long gone. Nothing would link me to him, and frankly in a neighborhood like mine, no one would do much digging. At least I hoped. If any of my DNA was found on him, however unlikely, I could always claim he’d been a customer at Club Elite. Being a stripper was more of an alibi than most people would think.

Lucian chuckled again, sending more shivers throughout my system. “What must I do to convince you that I am as real as you are? I would have thought someone with your unusual…talents, would be a lot more open minded.”

He appeared directly in front of me, scant inches away.
Yeah, because that’s going to convince me.
His full lips tipped up into a sardonic smile, a sneer almost. “I know,” he murmured. “How about this?”

His mouth pressed against mine, parting my lips forcefully, laying siege in a manner that both weakened my knees and shot lust pumping through my veins. I clutched at his shoulders to keep from falling, but his arm had already snaked around my back to provide support. His taste was lush, decadent, a flavor just beyond definition, and yet it was familiar and welcoming. I swear I would have done him right there in the alley, dead body lying there and all, if he hadn’t pulled away from me.