Part 2 (2/2)
Val took a deep breath. The next thing to do was to watch the video in detail and record every clue she could find about where her and Margaret's attacks had taken place and who the perpetrators might be, then go back to the Pana Sea with the gloves off and start f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t up. Val opened her mouth to explain the plan to Stacey, but her voice choked before she could get a word out. A sob ripped from her chest instead. She put her head in her hands and cried as Stacey leaned over and hugged her tight.
Those evil b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. f.u.c.king Lucien. She would make them pay in the worst way possible.
After what felt like an eternity, Val pushed her despair away and regained control of her emotions. She let go of Stacey and wiped the tears from her eyes. ”Will you watch the video and take notes, please? I don't want to do it myself.”
Stacey nodded while pus.h.i.+ng away her own tears. ”I know they don't have a great track record with you, but you should really go to the police-”
”So they can shame me?” Val snapped. ”Quiz me on why I was there? What I was wearing? What I was drinking? How s.l.u.tty I was on a scale from one to ten?”
”We have the video-”
”The video doesn't prove anything! It can be explained away as an amateur s.e.x tape that I consented to and now regret. Especially when they find out I was pretending to be a hooker.”
”Val, please-they're not all like Sten. You can't do this alone.”
”I've got you.”
”We don't have the same resources as the police.”
”No, but we're not bound by their rules, either.”
”Let me go to the police, then. I'll make an anonymous complaint-”
”Don't bother.” Val checked her watch, then pulled her gun from her purse and racked the slide back. ”When my sister was raped, she was shamed and humiliated so badly she killed herself to make it stop. All the women who show up at our office come to us because no one else will help or believe them. You know what the police will say to me? That I learned a hard lesson: don't go home with strangers. Well, I have a lesson of my own to give.” She snapped the slide back in place. ”If you rape a woman, she might come back and kill you.”
Val drummed her fingers on her car's steering wheel as she watched the Pana Sea's back entrance from a street perpendicular to the entrance's alleyway. It'd been quiet until a delivery truck pulled up a few minutes ago. Now a team of two men unloaded boxes of liquor, swizzle sticks, and other supplies from the back and carried them into the building. One of the men was Eric, the bartender from the night before. After a few minutes of ferrying boxes, the other man motioned to Eric, communicating something while pointing to the street at the opposite end of the alley. Eric nodded, and the other man walked around the corner and out of sight, probably to run some errand. The coast was clear for Val to have a few minutes of quality alone-time with the bartender.
She hopped out of her car and hurried across the street at a quick trot, careful to stay out of Eric's line of sight as she approached. Val watched him from the corner until he went inside again, then she ran to the far end of the van and waited for him to wander back out. When his back faced her, she stepped out of cover and tapped him on the shoulder. As he turned toward her, she kicked him hard in the s.h.i.+n. Eric yelped and fell to his knees.
Val unholstered her gun and knelt beside him. ”Hi, Eric. Remember me?”
Eric clutched his leg and glared at her. ”You b.i.t.c.h-”
Val cracked him in the face with the b.u.t.t of her Glock. He tumbled onto his side, cheek to the pavement.
”Every time you call me that, I'll pistol-whip you. Consider it sensitivity training.”
He rubbed his cheek and cringed. ”What the f.u.c.k do you want?”
”The guy who approached me at the bar last night-he called himself Lucien. Who is he?”
”I don't know.”
She pistol-whipped him again. ”That's for lying.”
”I don't f.u.c.king know!” Eric spit blood onto the ground. ”He shows up every other month or so. One of the rich a.s.sholes who like throwing money around and bringing wh.o.r.es back to their little clubhouse. That's all I know.”
”Clubhouse? You mean he's part of a club?”
”Yeah-I think so. I don't know exactly what it is. I hear them talking about it sometimes when they're too drunk to keep their mouths shut. They call it the Blue Serpent. Only rich f.u.c.ks and their playthings allowed.”
Val touched the mysterious scar behind her ear. The Blue Serpent-G.o.ddammit, it was a high-end rape ring. What was it about having a lot of money that turned people into depraved sc.u.mbags?
”Was Celine with Lucien the last time you saw her?”
”No. She left with some redheaded guy I've only seen a couple of times. They call him Ginger. Real original.”
Val tapped her gun against her knee. ”What did you put in my drink?”
”Nothing.”
She whacked him in the face again. It felt good to make somebody pay, even a small fish. Eric writhed on the ground for a few seconds before pus.h.i.+ng himself up, leaning heavily on one arm.
”What did you put in my drink, Eric?”
”Nothing! I didn't do anything to your G.o.dd.a.m.n drink, bitc-” He scowled at the pavement and wiped his mouth.
Val stood and pointed the gun at his head. If he was lying, he'd die. She didn't think she could stop herself.
Staring down the barrel of her gun, and maybe also sensing how willing she was to kill him, Eric's face crumpled and he burst into tears. ”I didn't do anything to your drink, I swear! I just work here. I have nothing to do with those rich a.s.sholes. Please. I have a girlfriend, and she's got a kid and I'm like his father figure...” He sobbed, soiling the pavement with his tears and snot.
If Eric faked his pathetic pleading, he deserved an Oscar. Val rolled her eyes at the blubbering man, then sighed and lowered her gun. ”Find another job, Eric. This place is about to go out of business.”
She stepped around him and left the way she came.
Chapter Six.
Val bit her lip as she sat in her car, parked a safe distance from where she'd roughed up Eric a few minutes earlier. She stared at Max's face and phone number cued up on her cell. They hadn't talked in months, not since they'd broken up-not since she broke up with him, specifically. She'd tried to explain to Max how Delilah was always watching her, how they'd only been pushed together so they would have a child-a child that would be stolen from them. How they couldn't trust anyone. He swore they could work it out, pleaded with her to fight for their future, but she'd cracked. Throughout their time on the lam together, when Max had been wanted for murder, she'd accused him of running from his problems. But in the end, she was the one who ran. She was the weak one.
Per Eric, the Blue Serpent was a rich-d.i.c.ks-only club. Max was the only rich d.i.c.k Val knew personally. If she was going to infiltrate the club, it was either through him or not at all. No way would she try seducing another anonymous wealthy guy again. She swallowed hard, gave herself a figurative kick in the b.u.t.t, hoped he hadn't changed his number, then dialed him up.
The phone rang several times, then went to voice mail. ”This is Max, leave a message.”
”Uh, hi. It's...it's me, Val. I know you can probably tell it's me from your caller ID, but, you know, in case you deleted my number or whatever...” G.o.d, I sound like a loser. ”Anyway, um, I need to talk to you-”
Her phone vibrated against her ear. She held it out to see someone trying to call her at the same time she left a message-Max. She switched over to him.
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