Knight - Page 72/81

“Mr. Nair –”

“Live quiet,” he whispered Knight’s words and I shut up. “Minute it started heatin’ up for him ‘cause ‘a the way he looked, the fact he won almost every f**kin’ race he was in, f**kin’ fearless, f**kin’ crazy, he bailed and went into business with me.”

“It would seem you’re determined to say what you have to say but it would be nice if you got down to saying it. Like I told you, I have things to do.”

“Took it all from me,” he said softly and that unhappy trill slid up my neck again. “Turned tail, went to Costa Rica. Does somethin’ to a man when another man makes a fool ‘a him. Not a f**kin’ dollar changed hands and he maneuvered it all right out from under me. Stole the whole f**kin’ thing. The club. The girls.”

My legs locked and my face must have changed because he smiled in a way I did not like.

“Oh yeah,” he said, still talking softly, “Nick guessed it.”

Oh God!

Nick!

Now that Sandrine had calmed her shit, he was going to be the death of me.

“Nick doesn’t know anything,” I snapped.

“Nick knows Knight sells pu**y.”

I stopped breathing.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone eager, enjoying this and I knew I was giving it away. “You didn’t know. Good girl. Just lookin’ at you, I can see you’re sweet, honey. And have no clue your man sells pu**y.”

Oh my God.

I didn’t move. I wanted to. I wanted to run. But I couldn’t.

Drake Nair wasn’t done.

“Took my club, took my stable. Those were,” he leaned in, lost it for a second and hissed, “my girls.” He leaned back, pulling himself together as he kept his eyes locked to me. Then, “Don’t know, have no f**kin’ clue how that boy’s mind works, but I figure he got into all that business with me knowin’ he was gonna steal my stable. He was always about the girls. So he took it all from me. You his woman, a sweet, classy, good girl, what I ‘spect he always wanted but never, knowin’ what that boy is, what he came from, who he’ll always be, would get. You gotta know, it makes me all kinds ‘a happy lookin’ at your face right now, knowin’ this struck deep, knowin’ you know you can get anybody so you don’t have to take a man who sells pu**y.”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” I said softly, “I’d like you to leave.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. But I got one thing more to say.”

I opened my mouth but he walked swiftly to the desk and instead I took a step back, my fingers curling tight on my phone.

He put his hand on the desk and kept talking.

“You can get over that, I’ll give you this. He doesn’t only run pu**y through my club, he runs drugs. You’re in bed with filth, Anya Gage. You don’t pull your shit together, like Knight Sebring was, is and always will be, that’s all you’ll ever be.”

And with that, he turned and walked out of my spa.

I stared at the door and did this a long time, my heart racing, my breath coming short.

Then I turned my head and looked out the windows where I last saw Nick.

He was there, standing looking through the windows, eyes on me.

Smiling.

He set that up. He set me up. He set his brother up.

Douchebag motherfucker.

I jerked my head away and walked as calmly as I could muster into one of the cordoned off nail stations and away from Nick Sebring’s eyes.

Then I deep breathed.

“Hold the f**k on.” I heard Vivica say in my head.

Okay, all right.

“You might hear f**ked up shit about me from a variety of sources. But you talk to me before you react. I will confirm or deny, I will be honest and last, I will explain. If it’s shit I don’t want you to know yet, I’ll explain that too and you’ll wait until I’m ready. You feel you can’t, then, babe, you still f**kin’ talk… to… me before you leave me.”

Okay, all right.

Right.

Right.

I lifted my phone, activated the screen and called Knight.

He answered on ring two.

“Babe.”

“Drake Nair just left and he told me some things about you,” I whispered and I did it quickly, my voice breathy.

Silence. Total. Complete. A whirling void of terrifying nothing.

Then, softly, “I’m at the club. Come to me right now, baby.”

“Okay, Knight.”

“Right now, Anya, babe.”

“Okay,” I agreed quietly.

I disconnected, walked swiftly to the foot of the stairs and shouted loudly but still shakily, “I’m going, guys!”

“Later, Anya!”

“Later!”

I turned and walked quickly to the desk, shoved my phone in my purse, threw it on my shoulder and hustled out.

Then I hustled down the block to Slade. I’d been there during the day on occasion and it never failed to kind of freak me out. It was weird during the day.

I didn’t notice it then.

I just opened the door and walked into the cool, vast interior that seemed eerie not jammed with bodies, flashing with lights or drowned with music.

Almost instantly I saw Knight striding swiftly toward me.

I moved to him.

When we met, he didn’t say a word but grabbed my hand, changed directions and I hurried to keep up with him.

On the stairs up to his office, making my heart leap in my throat, my belly knot and drop, he surprised me by stopping, turning and lifting me up in his arms. I didn’t know if he was impatient with me having trouble keeping up or if he wanted me close.

I didn’t ask.

But I hesitated before my arms slid around his shoulders to hold on.

Knight noticed everything. He noticed my hesitation.

I knew it when, his voice terse, tight, pained, he whispered, “Fuck me.”

We got to the top, his torso dipped and he opened the door. He carried me into the office, the door closed behind us and he gently set me on my feet.

Quickly, I took three steps away.

My heart clenched because he let me.

“Do you sell pu**y?” I whispered.

He closed his eyes slowly and my nose started stinging.

“Knight?” I prompted and his eyes opened.

“Got fifty-seven girls,” he stated immediately.

Oh God. God!

“And drugs?” I was still whispering, but it was around a clogged throat and sounded croaky.

His head jerked and he asked, “What?”

I lost it and my voice pitched high and loud when I snapped, “Do you sell drugs?”