Dirty Weekends (The Weekends Duet, #2 - MC Romance)

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32. Vanessa, where are you?


Vanessa


I was having so much fun the night flew by. After the girls and I had our dinner, and chatted about everything and nothing, we ventured onto other things. I wasn’t completely sure how we ended up at the pool table and playing with the guys—mostly bikers.

I stood by the side, pool stick in hand as I watched Goliath help Patricia play pool. I was well versed, going through the same song and dance with Don, and so far, I was winning the game. Nazanin was off to the side talking to Dandelion and other men of the club. I guess this was the closets she’s ever been in the company of a motorcycle club. Judging by her facial reaction,

I was tipsy as hell. I was certain that if I took another drink I’d be shit-faced. There was no gradual decent into the bottom of an alcohol bottle for me. No way. I pursed my lips when Patricia—well I might as well say Goliath—put a ball down the hole.

“I might as well be playing him,” I said and glared at Goliath.

“Well, you’re not and it’s my go again,” Patricia grinned, moving around the pool table.

While she took her second shot, I glanced at the row of drinks beside me and the tall glass of water. Goliath must’ve put it there, probably seeing that my movements were becoming for sluggish as time went by. I was about to grab another drink when I Goliath grumble. “Don’t think that’s wise.”

I gave him a side eye. Despite every bone in my body screaming to protest, I knew he was right. With a sigh, I shifted my hands to the glass of water and drink it all. Ah, I was starting to feel better.

“Melanie?”

“Vanessa, where are you? Do you know what time it is?”

I sobered up real quick.

“Shit!” I hissed. I scanned the bar for a clock but couldn’t find any. Pulling my phone away from my ear, I check the time. Ten minutes to midnight. Fuck! “I’m at Red Devils.”

“With Don?”

“No… I mean, yes,” I said. I didn’t need her to worry even more. Although, I was in good hands.

“I know I’m no longer your guardian but damn it, you live with me. The best you could do was let me know you’d be out for longer.”

“Yes, yes, auntie, I know I’m sorry,” I said, grabbing my coat from the booth and rushed to the front doors. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Goliath straighten his posture. He was ready to follow me out the building but I held up a hand.

“I’ll be right outside the doors,” I whispered, not waiting for his response as I rushed out.

“You’re okay, yes?” Melanie asked. At first, her voice was muffled due to the loud music in the bar blaring behind me. The second I stepped outside she was clearer.

“Yeah, I’m good. Fine,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. The fresh air was good against my skin. Pressing my fingers against my heated cheeks, I said. “Are you okay? I don’t want to keep you for long. You don’t have to wait up for me.”

For a long moment, I was greeted with silence. Then a sigh came through. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let me know when you’ll be back okay?”

Smiling, I answered. “I’ll be back soon.”

I ended the call. The air was cold, unusually cold, and I tightened the hold of my coat. I closed my eyes. I wanted to stay out a little longer. Just to gather my bearings. I was caught up in my own little world that I didn’t realise that someone was approaching.

“Vanessa?”

Gasping, I swirled on my heels to come face to face with Muerte. Darkness shadowed over him and behind I could see his motorcycle. How long has he been standing there? I was sure I would’ve heard the loud roaring of his bike he’d just appeared. I scanned the area and looked up at the light shining around me.

I placed my hand on my chest and let out a relieved sigh. “Jesus Christ, you scared me.”

A smirk played on his lips. “Not Jesus.”

“Right,” I said and smiled. “What are you doing here? There’s no fun being out here when the party is inside.”

I pointed to the building and Muerte’s gaze darted to the red door, briefly, before returning to me.

“Actually, I was but only to find you,”

“Find me?”

“Yeah,” he said with a slow nod. He smiled but it looked out of place, not matching his vibe. Whatever feelings I experienced in that moment were lodged into my subconscious because he was Muerte. Don’s uncle. Or dad. Shit! “Actually, I got a call from Don and asked for me to pick you up. He’s been busy but wants to see you.”

“Oh,” I said, checking my phone for any messages but I got nothing. He did say Don was busy. Maybe he only had time to make one call and that happened to be Muerte. “Okay, well, where is he?”

“At the clubhouse. Come on, I’ll drop you off,”

Placing a hand on the door, I was about to walk in and said. “Alright, let me get my bag.”

“Don’t worry, get on the bike, I’ll get it for you,” he responded, waving the air as if he doesn’t mind holding a woman’s bag.

“Um, okay,” I said, pulling my coat tighter around me while walking past him, heading for his bike. The sound of my heels echoed against the gravel ground, drawing my attention to it’s rhythm. In fact, I was so distracted by the sound that I didn’t hear Muerte enter the building.

I was about to turn around but then a thick arm circled my waist, pulling tight against a hard body. On instinct, I thrashed around, fighting to be set free but the man behind—the man I soon recognised to be Muerte by his scent—was strong. I tried to scream but then a hand covered my mouth. A hand with a cloth covered in chloroform. I couldn’t hold my breath long enough. Eventually, my lungs burned, betraying me, and I breathed in stale air. My muscles weakened, and my eyes grew heavy.

The next thing I knew was darkness.



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