All is Lost (All Series, Book 2) (34 page)

Clearing his throat, he continues, “The
doctor’s prognosis is actually better than we could have ever hoped
with his type of injury. Trist will have to endure physical therapy
for a while. He said that's standard with most patients after
waking up from a coma.”

“
Okay,” I say, letting out a heavy
breath. I slide my hand across both cheeks wiping away my tears.
“There's something else though, isn't there? Something you don't
want to tell me. Marcus, whatever it is I can handle it. I know
that I've been unpredictable with my reactions when all this
bullshit started, but I think that lately I've been dealing with it
all much better since...”

“
Yes, you have.” He cuts me off,
tugging me back into his warm embrace. “And of course you're right.
There is more. I would just prefer to talk to you alone about
it.”

Assuring me that we will talk about it soon,
he directs his eyes toward Morgan and Sam, silently telling me that
he doesn't want to share whatever it is with them. Knowing that he
would tell me his secrets over them alerts my senses that something
fucked up is going on. Unfortunately, right now I have to get
changed. I have to work at the club tonight so our conversation
must be postponed until later.

Once at the club Ensley approaches flashing
the brightest smile I have yet to see come from her. She is always
so scattered with her emotions and I'm never sure which personality
will greet me. Tonight her happy girl is front and
center.

“
Bea,” She grabs me in a tight hug.
“It feels like it has been weeks since I've seen you. I guess that
is partially my fault since I've been staying with Tox for the past
two days. He's finally home from his trip, and I just can't get
enough of him. We didn't leave the bedroom for the first
twenty-four hours.” She giggles and winks like she let me in on
some big fat secret. However, this isn't the first time she's
bragged about their sexcapades, and I really don't give a damn to
hear about it again.

“
Great. So am I upstairs again
tonight?” I ask, diverting the conversation to a pg-13 topic,
hoping she will shut the hell up with her private shit.

“
Actually, you my friend are going
upstairs to meet the boss.” Still giggling, Ensley takes my hand
leading me upstairs to the far back office. Knocking softly she
smiles brightly at me once before entering the room. “Hey, I
brought up the new waitress for you to meet.” Speaking to the man
sitting behind the desk, Ensley gestures with her hand toward
me.

Tox is a large man with a muscular physique,
his jet black hair is slicked back. The heavy black eyeliner
combined with his red contacts really stands out against his pale
white tinted face and lips. His unbuttoned black silk shirt reveals
a well-defined six pack. He is in his early-twenties, much younger
than I would have guessed of someone running such a successful
business. Upon our entrance, he flashes a warm smile and stands
reaching his hand out to greet me. That's when I notice how tall he
is. Standing approximately a foot taller than me, Tox would be
frightening to meet in a dark alley, but with this friendly smile I
am convinced he is harmless.

Engaging in my Beatrice role, I smile
seductively and grip his hand sternly, while opening my senses to
determine if he is a good guy or not. Knowing that anyone that
works here or patrons here could be a link to the whereabouts of my
friends, I'm not taking a thing for granted and suspecting
everyone.

“
So this is the beautiful Beatrice
who has swept all the men off their feet. I swear every man in this
place hasn't shut up since I came back about how great you are. And
that makes for good business. So take a seat and Ensley,” He smiles
sweetly at her before continuing, “Will you bring me a scotch neat?
Beatrice would you like a drink?” He asks.

I watch his eyes and determine that this is a
test. He must know I'm too young yet he wants to see if I'll accept
it since he is the boss.

“
Actually no, I don't drink, but
thank you.”

“
Good answer.” Tox replies, walking
around the desk returning to his seat. “Forget the drinks,” he
orders Ensley.

She exits the room closing the door behind
her, muffling out the booming music coming from downstairs and
giving us a private setting to talk. Patiently, I watch Tox as he
flips through a file. He meticulously shuffles a few papers around
then closes it. He drops it into the cabinet attached to his desk,
shuts the drawer locking it, and finally slips the key into his
pocket.

“
Let's get the formalities out of
the way. Where are you from?” He asks, casting his eyes directly at
mine.

“
I'm from Chelsea.” I answer with
the well-rehearsed lie. “It's a small town in Alabama.”

“
Really?” He smiles, “Never heard
of it. Well, what brings you all the way to Willow?”

Flipping through my memory for Rhys cover
story, I straighten up in my seat and launch into the big fat
lie.

“
Man trouble,” I say dramatically
in a defeated tone, “I found a real winner, who treated me like
shit. Apparently, the whole town knew he was cheating on me. You
know what they say about being blind when you're in love?
Unfortunately, I got my vision back when I caught him in our bed
with the town skank. My cousin Rhys lives here. He invited me to
chill at his place for a while and really who could pass up a
chance to live on an island?” If possible, his smile grows even
brighter from my answer.

“
A girl after my own heart,” he
states. It feels like the truth so I smile sweetly at
him.

Needing some answers myself I ask him a
similar question. “Are you from Willow?”

His happy expression drops instantly and I
wonder if my nosiness offends him. “Actually, I guess you could
classify me as a rogue traveler. After my parents separated I
bounced around a lot. But Willow feels more like home than most
places I've lived.”

Truth

“
I have to say that in my small
amount of traveling I would agree with you on that
point.”

“
What do you think about Club Toxic
Beatrice?”

“
Well, I love the music and the
people are cool. But...” I hesitate telling him that his club
creeps me out. It might cause him to go apeshit crazy.

“
But, it's creepy, isn't it?” He
asks before I can finish, flashing another one of his brilliant
smiles.

“
Yeah,” nodding slowly, I'm
shocked, but add, “Especially at night when there is just a few of
the staff members left at closing. I swear this place is
haunted.”

Laughing heartily at me, Tox gives the
impression that is exactly what he was going for with the
ambiance.

“
It could be,” he says shrugging as
he smiles proudly. “I know Ensley must have told you that it was
formerly a mortuary.”

“
Yes, she did and I, for one, think
it is genius.”

“
Can't take the credit for that
one, it was entirely my dad's idea.” He sighs heavily.

Feeling something almost kindred after getting
the feeling that his relationship with his parents could be as
dysfunctional as mine, I simply nod my head in
agreement.

“
Alright, I guess that I'll keep
you.” He clears his throat and I notice a slight reddening creeping
up his neck. “What I mean to say is, you're doing such a great job
and it sounds like you need a break from real life. You have a job
here for as long as you want.”

“
Thanks, um Mr. ...” I trail off
not remembering if I caught his last name.

“
Tox, the formality of Mr. is
reserved for my father.” He smiles sweetly again, but this time it
doesn't reach his eyes.

“
Ok,” I smile back. “Well if
there's nothing else I'm going to head back out and sling some
drinks.”

He doesn't speak, but nods his head and I can
feel his gaze travel over the length of me as I rise out of my
chair. Moving swiftly to the door, I suddenly feel the need to
disappear. The look he gives me isn't one of appreciation, it is
more like recognition. Even though I've never seen him before
doesn't mean he hasn't noticed me here from the few times I came
with Anna and Tristan. I just pray that he doesn't place me and
reveal me to whomever the jerks are that have my
friends.

“
Hey Beatrice,” he calls out loudly
as I yank open the office door.

The music and heavy atmosphere instantly fills
the room. My anxiety leaps into my throat and I slip my hand up to
my neck, like I can ward it off by applying enough pressure.
Pausing, I glance over my shoulder and force a quick smile at him
before he continues.

“
Welcome to Club Toxic.” He winks
as I slip out into the hallway letting out a ragged breath and
dropping my hand from my neck.

***

Morgan

Scratching the nagging itch, for the hundredth
time, that this damn wig causes, has me really wanting to chuck it
in the trash can located behind the bar. At least I was smart
enough to opt out of the leather pants Marcus suggested, or I would
be scratching my balls all night too. Although, I know it is all an
act to flush out Breesan’s attackers and this really is a serious
situation, I have to admit playing dress up in this Goth wear is
kick ass. Usually when I make my appearance at Toxic I dress to the
nines, always Armani baby. When Marcus first explained their
stakeout he tried to talk me out of participating, even suggesting
if I do go that I could dress casual. I refused. If I am going to
do this I must be all in.

Taking my post at the lower level bar, I have
not spotted Breesan since we arrived. Marcus and Kole have rotated
positions a few times, going from the dance area up to the VIP
where she is stationed. From what I gather by their stressed looks
they have not seen her either. I’m not worried, Ensley said she was
talking with Tox and should not be too long. What I know about him
isn’t much, but he’s always been cool.

The plan they have implemented has not gained
them any new information so far. I can tell they are burned out on
this detail and could really use a break. Hopefully, I will be just
the thing they need with my contacts at the club.

“
Hey,” Marcus says. “I’m going to
need you to go over to the redhead at the second table and distract
her. She could blow this whole detail out of the water

“
Why?” I ask, scanning the area for
the girl. “Who is she?”

“
Wren Christie, she’s Breesan’s
cousin. She may recognize her and I haven’t been able to advise
Breesan that she is here. Until then, keep her busy. And whatever
you do, do not let her go upstairs.”

“
No worries,” I reply smugly,
knowing that once I turn on the Walker charm she will be a goner,
just like all the ladies.

Strolling along the edge of the dance floor, I
wind my way around to her table. Sitting alone, she spots me
observing the empty chair next to her. Raising one eyebrow up
combined with a sexy little smirk, she challenges me to be so bold.
Challenge accepted.

“
Let’s dance,” I demand
confidently.

“
I’m here with someone,” she
replies, but her flirtatious gaze roaming over the length of my
body indicates that whoever that dumb ass is, thinking it was smart
to leave this hot, little beauty sitting alone, just lost
out.

Clearly she is intrigued, her eyes are locked
on my abs. Choosing not to wear a shirt under my floor length,
leather duster, combined with ripped dark wash jeans and my black,
leather Doc Marten's was a genius idea.
She will be an easy
mark
.

I extend my hand out to her, emphasizing my
desires. She accepts eagerly and we sort our way through the crowd
toward the center of the masses. Getting her in the middle of the
dance floor, tangled up with all the other dancers is the safest
option on keeping her distracted long enough for Marcus to warn
Breesan.

“
You are confident. Does every
woman fall for your dominance?” She pants breathlessly, appearing
turned on by my command and forcefulness.

Mygod I do love a
submissive

“
If you’re asking if I am in a
relationship, the answer is no.” Pulling her body close, I sway our
bodies to the mournful, hard core song.

“
Oh, no,” she stammers, shifting
her eyes around like she is searching for someone. “That’s not what
I was doing.”

Perhaps she is afraid of what the guy she came
with will do finding her in my arms.
I do not need to get tied
up in another damn lover’s triangle.
That thought alone sobers
me up and I rein in the cad before someone gets hurt, namely
me
. I have had my fill of fights this past week to last a
lifetime. I will leave that shit to Marcus.

“
Do you live on this island?” She
asks, enraptured with the fake tattoo scrolled around my throat. I
offer her only a small, noncommittal grunt in reply.

Joined so closely together, I take this
opportunity to scrutinize her resemblance to Breesan and it is
remarkable how much of a dead ringer she is to my favorite
brunette. They match exactly in hair and eye color, but Wren is
nearly a half-foot taller than Breesan’s petite five foot four
inches. There is definitely a family resemblance with the porcelain
skin and sexy, plump lips, mesmerizing me at the moment.