He frowns at me and holds up a finger in my face.
My jaw drops open at his audacity. My best friend is probably on her way to being killed and he’s shushing me with a finger!
I reach out to grab it with plans to break it in half, but I stop just as he begins to speak. “Okay, I’ll let her know.”
He breaks out of his trance and looks at me. “Teagan is fine. She’s upstairs with Olga.”
I’m momentarily speechless. Olga? Who the hell is Olga? I’m picturing a fat woman with a moderately heavy beard. My suspicions that Rebel and his brothers are somehow connected to the Russian mafia are heightened. They certainly look the part. And Olga? Oh, yeah. Something’s definitely up here.
“Show me the stairs,” I say when I finally get my tongue working again.
“You don’t want to go up there. Trust me.” Mick grabs a rag and wipes off the bar in front of me. He’s letting another bartender do all the work. Normally I’d be flattered to get all this attention from a bartender in a club, but right now all it does is annoy me. Mick is not helping.
“Actually, I do want to go up there. Where are the stairs?” I look around, trying to figure out what direction to go in.
“Fine, you want to go? Go. They’re over there in the corner. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He points to a spot just to the left of the entrance to the club just as he’s pressing something near his hip. “Rebel, she’s with Olga. Olga says you can chillax now and go back to the front door.”
I rush away from the bar before I can hear the rest of their conversation. Whoever this Olga person is, she must run the show.
I find the stairs in the purple black-lighted corner and use the railing to guide me and keep from falling. Everything is dark - the walls, the floors, the railing … only the lint on the carpet that is glowing from the purple lights shows me where anything is.
As I get near the top of the stairs, a door flies open above me and Teagan appears. I don’t even need to talk to her to know she’s furious.
Right behind her is a tall, blonde woman. I recall seeing her here once before, the first time we came to the club. It was the fateful day that Rebel took Teagan’s driver’s license away and started this whole thing with her.
“Come on,” Teagan says, racing down the stairs towards me. “We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” I think I’m about to watch her go right by me, but she grabs my upper arm and drags me behind her. I have to grip both sides of the stairwell to keep from falling. My calf-shoes are not good ballet shoes, and I go from cool to fool in less than a second as I scramble to stay upright.
“Hey, ease up! I’m about to break both ankles here.” Good thing I have strong butt muscles. They’re the only thing that save me from a hospital trip.
“Sorry,” she says, letting me go. Her voice is full of the tears she’s about to let loose. “I have to get out of here right now.”
“Okay, I get it, I get it.” I stand up straight and begin a more orderly descent.
Rebel appears at the bottom of the stairs and Teagan stops suddenly. I bang into her and have to grab one railing with both hands again to keep from falling the rest of the way down. She barely sways forward at the impact, all her attention on her boyfriend.
“Hey, babe. What’s up?” he says. I can hear caution in his voice, and I’m thinking he’s a pretty smart guy for being worried.
“Get out of my way, Rebel.” Her tone is cold. It sends a shiver up my spine, so I can only imagine what it’s doing to her main man. I think he really does love her.
“What’s wrong? What’d she say to you?”
“Just the truth, which is more than I can say for you.” Teagan continues down the stairs and pushes by him.
He reaches out and grabs her wrist. “Where are you going?” he asks. He clamps his jaw down when he’s done talking and his facial muscles bounce around. He’s pissed or worried. If I were him, I’d be freaking. Teagan doesn’t usually get this upset this fast unless it’s something major.
“I’m going somewhere you don’t need to worry about. Now let me go.” She jerks her arm out of his grip and continues towards the door.
He looks at me and says nothing. He’s furious; I can tell by the storm clouds that have moved in over his head. They make me feel like I’m at fault for some stupid reason. He’s got mad guilt-trip skills.
“Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t do anything!” I breeze by him, trying to keep up with Teagan. I have to take short, choppy steps to run in these stupid shoes.