Page 30 of Who's Saving You
“Get him up here.”
Dante nods and turns to the guards behind us. They speak into their microphones, tapping their earpieces, and we watch as two men seem to appear out of nowhere. The one guy grabs Rhett’s arm, and he protests before the other guy leans down and says something only meant for him to hear. I grin to myself as I see Rhett’s face go ghost-white.
There’s the fear he needs.
He gets up from the booth and is flanked by the two security guards as they make their way to the back exit of the club and come up the back stairs.
Last I saw him was about a year ago. We happened tobe at the same party, though I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. I was there making sure the back-house ran correctly, and he was there to play in it. Of course, he didn’t know the betting ring had anything to do with me; he thought I just happened to be on the floor for a drink with some other NFL hopefuls.
He looks the oldest he ever has and has the strong smell of cigarette smoke on his clothes. He’s gained some weight, but he’s still got that twitchy energy under his skin like a man always halfway to running. The security guards urge him to sit down, and Dante and I turn from the glass window and approach him.
The moment he recognizes me, I laugh. “What's the matter, Rhett?” I say as I sit down next to him. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Saint.”
I hold my hand up. “I’m not Saint here. I’m not anything here. Got me?” My tone is cold and threatening. Though I’m risking what he may say outside of these walls, I have to set the scene right from the start and hope I scare him enough to keep quiet.
Rhett chuckles, but there’s a flicker of unease in his eyes. “Still charming as ever, Nik.”
“Stop using my nam–”
Dante leans forward, cutting me off. “What are you doing here, Rhett?”
He leans back, crossing his ankle over his leg. “Can’t a guy just enjoy a drink?”
I shake my head, his cocky attitude making me angry. “Not when that guy is you. Who are you working for in Mistletoe Falls?”
Rhett glances between us as he fidgets in his seat. “Man, I work for a lot of people. You don’t think he’s theonly one I got business with, do ya?” He throws his chin toward Dante.
“I know you've got business everywhere. Just wondering if any of it bleeds together.”
“Never.” He studies me. “I kept my mouth shut since that game–”
“No one said anything about that game.”
He swallows, the lump in his throat visible. “Just saying, I switch out phones with every new job. I don’t keep records and–”
“Sure you do, Rhett.” I tap my temple. “You keep it all up here.”
“Not that stuff. I’m serious. Once a job is done, I’m out. I don't want it coming back to me.” He swallows hard and looks like he wants to say more, but is afraid. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes, tapping the bottom, and I reach out and snatch it from him.
“No smoking in here.” I crinkle the pack and toss it behind me. “You hear anyone talking about anything lately?” I want to press and see if he’ll break. I’ve no idea what kind of information Noelle has dug up since the other night, or who knows what she’s been asking for. But just the mere mention of sophomore year has me trying to close it off on all ends. Her poking around could crash everything around me.
He stares out the glass window now realizing where he is, and that he’s been watched all night, and asks, “You own this place?”
“Dante owns this place.” I snap, and Rhett smirks.
“What’s that look for?” Dante asks.
Rhett shakes his head. “There’s a guy who calls himself Ghost. He’s a freelance fixer, so to speak. I was assigned a job. Stop some chick from running her mouth.”He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Ghost sent me, so here I am.”
I feel Dante watching me, but I won’t look at him. I stare at Rhett. “Running her mouth about what?”
He finally looks at me. “I don't know, man. They say she’s some reporter who’s asking too many questions.”
The way he says it makes my stomach turn for both myself and Noelle. Rhett had something to do with those two men cornering her, I just know it. It makes me want to reach out and slit his throat for what they could have done to her if I hadn’t shown up.
Dante motions to Rhett. “Why come to my bar?”
