Read Online Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) by Elle Casey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elle Casey
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reflection and decide they’re really not that far off in that assessment. Normally I’d stop and fix my frizzy hair and mangled eyebrows, but I don’t have time. I cannot believe this is happening. I have to get out of here and find Teagan.
I spin around and leave the bathroom, heading back to the bar. All the games I was playing with Mick are silly and stupid and gone from my head. Guilt assails me. Why did I leave her for that guy Mark? Why didn’t I just focus all my attention on the only person who matters in this entire building? Selfish, selfish, selfish.
I hate myself so much. Tears come out and I’m sure they’re ruining my makeup, but I don’t care. As I push through the crowd, I feel the glue coming undone on one of my eyelashes, but I ignore it. Who cares about eyelashes? My friend has been kidnapped!
I get to the bar and Mick is there, staring off into space.
“What are you doing?!” I grab the edge of the bar and lean in, screaming in his face. “Call the cops!”
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
I spin around and leave the bathroom, heading back to the bar. All the games I was playing with Mick are silly and stupid and gone from my head. Guilt assails me. Why did I leave her for that guy Mark? Why didn’t I just focus all my attention on the only person who matters in this entire building? Selfish, selfish, selfish.
I hate myself so much. Tears come out and I’m sure they’re ruining my makeup, but I don’t care. As I push through the crowd, I feel the glue coming undone on one of my eyelashes, but I ignore it. Who cares about eyelashes? My friend has been kidnapped!
I get to the bar and Mick is there, staring off into space.
“What are you doing?!” I grab the edge of the bar and lean in, screaming in his face. “Call the cops!”
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
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