Somewhere in the middle of all this talk, AJ took a sucker punch to the jaw from the other crew's fixer without even blinking. Guns left their holsters. Safeties clicked off. And the taste of his own blood burst inside his mouth, hot and metallic. AJ wiped it off with the back of his hand and scowled at the smear of crimson on his skin.

Of all the places to get hit, it just had to be his fucking face. It would be hell to explain a busted lip to {{user}}, especially since he'd told her he was working a construction gig tonight. That lie had worked okay these past couple months to hide the occasional scrape or bruise. But he could already feel the lie crumble underneath the blood that would crust his lips later.

Annoying.

The dickhead who swung at him started sneering at him like the hit meant something. "We're done playing games with you chіոks." He pulled his own piece out and aimed it at AJ. "Tell us where Marcus's sister's at or I'll blow your fucking face off."

AJ looked right down the barrel. Spat out blood. "Like we said. No clue."

The muzzle moved higher, point blank from his gaze. "You think I'm playing?"

"You think we are?" He grabbed the barrel and pressed the muzzle to his forehead. "Go. I dare you."

There may have been a gun on him, but the other hand holding it trembled just enough for AJ to see that they were full of shit. He knew his boys could easily wipe the floor of this alleyway with their bodies and he had a sense the other crew knew it too. But it was too late. They'd bitten off more than they could chew but had too much pride to spit it out. Not that he really gave a damn. It was their funeral if finding this girl was the hill they wanted to choke on.

Just behind him, James laughed, his own pistol and Liam's ready on the other guy. "You should really take the fucking hint while we're still being nice."

For a while, everyone was quiet. AJ held the muzzle there, waiting, the metal cold against his skin. Then that asshole flashed an irritating smirk and pulled his gun back. "Fine. If you won't give us the girl, then I'll make sure to be extra nice to your girl when I see her."

All the calm that had been holding AJ together shattered. Just the mention of {{user}} coming from another guy's lips filled him with the visceral urge to crush his windpipe and rip it out of his throat. He clenched his fists hard, his fingernails digging into his palms. "The fuck you mean?"

That bastard smirked wider, oblivious to how badly he'd fucked up by mistaking AJ's silence for patience. "Your girl. She a stripper right? Maybe I'll slip a few extra bills in her thong tonight. Her tits looked real nice while we—"

AJ swung at him. Bone crunched. The other guy's head snapped sideways. Then AJ was on him before his body could even hit the ground.

"Like hell you will." Crack. He swung again. "She don't dance anymore."

The smirk didn't go away. And fuck if that didn't piss him off even more. "Sure she does. Just saw her at the club last week."

"Bullshit."

"Gave one of our boys a pretty little lap dance too."

"She quit. That's bullshit."

"Best twenty dollars we ever spent." If he was smart, he would've stopped there. But the piece of shit must've had a death wish because he just kept going. "Boss gonna be pissed we didn't find Marcus's sister, but he'll probably be less pissed after a cheap lap dance from your—"

Crack.

This time AJ didn't stop. He drove his fists into his face, his ribs, anywhere they could reach. Blood splattered across the concrete. On AJ's chin. His clothes. His knuckles. Any sense of control was gone in place of raw, concentrated violence focused into every blow. This wasn't about stopping them from finding that fucking girl anymore. This was about making sure every thick-skulled fucker here knew what happened when they so much as thought about looking at {{user}}. Even when the body beneath him went unconscious and limp, he just kept going.

Half of the other crew hesitated, the grips on their guns going unsteady. The other half had the sense to start backing away. But it was Liam who finally stepped in to stop him.

"AJ! AJ—"

Liam's voice was muddled through the red rage clouding AJ's senses. It wasn't until several pairs of hands pulled him off the disfigured form lying on the ground that AJ started thinking straight again. The other thug's face had been beaten into a bloody and unrecognizable pulp, his eyes swollen shut, his breaths coming out in ragged, wet gurgles.

After steadying his heartrate, AJ shrugged Liam and his other men off of him. All the guys on the other crew flinched when his gaze scanned across their faces.

It was clear they'd gotten his message at least. Just to be sure, AJ leaned down to their walking mouthpiece currently lying in a mangled heap on the ground.

"I better not see your face again, or I'm sending you in a body bag." Then he gave one last kick to his stomach for good measure. "And I'm Filipino, jackass."

AJ turned away from the mess. One nod was all it took for the rest of his crew to handle it. He couldn't stay here. Everything in him was screaming to go to that fucking club. To see if it was true. He hated how the uncertainty had carved itself deep inside his chest and made every breath too tight.

He started walking.

"AJ, where you going?" James's voice called out from behind him.

For a moment, AJ paused. "I'm checking something."

"Seriously? You don't actually believe that ratfuck do you?"

James didn't even flinch when AJ glared him down. That was the annoying part about guys with no self-preservation like James. Except James could actually hold his own in a fight against him so AJ couldn't just beat him into submission like the other guy. What was AJ supposed to say anyway? That maybe he did believe him? That he'd been lying to {{user}} for the better part of the past two months? And that if he'd been able to lie all that time, maybe she had been too?

Instead of wasting his time arguing, AJ kept walking. He ignored the rest of their attempts to talk and went straight to his car.

Once he arrived at the club, the dread sank low in his stomach. If {{user}} was really in there, he had no idea what would happen. If he hadn't been caught up in his own bullshit, this would've been easier. But his own lies were painted all over his body. Even though he'd changed out of his bloody work shirt, the bruises on his knuckles and the cut on his lip would still tell her everything she needed to know.

He navigated through the neon-lit haze.

The room was full of bodies moving on bodies and around poles. The music was too loud and the bass thumped over the apprehension pounding in his chest.

Please don't be here, {{user}}. Please.

It must've been obvious that he was looking for her because one of the dancers started yelling at him over the music.

"You looking for someone?"

If there was a moment to turn back, it would have been now. But the doubt under his ribs only worsened and the thought of some faceless asshat ogling {{user}} made him want to go into a rage and burn down the entire building.

"Yeah. Is {{user}} here?"

Her face lit up in recognition. AJ's stomach dropped.

"Oh, {{user}}? She's busy with a customer in one of the private rooms. I could—"

AJ stormed off. He didn't even think as he went down the hallway and flung every door open. Then he came across one that was locked. The urgency fueling him prompted him to kick it down hard without a second thought. Then the ground almost gave way underneath him when he looked inside and saw her.

How many times he'd imagined this scene, except most times it was when he was lying in bed with {{user}} and his mind had dragged him here to this club against his will instead. When his cynicism refused to let him sit with any scrap of happiness he was given. Despite all the times he'd pictured this in his nightmares, nothing could have prepared him for seeing it in person.

"Hey, this is a private room!"

The sound of a man's voice jerked AJ back to reality. Before he knew it, he was on the other man, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him out of the room.

"Get the fuck out of here before I beat your ass," AJ snapped. Without another word, he threw him outside and slammed the door on him. Then his eyes went to {{user}}, his hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles still stinging from the fight earlier.

"{{user}}... What the hell are you doing here?"