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Hopping on my motorbike, I drove to the pub I liked to patronize the most. Since it wasn't yet evening, only ten people were around. I slipped onto the stool at the counter.

“Whisky.” I said to Beatrice, the woman behind the counter.

“Right away.” She butted her eyelashes at me seductively.

I looked away. Beatrice and I had fucked a month ago, and she'd since been trying to get me back into her bed. I wasn't particularly in the mood to fuck right now.

She delivered the shot of whisky soon. I swallowed it in one gulp and ordered for a second.

I couldn't stop thinking about Montse. I shouldn't have spoken to her the way I had done. She was just being her normal self and it wasn't her fault that I was in a terrible mood.

Beatrice regaled me with jokes and flirthy conversations while I stayed until it was night and people began to troop in. The club soon became busy with music and yelling men and strippers on the stages.

I wasn't interested in being part of them, nor was I particular fascinated with the strippers but I had to admit they knew their job well.

My plans of leaving soon was just about to be thrown away.

Because I wasn't immersed in what the strippers were doing, I was probably the only one who noticed as a man in suit came out from the hallway that led to the private rooms where customers could rent for a time to fuck each other or the strippers.

He was followed by two burly men who looked to be his bodyguards. What made suspicion hit me was the woman held between the bodyguards. She was struggling to keep up with them and was practically being dragged. She also seemed to be begging them.

Something was definitely wrong. My intuition was proved right when a guy stumbled from the hallway. He had blood all over his face and looked like he'd been beaten badly. He couldn't even stand properly on his feet.

Taking the last gulp of my tequila, I got up to my feet and slowly wove my way through the men until I got to the guy.

He flinched backwards when his eyes fell on me. He looked very beaten and so afraid. “Are you here to finish me off?”

“Where are they taking her?" I asked calmly.

The guy hesitated before speaking. “I don't know. That man is so obsessed with my Maria." He spoke frantically. “He doesn't get that she's left him, and when he found out she's been seeing me, he went on ballistic. He said she's now soiled herself and he has no use for her anymore. He's going to kill her. I just know it. Please help her if you can.”

Immediately, I turned and began storming out of the nightclub. There was no time to waste. I could hear the man struggling to keep up with me.

I turned to him. “Did you bring a car?”

He nodded and pointed with his chin. “It's over there."

It was an ash Toyota Corolla that looked like it had seen better days. When I stretched out my hand, he dropped the keys in them without having to be told.

As soon as I stepped, I went straight to to car. Unlocking the door, I entered the car. Turning the ignition, I waited patiently for the guy to get into the car.

“That's his car!” The man pointed at a Masserati moving down the road.

A car was approaching on the lane behind us but I cut in front of it. I could hear the driver hurling insults at me as I zoomed down the road.

Just so the bad guys wouldn't be suspicious, I made sure to follow at a safe distance.

“What are you doing?” The guy in my car yelled. “We'll never catch up with them if you don't step on the pedal!”

MikhailWhere stories live. Discover now