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About thirty minutes later, I pulled up in front of Freckles.

The club looked completely different during the day.

At night, the whole front lit up. The FRECKLES sign glowed above the entrance, blacked-out windows kept anybody outside from seeing what the fuck was going on inside, and depending on the night, there’d be a line stretching down the sidewalk before we even hit our real rush.

Right now?

The sign was off.

Sunlight hit the dark windows and bounced right back off them. A black SUV belonging to security was parked near the side entrance, Tyler’s truck was already there, and two of the girls’ cars were sitting farther down even though we didn’t open for hours.

I pulled around back.

“Why we here this early?” Xay asked.

“Business.”

“What business?”

I backed into my spot.

“Mine.”

I put the car in park.

Xay looked over at me.

I opened my door.

That ended that conversation.

The second I stepped out, the cold air hit me. I pulled my hoodie down around my waist, shut the door and hit the lock once Xay climbed out.

The back entrance had a camera directly above it.

Another one caught the alley.

Another covered the parking area.

I didn’t believe in blind spots.

Never did.

Especially not after seven years of having every move I made watched by somebody else.

I punched the code into the back door, waited for the lock to click, then pulled it open.

The smell hit first.

Bleach.

Liquor.

And whatever lemon shit the cleaning crew used on the floors.

No perfume yet.

No weed smoke.