Wrong Number [18+] ✔️

Chapter|19.

*Alex*

Sadly...I had to leave Fallon in the middle of the night. I got a call from Marco, telling me that I needed to come to the club, immediately. Apparently...after the club closed, around 2:00 am, there was a fight that involved a few of our security guards and the police were there waiting to talk to me. It's never a good sign when the cops want to talk to you. Either I'm going to get sued or someone is going to jail.

Before I left, I quickly wrote Fallon a note explaining why I left and that I was sorry. I then placed it on her nightstand under her cell phone, knowing that she would see it there.

When I finally showed up at the club...sure enough five cops were standing outside leaning against the wall talking amongst themselves. I got out of the car and was immediately greeted by, Marco. I frown. His casual demeanor was completely shattered and was replaced with a mixture of anger and...fear!? I'm not sure but I know I'm about to find out.

"Boy am I glad to see you," he says running his fingers through his hair. It looks like he's done that several times already. "It's been crazy."

"What's going on?" I ask coolly. I have to be the calm one here.

"I'm not so sure," he sighs. "The cops won't tell me much. They want to talk to you."

"Which security guards are involved?" That's what I would like to know.

Marco shrugs, "I'm not exactly sure. I heard rumors that it was Chuck and Sam, but then I heard it was someone else entirely...I-I don't know."

It isn't often that my security is involved in fights. They break up a lot yes...but it's rare when the fight involves them.

I walk up to the closest officer and introduce myself. He's tall, muscular, and has dark brown eyes. You could tell his dark hair was cut recently into a crewcut— making him look a lot older than he is. He smiles and shakes my hand. His rough callus hand wrapped around mine, almost making it disappear.

"I'm Officer, Mark Camble," he says. "I'm sorry we had to pull you out of bed...but as you know, this couldn't wait."

"Not a problem," I tell him. "Now what seems to be the actual problem?"

He sighs, "Well it seems that your security roughed up a few of your...customers and now they want to file charges against them."

This doesn't surprise me at all. But I just don't see my security roughing up just anyone for no apparent reason. "I don't mean any disrespect and I know that you are just doing your job, but you're just going to file charges based on what...exactly?"

He seems to be annoyed with my insinuation and points towards a group of people standing off to the side. "Their testimony," he says. "They all gave a statement stating that your security singled them out."

"So you're just going to take their word for it without any evidence?"

"Their testimony is evidence," he exclaims. He then looks over at the group of very drunk individuals and sighs. "Unless you can prove otherwise, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take them downtown."

I nod. That will all depend on where the fight took place. I have cameras everywhere, but there are some blind spots. "Can I speak to them," I ask and he nods.

He leads me over to one of the patrol cars and opens the door. Sure enough, Sam and Chuck sit quietly with their heads down and their hands handcuffed behind their backs. When they both finally look up at me, you can see relief wash over their faces. They both look exhausted... And let's not forget that they both have visible cuts and bruises on their faces.