Lucas Nicholas St. Alexander stood in the dark corner of the crowded room. His sharp eyes swept over the wild, sweaty body's gyrating on the dance floor as he looked for someone.
He cursed for the umpteenth time when he thought he'd lost him again. He must have noticed him tailing his car and he sped up until he lost track of his Ford.
He fished his phone inside the pocket of his leather jacket and stared at the monitor. The tracking device stopped there and he checked the grey Ford and saw it parked in the vacant lot behind the bar. He must be here inside.
If it weren't for the tracking device he secretly installed on his car, he wouldn't be able to locate him. He nearly gave up trying to find him.
Music blasted on the speaker beside the stage. He cringed so hard and uttered another curse but he barely heard it, his words got drowned against the noise.
