The limo sped away from the seedy apartment building, taking Lacey away to the safety of the mansion. Puma hoped they would not be followed. She should never have brought Lacey into this rat hole area. Lacey. Shit, the girl could be her Achilles.
In two days, Shawanda Johnson would turn thirty-one-years-old. She had been back in La La Land for eight months. The world of tennis was behind her. The world she now lived in was a violent battle for justice. Looking both directions, she hurried across the street, then entered the lobby of the Salacious Lady. The doorman looked at her.
“No cover for you ma’am,” he said. Visibly shaken at who had just entered, he moved back, crouching against the wall behind him.
With a sly wink, she spoke to him, “Run boy.” He jumped to his feet and fled through the front doors.
The bouncer sat playing solitaire, heard the door open and glanced up, then returned his attention to the cards. A split second later a cold shiver ran down his spine, as his eyes darted to the door again. Jumping to his feet, he rushed her, but ran straight into her gloved fist slamming into his face. The man toppled to the floor.
