It was Dusty, sans makeup and clown hair.
“s**t,” Sean muttered.
“You killed her!” snarled Dusty, his face pure rage as he focused on Rockline. He wrapped both hands around the bat’s handle and swung it through the air in a downward motion as if he were splitting a log with an axe. When the bat met the top of a small, round table, shattered glass and alcohol sprayed through the air. The strippers fled to the back of the room, one of them tripping and falling on the way.
The blood on the bat had to have belonged to the bouncer at the door, otherwise the man would have been inside by now, checking on the sound of the chaos. What the hell did Dusty do to him?
Dusty suddenly made a beeline for the deejay, his teeth clenched like they were ready to split his jaw in two. CD cases flew from R
