Page 30 of To Catch a Sub

“Ah.”

Landon set down the suitcases and leaned against door frame. “Do you think I’m bad at my job?”

“No, I think you’re good at your job. It’s why I came to you.”

“Then you don’t trust me.”

“I do,” she lied. “It’s why I came to you.”

It wasn’t a full lie, because she did trust him.

To a point.

But he was the law, and she was a criminal, and at the end of the day they would both be loyal to their respective side of that line.

“You say you trust me, but think I’d bring you someplace where it would be easy to find you.” Landon arched a brow. “Either you think I’m stupid, don’t trust me, or both.”

Colette blinked, shocked that he’d backed her into a verbal corner. “I…” She blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.”

That was something normal people said, right? People with traditional jobs said things like that on a Friday afternoon, then squandered their meager free time doing chores.

Landon’s face was shadowed in the gold light of late afternoon. “The reason I had the cab drop us off around the corner has nothing to do with protecting you, and everything to do with protecting Club Alibi.”

She raised a brow. “Protecting it from…?”

“Becoming a tourist destination. People love, and tip Black Cabbies well, for information on locals-only and secret clubs.”

“Ah, you don’t want it to be like Torture Garden.”

Landon’s brows rose, but as his mouth opened to say something the door opened.

Colette jumped, her nails digging into her palms.

“The lady knows her clubs.” The man standing in the open doorway wore loose pants and an unbuttoned dress shirt that left most of his chest exposed. His hair was the gold-toned light brown of someone who’d probably been blond as a child. He had a narrow nose and high cheekbones. He was partially backlit by the lights in the club, and his eyes appeared to be the same golden-brown of his hair, but were probably hazel.

“Torture Garden is hardly an underground secret any more, though it always has amazing performances.” Colette automatically made the words teasing and flirty, drawing out the last word suggestively.

“And the queue is always mad.” The man returned her smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Her instincts were screaming at her that whoever he was, he was dangerous.

“Are you going to move so we can come in, or keep posing?” Landon grumbled.

The man’s smile turned into a smirk and he stepped back.

Landon motioned for her to enter first. Taking one hand from her pocket, while leaving the other one in place so she could hide her nervous fist, Colette walked past Landon, into the warehouse.

“Welcome to Club Alibi,” the golden-eyed man said. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

* * *

Landon snarled silently at Andrei, who was standing way too fucking close to Colette.

Landon put his hand on her shoulder and she jerked in surprise, his touch seeming to break the freeze Andrei’s words had put her in.

“Stop it,” Landon told Andrei, using his hold on Colette’s shoulder to tug her away from him. “Get the bags.”

“I don’t know that he should stop,” a new voice said.