“I’m sorry.” I gave her a sloppy hug. “I’ll be home soon.”
We’d staggered to the corner of the building where a small parking lot occupied a narrow alley.
“Are you walking?” she asked.
“I guess so.” I’d driven to the Mill, not wanting to walk through Southside in my going-out clothes, but I hadn’t counted on drinking so much.
“Me too.” She linked her arm with mine. “Walking buddies!”
We were heading in opposite directions, and I realized this was a bad situation to be in: both of us drunk and walking home alone.
I thought briefly about calling the Butchers, but I’d already called Poe once when June’s car hadn’t started after work. I really didn’t want them to think I needed to be rescued 24/7.
I was still puzzling over the problem when two guys stepped out of the Mill.
One of them was the guy who’d tried to buy me a drink when we’d first sat down, the other a guy his age, a tall blond with chiseled features and a physique that said he spent a lot of time in the gym.
“There you are,” the dark-haired guy said, coming toward me like we were old friends. “How about that drink?”
I held up a finger. “Ssstill a no from me.”
Shit. I was really drunk. I was slurring my words.
“Still a fuck off from me,” Bailey said.
We laughed.
The dark-haired man closed the distance between us in three steps. He grabbed my arm, backed me into the lot next to the Mill, and shoved me against the side of the building.
I was so shocked, I froze.
“Hey!” Bailey yelled, coming around the corner.
The blond guy grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground as he dragged her into the alley too.
Panic rang like a five-alarm fire in my mind. I was pinned to the building by the dark-haired guy, his hands moving roughly up my skirt as the blond started to pull Bailey deeper into the alley.
I tried to shove the guy off but he was leaning into me, his body weight immobilizing me as he grabbed at my underwear.
“You think you decide?” His laughter was bitter and his breath reeked of alcohol. “You don’t decide.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure she decides.”
The voice sounded vaguely familiar and came from somewhere behind the dark-haired guy.
He looked over his shoulder. “What the fuck?— ”
It was all he managed to get out before he went flying.
I recoiled from the scene in front of me — three huge beasts in animal masks, two of them moving toward the dark-haired guy who’d gone sprawling, the other heading for the blond, already backing off Bailey with his hands up.
It took me a minute to realize it was the Butchers, wearing the masks they’d worn in the Hunt.
I knew Poe from the tattoos on his arms, and he came toward me as Bram — easily identifiable by his sheer size — stalked toward my would-be assaulter.
“You okay?” Poe asked.
I was drunk, the mask surreal and terrifying. But I knew that voice.
