“Wait,” I tell the driver. “I’m getting out.”
No one objects since it’s to see Maddox, and the second I open the door, his whole face lights up.
He hops off to greet me, but there’s a hint of contrition lining his grin. “Hey there, baby girl.”
“You’re still here?”
“Of course,” he says, pulling me against him and kissing my hair. “I told you I would be.”
Did he?
“Can I ride with you?”
“Always.” He lifts a helmet, as though he planned this. “You want to go talk?”
Talk?About that night. About why he hid things from me. About why he made me come back to work and why he bought my apartment building and why I need guards around me now.
“You’ve been protecting me.” It’s a statement because I see it now.
“Yes.”
I loop my purse across my body and lift my long skirt, knotting it around my thighs so it won’t get in the way. Maddox rakes his gaze up my bare legs, but doesn’t utter a sound while I process my thoughts.
After about thirty seconds of my silence, he hooks his knuckle beneath my chin, worry etched in his features. “Where to? Home?”
“Yeah.” I think about my empty apartment and change my mind, shaking my head. “Can we go to La Lune Noire actually? Or is that … is me being with you against the rules?”
“There is no rule I wouldn’t break for you.”
The air in my lungs billows out, so I grab the helmet he’s still holding. “That’s good. Take me there, but … I don’t want to talk.”
He nods in understanding, but doesn’t make a big deal about it. He fastens my chinstrap, gets on the bike, taps the seat for me to follow, and bestows some of his suave cockiness. “Press those sexy curves against me, Nightmare. And don’t let go.”
MADDOX
The wind whips around us. The midday sun ricochets off buildings and vehicles and the Mississippi River. The rumble of traffic and the howl of the city harmonize with my riding playlist. I would have turned the helmet mics on, but Tessa doesn’t want to talk, and my mind is racing. As it is, we could have been back at La Lune Noire fifteen minutes ago, but I needed time to breathe. And more time with her body molded to mine, her arms tugging me closer, like she knows she’s right where she belongs.
Her declaration that she didn’t want to talk was clearly an invitation to fuck her, but she complicated it by asking to go to La Lune Noire. She doesn’t want me in her space, and instead of focusing on the invitation, I’m obsessing over what that means.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Deciding enough is enough, I veer to the right with a turn low to the ground, taking the back roads home. “Riptide” by Vance Joy guides us into the resort’s safe-harbor entrance, and Tessa squeezes my waist, either in question or appreciation. Regardless of her reasoning, I clutch her arm in return. She’s only seen this area twice. The first was when I brought her andViolet here to be examined. The second was when Kane’s men drove her out of here the day she gave me that earth-shattering blow job.
Once we’re waved in, we cruise by the check-in station, and two more security guys rush out to assess the situation. Like our members, we only enter here in an emergency. When everything gets turned upside down and immediate intervention is required—whether that be medical attention, a cleanup crew, an alibi, or some other save-your-ass measure—this is the place.
Idling my bike, I pull off my helmet to update them. “We’re good. But I need a female wig, a mask, and a discreet escort into The Corpse Reviver Cabaret. You can meet us with the items at the two-way mirror.” I cut the ignition and toss one of them the key. “Park the bike in my garage.”
“Right away, sir.”
With that, I help Tessa off the motorcycle and guide her through the sliding doors connected to our urgent care and triage area. Once we’re inside the passageway that leads to the front of the resort, she removes her helmet and lets out the knot in her dress. The fewer people who recognize her, the better, even though the guards won’t open their mouths.
“Why Corpse Reviver?” she asks, stringing her fingers through her staticky hair.
I take the helmet and grab her hand. “Thought we could use a drink, and I need time to set things up.”
She accepts that, so we breeze through the walls in silence until we turn the corner to the concealed entrance into the cabaret. The guard is waiting with an auburn wig and an ornate black mask. I trade him my helmet for the items and help Tessa disguise herself.
The advantage of going incognito at La Lune Noire is that half our guests do the same, for a whole host of reasons. The resort is neutral territory, a haven for our members. While wedemand that peace be kept here, that’s rarely extended beyond these walls. So, in their line of work, people knowing their whereabouts in real time is always risky. No one will think anything’s off with Tessa’s getup.
