His laugh is low, knowing, like he’s already planning his next move. And I force myself to keep smiling.
By the time my shift ends, my nerves are shredded. My cheeks still burn every time I think about that kiss, about Shadow’s voice chasing me across the bar.
I duck into the back room, strip off the damp apron, and sling my bag over my shoulder. Kasey’s waiting near the hallway, twirling a set of keys on her finger. When I approach, she quirks a smile.
“Still want that hideout?”
“Yes,” I breathe, maybe too quickly.
She grins, tilting her head. “Follow me.”
We head down the corridor and past the office until she stops in front of a narrow door half-hidden behind a stack of crates. It looks like nothing, just a storage cupboard. She fishes out a key and pushes it open.
Inside, it’s nothing like I expect. A single lamp throws warm light over a small space she’s transformed. There’s a battered loveseat against one wall, a low table stacked with magazines, even a string of fairy lights draped haphazardly overhead. A blanket lay folded neatly in the corner.
“Ta-da,” Kasey says with a little bow. “My own secret room. Whenever I need to get away from the noise, or the men, I come here.”
I step inside, my chest loosening for the first time all day. “It’s perfect.”
She drops onto the loveseat, curling her legs beneath her. “And no one comes looking. Not even Axel. They all think it’s just where the spare cleaning supplies are.”
I sink down beside her, pulling my knees to my chest. “You’re a genius.”
“Obviously.” She smirks, then softens. “Seriously, though, if Shadow’s crowding you, you don’t have to face him until you’re ready. Stay here as long as you want.”
Still, a part of me knows it’s only a matter of time before Shadow comes tearing through walls to drag me out.
Chapter Eleven
Shadow
She was just here.
I’d been watching, pretending I wasn’t, but I was. Every move behind that bar, every fake smile she gave Ragnor. One second, she’s pouring a drink, and the next, she’s gone.Again.
I push off the table where I’d been sitting, scanning the room. My jaw tightens.
“Where’d Remi go?” I bark at the nearest prospect.
He blinks, startled. “Uh, dunno, brother. Thought she was still behind the bar.”
The fact no one clocked her slipping out sets my teeth grinding.
I stalk towards the bar, checking the back room, the bathrooms. Empty. Each door I shove open just winds me tighter.
She’s like smoke—every time I get close, she slips through my fingers. And it pisses me off.
Ragnor’s laugh drifts across the room, sharp as glass. My head snaps his way. He’s leaning against the bar, an easy grin in place. My gut says he knows something.
I shove past a couple brothers, closing the distance. “You seen Remi?”
His grin widens, deliberate. “Not my job to keep tabs on your girl.”
“She’s not my—” I bite the words off, heat crawling up my neck. “I’m just trying to keep her safe, brother. Have you seen her or not?”
He takes a lazy sip of his whiskey. “Maybe she just needed space. You ever think of that?”
Space.The word makes my palms itch. She doesn’t need space. She needs looking after. And if Ragnor’s steering her somewhere, if he’s the reason she’s gone . . .
