That explained his absence.
I resisted the urge to curse and kick and scream and throw shit.
Ice cold water. Distant shore.
Find a way out.
“It doesn’t matter. We will figure this out. Look at me.” I waited until she did, and I squeezed her hand before dropping it reluctantly and forcing a big smile. The last thing we needed was to draw concern from anyone around us. “You’re not going home with him tonight. This all ends here. Okay? Trust me.”
She nodded, trying to mirror my smile, though hers trembled at the edges.
“This time tomorrow, you and I will be drinking the best smoothies in town and book shopping. Yeah?”
That earned me a little choke of a laugh, and she nodded again, surer this time.
I smoothed a hand over my suit, turning my attention to Georgie. “I need to check something. Can you stay with her? Don’t let her out of your sight.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’ve got her.”
I squeezed Ariana’s hand one more time — brief but deliberate, a reminder that she wasn’t alone — and then I turned away.
I did my best not to hurry, to make it seem casual as I followed the path Nathan and his friend had carved through the crowd. When I slipped out of the ballroom, the noise from the band quieted, but the party raged on outside as I carefully moved along the perimeter, listening.
Nathan’s voice reached me before I reached him.
“I will handle it.”
I followed the sound, catching just a glimpse of the man who’d raised my hackles before I backed away and out of sight. I slowed my pace, angling myself behind a cluster of heaters and greenery, edging close enough to hear without being seen.
“He was supposed to sit,” the man said, and though his words were accusatory, his voice was croaky with uncertainty, like he wasn’t sure he could stand up to Nathan.
“I understand that was the original call, but sometimes things change.”
“We had the under, Nathan,” the man snapped. The edge in his voice was unmistakable now — panic sharpening into anger. “You told me you had control of him.”
“I said I’d handle it, Ron,” Nathan said smoothly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“What exactly is there to fucking handle at this point?” Ron shot back, and through the plants I was hiding behind, I saw him snatch Nathan by the arm. It earned him a death glare, and Nathan shook him off even as he continued seething. “You said he wouldn’t play. He scores twice and now I’ve got people breathing down my neck. People who don’t like being fucked with.”
Ron’s croaky voice was louder than he realized, louder than Nathan liked — and loud enough to draw attention. I tried to sink back farther, to be unnoticed, but there was a couple at a cocktail table who had gone silent, both of them turning to see what the commotion was.
“Things got complicated,” Nathan murmured. “Now quiet the fuckdown.”
“You don’t get to be sloppy,” Ron hissed. “Not with my money.”
Nathan lowered his voice, but now another table had angled toward them. “I’ll make it right,” he said, smiling and shaking Ron’s hand as he grabbed his shoulder and acted like they were old pals. “Now, let’s get you a drink. Hmm?”
“Are you working with another bookie? Is that what this is?”
Ron’s words echoed over the party, and anyone within twenty feet turned their head.
There was no mistaking the wordbookie.
Before Nathan had the chance to charm his way out of it, commotion stirred from inside the ballroom, the clattering ofglassware and the abrupt screech of the band ceasing spilling out onto the lawn.
And then, a loud, angry voice.
“Where is he?”
