“You got it.” He claps my shoulder. “Jimmy said drinks are on the house tonight too.”
“Thanks, man. I don’t drink while I’m working, but I’ll have a soda or something.”
Gus leaves me and I case the backstage area. There’s a door that opens frequently as workers file in for their shifts. Need to keep an eye on it in case the jackass is bold enough to try that door. I make a mental note, but then I see another one of the security guards sitting on a stool nearby, watching every person who enters. Okay, that’s good. I’ll make sure he stays there the entire time the club is open.
Another hour passes before I see Wraith pull up with Colson on the front exterior cameras. Colson slips out of the back seat, just like he would from a ride service. He flips his hair off his shoulders, pulling his coat tighter around him as he walks toward the front door.
I exhale in relief once he’s safely inside, then I make my way from the tiny security office to the dressing room area. As soon as I see him, my heart flutters in my chest. Fucking hell, he’s so beautiful.
His eyes meet mine and his face lights up. As much as his aloof stare used to do it for me, this is way, way better.
“Hi, lover.”
Nodding, I approach him. “All good out there?”
“All good. Here?”
“Quiet. Normal.”
I start to follow him, but he presses his hand to my chest, shaking his head. “Give the other performers some privacy.”
“Right. Sorry.” My brow creases. “I just want to be wherever you are.”
“I know, but remember where I sleep and wake up.”
“I will.”
He pats my cheek in the same way that felt so dismissive before, but now I know he wasn’t immune to me. He was resisting.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Je t’aime aussi, mon tueur.”
He turns and slips behind the curtains into the dressing area, leaving me desperate for more of him. I shake my shoulders out and blow out a breath. I need to keep my head in the game.
I settle in the security office again, watching him on the cameras as he moves elegantly through the club, more and more customers showing up as time passes.
My phone buzzes.
Wraith: Someone’s been here.
My jaw tightens.
Me: What’s going on?
Wraith: Found a note on the door.
He sends a picture of it. I zoom in to read the scratchy handwriting.
You have to come back at some point, you fucking faggot. When you do, I’ll be waiting. You can’t hide from me forever.
My blood turns cold. Faggot? Really? I’m going to enjoy ripping this fucker apart.
Wraith: This too.
Another picture comes in, of a stuffed hedgehog, slashed, with red paint on it. It’s gotta be Bradley. There’s no fucking way I’m letting Colson spend a single minute in that apartment by himself.
Wraith: I’ve been inside and it’s all good. Secure.
