I stood when he did, ignoring Abernathy’s vigorous complaints. “Well, I’ll walk you up then.” I said it as brightly as I could muster, and it seemed to rally him. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and stood too. With purposeful strides, he returned the vape to the drawer beside the bed, taking out a plastic bottle and tipping two white capsules into his hand.
“Pills as well as pot?” I asked. He flashed me a tiny lopsided smile.
“Chewing gum,” he explained, popping them into his mouth. “You have a hot horse take on that as well?” He finally met my eyes for more than a blink, and I found myself looking away instead. There was anintensity in that gaze that felt like he was peeling layers off me. Layers that I kept like armour.
“I’ll allow it,” I teased as he came to stand beside me. He was a few inches taller than me.A nice height for kissing, I thought, my fingers reaching unbidden for my lips as I watched his mouth move as he chewed.
“Thank you,” he murmured, gesturing for the door. I started walking—it was better than pressing my mouth to his to taste the mint on his tongue and see where the night took us.
Something told me that Henry Baxter was not the kind to randomly kiss a woman who snuck into his bedroom.
But when his palm rested on the small of my back as he guided me up the stairs to the main deck, and my body reacted like it was shot through with an electric current, I decided that maybe I wouldn’t have survived kissing him.
I ducked through the post-midnight crowds milling at Darling Harbour, sweat sticking my hair to my neck. And not just because the March night was disgustingly hot.
After Henry escorted me up onto the deck, he’d immediately been whisked away into the crowd by the grouchy giant who had threatened to toss me overboard earlier. The murderous glare he’d thrown at me was a silent warning to stay away from his ‘employer’.
Well, he could go get fucked …
Not that I expected Henry Baxter—rich, sexy nerd living on a super yacht—to have any real interest in me beyond polite curiosity at finding me in his space. I probably wouldn’t see him again, unless we hit the pool at the same time.
Then again, I should probably avoid places where I was easily recognised and people might start asking why I was still in Australia.
The back of my neck prickled, and I glanced behind me. Why did I feel like I was being watched? Was it possible that I was already on the radar with the Department of Home Affairs? Was it possible thattheyhad people trailing me? Or was paranoia starting to kick in?
I reached a crossing, heading back into the city and jabbed at thepedestrian button. The beginnings of fear swirled in my stomach, and I wiped my sweaty palms on my tiny dress as a group of revellers wandered up from the direction I’d come, waiting for the signal to turn green. A loud, masculine guffaw made me flinch.
I didn’t want to be this way. I didn’t want to live in fear that I’d be found and removed from this place where I’d finally made a proper home for myself. From this country that felt far enough away from Romania that it felt safe.
I scanned the group, making sure I took note of faces. Not that it would help. If it were the police following me, they could arrest me. If it wasn’t the police … if it was someone who wanted to harm me, and I tried to get help from the police … they would arrest me.
I’d never felt more alone in my life. And that was saying something, given my upbringing.
The light flashed from red to green, the frantic beeping of the crossing stuttering in my chest. I practically threw myself onto the road, striding as fast as was humanly possible in the heels I’d paired with this dress. Tugging self-consciously at the hem—my panties were still in Henry’s bedroom—I reached the other side of the road ahead of the other pedestrians.
I headed straight, rather than turning right onto Sussex Street like most of the group. Hopefully whoever was giving me the creepy feeling would veer off that way too.
And then I spotted them. ‘Gaz’ and his three pals. And they were walking straight up King Street. Whether or not they were deliberately following me, I did not want a run-in with them.
“Pizda,” I muttered shakily and put my head down, walking purposefully towards the next cross street. Thankfully, the city was an uphill walk here, and none of them were in great physical condition, they were also messily drunk, so they lagged behind.
I could have cried when I saw the glowing red, white and green of the Seven Eleven store up ahead. Dashing inside, I made a beeline for the counter, where a very uninterested checkout guy gave me a bored once-over.
“Cigarettes?” he asked in a monotone.
“I … uh …” There was no way I was handing over my precious money just to keep him talking. I peered out the window and bit back a whimper of relief when the four of them waddled past, not even glancing inside.
“Hurry up!”
My gaze darted back to the asshole behind the counter, my relief turning me snarky. “Oh! I’m sorry, was I keeping you from yourenormousline of customers?” I looked pointedly behind me at the empty shop.
“Buy something or fuck off,” he rasped. “This isn’t a women’s refuge.”
“Nenorocitule,” I hissed under my breath. I wasn’t quite ready to brave it outside in case they were smarter than I had assumed and were lurking just past the shop, waiting to ambush me as soon as I came out. So, with a sigh, I gave in, snatching up a bottle of gum and tossing it on the counter.
“Just that.”
I checked both ways before I exited the store. The sidewalk was well-lit, and there were no alleys the men could have ducked into. Still, I turned back the way I’d come, looping back around to Sussex Street and taking the long way back to Town Hall Station and the train that would return me to the little apartment I shared with Kat in Marrickville.
