I laugh under my breath, though my nerves still feel a little jangly from the whole ordeal. Our little late-night ghost hunt has officially been shut down.
By Porter, of course.
“Nobody is getting fired,” I say as I walk them to the front doors of the hotel. “Promise.”
I’ll grovel if I have to.
“Good night, ladies,” I say. “Sorry the whole operation was a bust.”
“Night, Miss Storm,” Calliope says with a mischievous grin. “We’ll get ’em next time.”
Mabree wiggles her fingers. “Sleep tight.”
I turn and hurry toward my office to grab my coat and purse. If I leave now, I can still make it to The Soused Cow.
Time to blow off some steam.
I duck into the dark hallway that leads to the management offices, already fishing my phone out of my pocket so I can text Cabe that I’m on my way.
The corridor is dim, the lights low for the night shift.
I reach my office door.
And suddenly, a hand shoots out of the darkness and grabs my bicep.
I yelp.
Before I can even breathe, another hand clamps over my mouth.
My heart nearly launches straight out of my chest.
“What the—” I twist violently, panic flooding me.
And then I look up.
Porter.
His broad frame looms over me, his hand still firmly covering my mouth as his darkened eyes pin mine in the dim hallway light.
My brain short-circuits.
“Mmff!”
He removes his hand slowly.
I gasp. “What the fuck?!”
Where the hell did he come from?
We just left him upstairs.
There is no way he could have beaten me down here.
None.
“You scared me!” I hiss.
He says nothing.
