“She’ll have a mojito with me,” a female voice chirps behind us and I spin to see a beautiful woman three steps away.
Her long, brown hair is thrown over one shoulder, lips stained deep red, body hugged by an elegant, short black dress.
“That’s Layla,” Carter tells me.
“Oh, hey, I—” I don’t finish because she struts across, pulling me into a tight hug.
“I’ve been dying to meet you,” she says, beaming at me. “Come on, we’re all dancing downstairs.”
“Thank you, but—”
“Not tonight,” Carter cuts in, protectively wrapping his arm around my waist. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than this close to him. “She’s all yours next time.”
“Oh don’t be such a buzzkill. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Don’t force it, Star,” Dante commands. It’s an order, but softer than I’d expect from a man of his reputation. I guess he doesn’t boss his wife around like he would other people.“Hailey’s staying here with the extra security, and you could use a break. You’ve been dancing for forty minutes.”
She pinches her lips, little torches burning in her eyes before she blinks them away. “Fine.”
As soon as she sits down, Carter ushers me along to sit between him and Rookie. Broadway, Koby, and Ryder take the opposite couch just as a waitress stops by. Her skimpy outfit leaves little to the imagination. It’s just a white bra and a matching microskirt so short her thong shows when she moves.
“Get us a round of the usual, and...” Dante spares me a glance, raising an eyebrow.
“I’ll try the mojito, thank you.”
“You heard her. A round of lemonades, too.”
The waitress nods, scribbling the order on a notepad as she scurries away toward a long bar.
She’s back five minutes later, with another waitress, both carrying trays full of drinks. They set the glasses by their respective owners, leaving another six in the middle.
“Ten minutes,” Dante announces. Draping one arm over Layla’s shoulder, he pulls her closer to kiss her temple. “Don’t try dragging Hailey downstairs while we’re gone.”
I immediately turn to Carter, my insides tying into knots. “Gone?” I mouth. “You’re leaving?”
“We’ll be in the office at the back. Dante needs a rundown of how things will play out tomorrow before he approves it. Koby’s staying with you.”
The cold dread filling my stomach is irrational at best, but I can’t do anything about it. Since rescuing me from Blaze’s mansion, Carter’s been around all the time. Even when he wasn’t in the same room, I felt safe because of the security systems, but here... we’re in a club at the heart of Chicago. Despite the precautions Carter’s had put in place, I dread being without him. I don’t feel safe when he’s not around.
I grab the mojito, dousing the rising panic. I’m sick and tired of feeling like prey, like someone might jump out of the shadows and put a gun to my head or whisk me back to Blaze’s mansion. I doubt I’d avoid being raped this time. He wouldn’t stop his men throwing me under the rug... not after Carter murdered half of them. If he gets his hands on me again, I’ll pay.
I scan the huge club, checking how many bodyguards are around and whether there are any cameras. Quite a few blink high up the walls. That’s reassuring. At least four big, statue-like men surround the VIP area, and two more stand by the metal staircase leading downstairs. Six. There’s another six at the table plus Koby and however many bouncers are downstairs.
That’s a lot of men. More than got me out of Blaze’s mansion, but I’d rather be at the safe house than here.
Carter catches my chin, turning my head his way. “You’re safe,” he insists. “There aren’t many men stupid enough to raid Dante’s club. Rhett knows he wouldn’t get out alive. We’ve doubled the security in here, and there are twelve men outside. Koby’s staying, and so are they.” He nods toward the men he didn’t bother introducing. “Layla’s here, Hailey. Dante wouldn’t leave her if he thought the security could fail.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. I get what he’s implying—if someone did raid this place, it would put Layla in danger too, even if no one’s directly after her, but the truth is I’m the one Rhett’s enemies want, not Layla. I bet no one would dare touch Dante Carrow’s wife. She’s safe even without a bodyguard.
“Hailey,” Carter tuts, regaining my attention. “You might not trust me with your heart, but I expect you to trust me with your safety.
“I do, but—”
“There’s nobut. I wouldn’t leave you hereif I wasn’t certain you’d be safe for half an hour without me.” He brings my face closer. Close enough that his lips touch the tip of my nose,sending pleasant shivers down my spine. “I lost you once, pretty girl. Never again.”
He lets go and I clutch the half-empty mojito glass with both hands, doing my best to stop fretting. I’m overreacting. I know I am, but the girl who watched in that ballroom as the others got beaten and raped can’t shake the fear. I’m blowing this out of proportion, scared to end up with a psychopath less altruistic than Blaze.
“What’s the problem?” Dante asks Carter.
