“Okay.” I keep my arms in the air, knowing I would rather be here than at the table.
“You good by yourself?” I don’t even answer. I just roll my eyes and turn around.
Masher is standingin front of me looking like he’s about ready to piss himself. “What did you just say?” I ask, still clutching my phone, even though I hung up on him when I was in the club. It’s too fucking loud in there, there’s no way I heard what I thought I did.
“Felony, she’s in the club.” He needlessly looks behind me to show exactly what club he means. Only Winger knows about my true obsession with her, but I made it clear from the beginning she was off limits to everyone.
“Would you care to explain how the fuck that happened?” I’m spitting mad. Of all the fucking times for her to show up, she does it now? I want to wring her fucking neck.
“I didn’t know it was her, her friend said they were on the list,” Masher answers quickly. We’re standing in the back hall near the exit door. Nobody is around because nobody leaves early, so I’m not worried about being overheard.
“When?” I demand. What I really want to do is smash his face against the wall, but finding her is more important.
“I called you as soon as she went in. Five minutes or less. Do you want me to go find her?” he offers.
I grab the front of his shirt and haul him close to my face. “You’re going to forget you even fucking saw her.” He blinks several times, not uttering a word. I could slice his throat right now and leave him to bleed out in the hall, but someone would be bound to find him. I shove him away, already plotting his death in my head. I stomp down the corridor.
“Jeans,” Masher shouts behind me. “She’s in jeans.”
Not that I really need help finding her, but that will be useful. Most of the women come in baring as much as possible. Not her though, and that settles me.
I stalk through the club. People watch me, though barely any of them know me for who I am. My eyes dip past the bar, scanning the booths and tables. There’s a girl at the one I vacated talking to Jayson. I look away from him. He disgusts me almost as much as Masher, but for entirely different reasons. He’s a suck ass trying to get in my good graces.
I’m half tempted to tell the DJ to shut the music down and turn on the house lights, but I don’t. I scan every inch of the club, stopping on anyone that could resemble her. I don’t allow myself to think about what could be going on in the VIP lounge if that’s where she is, though Masher did say she was on the list. I should have asked him who put her on there.
Just as I’m about to head upstairs, I look over at the dance floor. It’s the last place I expect to find her, but there she is. The crowd splits just in time for me to see her lift her face up to the ceiling, showing off that long neck I want to leave bruises on.
There’s a man angling his way toward her, his eyes on my prize. She stands out like a dove in a room full of crows, pulling everything dark toward her light. The guy is vaguely familiar. I think he came in with Jayson.
Without thinking, I shove into the crowd, pushing people out of my way. If he manages to touch her, he will be signing his death warrant. Like she can sense someone is coming for her, she scans the crowd, her movements slowing until she stands motionless in the middle of the dance floor.
She notices the other man and takes a step backwards, trying to get out of his path. Her expression is cool and unaffected, but her eyes tell a different story. She feels trapped, and not just at this club.
Most of the people around me move away from me, offering room that isn’t afforded anywhere else on the dance floor. It gives her a little escape route. I stop, my heart pounding as I watch. Will she let him touch her? Will she smile at him? I tighten my fists at the thought. Someone will die tonight for sure if she does.
Chapter 7
One of the goons from the table is headed my way. I can feel his gaze on me, and I hate it. He looks at me just like the guys from the club. Cooler air caresses my overheated skin, and I take a step back at the welcome room that’s opened up on the floor, but it gives the man a clear path right to me.
“Hey, remember me? I’m Mike. Your friend sent me to check on you.” He probably doesn’t even know Gwen’s name.
“I’m good,” I shout, so he doesn’t feel the need to get any closer. He glances over my head, and his expression swiftly shifts. He turns pale, so I look behind me. There’s a man standing there. I can’t be sure, but I think it’s the same chiseled jaw and black T-shirt guy who was at the table earlier. I didn’t even feel his approach or realize how close he is to me. He’s staring Mike down. I take a swift step away from him but make sure it doesn’t bring me any closer to Mike. It’s clear these two must have some beef, and I want no part in that. I angle myself away from them, worming my way through the surprisingly packed crowd—there was so much room around me only moments ago.
I end up coming out near the bar instead of the table, so I head over and buy a water, making sure to tip the bartender for their fast service. I’m still guzzling it down as I make my way over to Gwen. She’s tucked into Jay’s side, looking completely content. I’m about to burst her bubble though, and I think she can tell when she sees my face, because her smile slips.
“Everything okay?” It’s not as loud over here as it was on the dance floor, but she still has to raise her voice.
“Just tired. I have to get up early,” I remind her, then turn as Mike returns. He’s stiff and doesn’t even look in my direction, which I call a win. I wonder what happened to the other guy?
My phone starts going off in my back pocket. I twist my cap back onto my water and pull it out, dread filling my stomach. No one calls me this late. Winger’s name flashes across the screen. My thumb hovers over the green icon, but I just let it keep ringing.
“You need to get that,” a voice says near my ear, and I jump.
“No,” I answer automatically, even though his words didn’t sound like a question.
He blinks at me, his face not giving away any emotion at all. I’m the first to look away from him, but only because I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. He was actually looking at me, right into my eyes, and even though his face isn’t showing any hint of feeling, his gaze is intense. I was right about the carved jaw, which flows up into a set of perfectly sculpted cheekbones. He’s all edges and hard lines, but it makes him look like a freaking model.
I focus back on Gwen, but she’s glancing between me and the guy, analyzing something. An awkward silence falls over the table. I want to ask Gwen if we can go, but I can tell she’s not ready. I really don’t want to sit down, and I’m kind of over the dancing thing too.
