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“It is,” I reply distractedly. I don’t know why, but an unsettling feeling comes over me. I look over my shoulder at the bodyguard who’s been casually flicking through a paper with an untouched meal in front of him since I sat down.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.
“I’m quite busy right now. And I’m waiting for someone,” I say as politely as possible.
“Dawson?” he asks.
I look at him now, really look at him. “You know Dawson?”
He nods his head enthusiastically. “Yeah. We go way back.” It’s then that I notice the tremor that ripples through him and the slight slur of his words. I flick another glance to my bodyguard but realize this man has had his back to him the whole time.
“Uh-uh,” he says, shaking his finger. “I wouldn’t cause a scene.” He pulls back his jacket slightly. The motherfucker has a gun. “I’m not opposed to shooting that wailing child over there before I shoot you if you make any sudden movements.”
My screen lights up, and I realize Dawson is calling. It’s the fifth time he’s called. I’d been so enthralled in my research I hadn’t even noticed. “What do you want?” I ask.
He seems taken aback by that question. “What do I want?” He considers as the bartender offers him the drink he ordered earlier. His finger circles the rim thoughtfully. “What I want, I can’t have.” There’s no emotion in his tone. “I’ve lied, cheated, killed, and fucked, all under the pretense of being charming. And it got me nowhere. And yet, Dawson gets everything he wants. Money. Power. Reputation. A pretty girl.”
My back is straight, and if anyone were looking, they might think of this as a business transaction. I’ve dealt with half-assed power plays before, but not someone sitting beside me with a gun, threateningnot only me but others around me. The man is clearly not in his right mind.
“And what do you want from me?” I ask.
He chuckles. It has a velvety tone, a honed craft for pleasure. Was he an escort? Not that it matters, I have to get him away from these people.
“Your boyfriend can’t buy his way out of this one,” he sneers.
I realize then that he is so focused on Dawson that he has no idea who I am. He tracked me here, sure. But no one smart enough would come after me so boldly if they know who my father is. Unless, of course, they’re already a dead man walking.
I slowly pick up my glass and take a sip.
He watches the movement before he throws back his own drink. “You’re going to walk toward the bathroom, but instead, you’re going to cut through the kitchen and out the back.”
I let out a breath. “Let me guess, an alleyway?” I say tiredly.
It’s always a fucking alleyway.
“I don’t think you understand the severity of this situation,” he snaps under his breath, and I try my best not to be affected by it. I quickly glance around at the people in the room. How many could he shoot before my bodyguard stands and shoots him? Three, maybe four? If he shoots the bodyguard first, it might be a free-for-all.
“I understand,” I say and carefully press against the bar counter. “Out the back. I’m going now.”
He pockets my phone as I leave. When I turn the corner for the bathroom, I sense he’s only a few steps behind me. And more than likely, my bodyguard is following him. At least this will be taken elsewhere and take away the danger for the other patrons in the bar. My body shakes as I walk through the kitchen like I own the place. It’s not necessarily fear but a buzz, perhaps of adrenaline. Uncertainty. The kitchen staff offer peculiar looks but say nothing.
The cold air hits me as I step into the alley with the psycho right on my heels.
CHAPTER 55
Dawson
She finally picks up her phone as I frantically burst into the restaurant. Plates flying into the air as I run into a waiter.
“Honey?” I say into the phone.
For the first time in my life, I experience very real, living, livid panic.
“Not quite,” a man’s voice replies on the other end.Bang!The gunshot rings through the phone and from the back of the restaurant.
My entire body runs cold as my legs take me through the kitchen, a blur of screams and staff as I burst through the back door.
She can’t be.
