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“Good. Text me when you get home, though, okay? I also sent you up my latest dish, so I expect feedback sooner rather than later.”
“I will. You know I will.” I rolled my eyes but loved that he cared for me in his own jacked-up way. Dale was the head chef at Indulge and was known worldwide for his wagyu steak, always seared to perfection. A few years ago, he discovered my refined palate and awarded me the pleasure of taste testing the many new dishes he developed in his kitchen. Too bad his dating skills didn’t match his culinary skills.
I needed everything to be just right; my alibi had to be flawless.
When I got to the perfect spot, I rubbed my still-sticky hands on the underside of my skirt then pulled my sketch pad out and nibbled on the end of a pencil as I forced myself to let my ideas flow for how I would set the lighting in this place. Dale would ask to see what I’d done. I loved that he was supportive, but tonight I really wished I could just go home. Straight lines were nearly impossible to do with shaky hands, so I did more shading.
I forced my head to clear. I wanted it to be seductive with a smidge of questionable seediness, so it needed a dark undertone. I wanted a feeling of “just by being here, you’re committing a sin.” I shivered at the idea. It was a simple word for me to play off.
Sinful.
I jumped when a police siren bounced off the walls and went straight through my nerves. I moved to the ledge and peered over to see it wasn’t heading in the direction I’d just come from.
“Come on, Kenna, you need something to prove you were here.” I talked my way through my panic, knowing my phone was tracking my every move.
I pressed pencil to paper and began to sketch out the lines of the room. The lights from the nearby hotels lit the room perfectly for the task. They cast just enough light for me to see the page and the room. I tucked the pencil away in a makeshift bun to keep my hair back from my face and fished around for my colored pencils. I found a deep orange and lined the bottom of the windows with a warm under glow. I moved to a black and made marks on the wall to show where the leather would connect. The walls would be made to look like leather headboards, and photos would dangle from chains to add a BDSM illusion without it being too obvious. Cast iron rods would display goblets that would hold real fire encased in glass bowls. I could see it all.
Between the jacked-up adrenaline and my drawing, I found myself getting turned on at how sexy the room would be. Shit, if Minnie didn’t use this idea, I might use it for myself.
A strange feeling passed through me suddenly. I wasn’t alone. I covered my mouth with my hand, but the moment I smelled the blood, vomit crept up and threatened to show itself. Focus! I pivoted on my heel to scan the room. The plastic fluttered in the breeze and made a soft sound, but that was all. I squinted to look into the dark areas, but I couldn’t see anything. I shook it off after a moment and went back to my drawing, but my hands shook too much. A moment later, movement caught my eye. Bobby?
“Bobby?” I called. Nothing. “It’s Kenna. I won’t be much longer,” I reassured him in case he didn’t hear me the first time. I slid my book into my bag and tossed the pencils in the flap and went to find him.
I jumped as something fell, and then I saw him. He was dressed in a zip-up jacket, and it was pulled up over his mouth. It took my brain half a second to process who it was.
No.
My blood went cold, and my muscles locked in place as a feeling of dread went through me.
Run.
I backed up a few steps, then darted toward the plastic sheet that would be kitchen doors someday. As my hands tore at the plastic, I felt him and knew he was close.
I looked for something to use as a weapon. I wished to hell the construction workers had left a hammer or nail gun laying around.
My heart was in my throat; it beat so fast I could barely breathe.
“Come here, you bitch!” he screamed, and I looked around for something, anything to use, but there was nothing. His hand swiped at my arm, and my bag caught in his hold. I released my grip on it as I let go an ear-piercing scream. He threw my purse aside with another curse and lunged for me. I screamed again as loudly as I could.
“No!” I planted my hands against a workbench and drilled my heel into his stomach. He doubled over, and I saw my keys on the floor. I scrambled for them, and once I felt the cold metal in my hands, I bolted for the stairs. My heels clicked loudly on the marble floor. “Bobby!” I called, hoping he was nearby. Normally, he wouldn’t be far when I was on site, but of course this time he didn’t know I was here. “Bobby, please help me!”
I came to a halt as the man blocked my path. What little light there was soon faded as I dodged him and ran to my left where the service elevators would be. A huge, dark hole greeted me, and I realized my mistake. The open walls and darkness below allowed the wind to swipe at my face and reminded me I was still two floors above ground level.
“Shit.” I heaved to breathe as a hand covered my mouth and another wrapped around my stomach. I cried out again and drove my heel into his sneakered foot. He jerked backward and let go of me but only for a brief second. As quickly as I was released, I was whirled around and pushed hard against an exposed beam.
“There’s nowhere to run, baby girl.” He pulled out a gun and ran his hand down my bare thigh. I batted it away as my chest heaved in despair. He pointed the gun at my face, and I noticed the small edging of a tattoo on his chest when his shirt moved. “You think you’re so smart? That you’re some badass!” he screamed in my face. “You’re nothing but a daddy’s girl who had a stroke of luck!”
“I’m sorry.” I could barely get the words out, I was so scared. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” His hand moved up and a brand-new dose of fear coursed through me.
“What do you want?” I managed to choke out.
“Just a taste, or…” He came closer, and I somehow lifted my chin. “I like your fight.”
“Screw you!” I hissed, and he backhanded me across the cheek.
Ouch. I blinked back the fuzzy spots as I absorbed the pain. When our eyes met again, I knew this could be the moment all women, particularly in Vegas, feared.
The fact I came here to give myself a damn alibi almost brought out a hysterical laugh, but it sounded more like a hiccup when it escaped my lips. Why hadn’t I just gone home?
