I move quickly, stretching up to tilt the stupid ceramic frog sign on the wall next to the door, revealing the keys behind it.
Safest hiding spot? Definitely not. But it’s easier for the girls to come and go quietly without leaving a trace.
I unlock the door fast, and instead of handing him one of the two keys like a normal person, I do somethingvery stupid: I reach for his jeans pocket and shove the key inside.
His jeans pocket.
His very tight jeans pocket.
When I pull my fingers back, I’m hit with his clenched jaw and sharp gaze.
Shit.
I mouth a silentsorrywith my hands clasped together and quickly slip inside the old building, heading toward the stairs that lead to the dressing rooms, shoving the other key into my pocket.
I pause for half a second to check he’s following, then keep going down—
Until I hear voices.
Men voices.
Shit.
I rush back up toward Malec, and he—like he expected this to happen—raises an eyebrow.
“That wasn’t part of your plan inside?” His voice is a whisper echoed around us.
I freeze and shake my head. Theyneversend guards back here.
He exhales, rolls his neck from side to side like he’s getting ready for a workout.
“Leave it to me.”
He starts down the stairs.
“Wait!” I grab his arm instinctively.
He jerks back like my touch burned him—just like he did in the parking lot earlier.
Did I do something wrong?
Before he can go further, I lean in and whisper right into his ear, “You can’t kill them. They’ll know we were here.”
“As I said—leave it to me. Stay here.”
My heart pounds louder with every step he takes down. I heard multiple voices—how the hell is he going to handle it alone? I think I need to go back and call Pedro.
My thought spiral as I bury my face in my hands, praying to anyone who could hear me right now to make tonight’s plan work. Again.
His footsteps sound finally stop. And the next thing I hear is curses in Russian—just for a second—before I hear… choking sounds?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Is he okay?
No, ishe killing them?
Fuck, this will lead my father right here. To me.
