Page 2 of Hide, Little Thief

Well, shit.

I swallow down my disappointment and clean up his now empty table. There’s still a prickling in my neck, and the feeling of being watched, but it’s different now. The allure of danger is gone, just like he is.

Shaking my head at myself, I ignore the sensation and head back to the counter.

A new guy sits on one of the stools, giving me the once-over and a handsome grin. His stare follows me too as I pour his beer, talk to other customers, and take orders. He looks about my age, with brown hair and intense green eyes. There’s a flutter in my stomach whenever our eyes meet.

But when I turn around again, he’s disappeared. Nowhere to be found.

Damn it. Seems to be my unlucky night.

The next time I look at the clock, it’s well after midnight. Closing time. Most of the guests are leaving, and it seems like I’m going home alone tonight.

Unless . . .

There's a pair of glorious high heels just waiting for me in my locker. I could put them on and get the Tube to a club. This plan doesn’t guarantee me a steamy night with a stranger, but at least it keeps my current disappointment in check.

Since my encounter with Reaper a couple of months ago, I’ve taken no one home with me, because I can’t get that man out of my head. And I hate him for it. Hate him for fucking me so thoroughly that no one can compare. Not even my own imagination. Every time I pleasure myself, his voice infiltrates my mind until it’s his dark and deadly eyes looking down on me, and his cock pumping into me instead of my vibrator.

It’s frustrating as hell. But it gets me off like nothing else.

So it’s probably a good thing the only two men I was interested in tonight left instead of hitting on me.

“I need to go,” John says, putting on his jacket. “You going to close up?”

“Sure thing,” I say, wiping over the countertop one last time.

The pub is empty. I’m the last one here. Finishing my shift and closing up won’t be a problem at all.

“Perfect.” John grabs his keys and waves at me from the doorway. “Good night, Riven.”

“Night, boss.”

After cleaning up and putting everything back where it belongs, I take off my work boots and put on my high heels, then I turn off all the lights and close up the pub. The wind makes me shiver, but at least it’s not raining anymore.

It’s almost 2 a.m. already, and the alley is eerily quiet. Normally, the darkness is my friend, since I need it for my actual job, but tonight, all alone in this abandoned alley, an icy shiver runs down my spine.

No fear though. A warning.

Only, when I look around, there’s no sign of immediate danger.

The streetlamp close to me flickers from time to time as if I’m in a horror movie. I swear, if it blinks out all of a sudden, I’ll scream.

I snatch my keys from my purse and hurry down the alley, cursing myself for not bringing my car and having to walk to the Tube instead. Under normal circumstances, it’d be no problem, since I’m used to disappearing into the shadows if needed. But I’ve never felt so intensely watched as tonight. A feeling that hasn’t subsided even though I’m alone now.

This can’t be just my imagination, right?

I pissed off the Argentinian Mafia, sure, but that was months ago. Why send somebody to kill me now? That makes no sense.

My last job was ten days ago, and I’ve heard nothing suspicious since. The cops are completely in the dark. They’d never suspect a woman, let alone a bartender in her twenties, as the thief. I’m in no imminent danger.

At least, that’s what I hope as I walk through the barely lit alley.

A sudden noise makes me stop in my tracks. Fear courses through my body, and my stomach contracts.

What was that?

I don’t turn around, but I listen to every sound around me. Did I imagine it? Was it just an animal—a stray cat or a dog running around? A homeless person making their bed for the night?