Page 99 of His Wicked Revenge

A small gasp fills the narrow space, and I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s okay,” she reassures me. The dull lighting shines on her features when she tilts her face in my direction. It’s our waitress.

In the club lighting, I could tell that she was pretty, and even now, in this dark hallway, I can tell pretty isn’t the word I would use. She is gorgeous.

As she smiles sweetly up at me, I can’t help but ask, “Did my friend send you to find me?”

I watch her brows dip, and a smirk tilts her lips. “He did not. I was actually just on my way to the back room.” She points behind me to a door at the end of the hall. “I’m off, so I’d like to get all my stuff from my locker.”

“Ah, I see.” I move my eyes away from the door. “I just figured… my friend has been very persistent about being my wingman.”

“You don’t seem like the type of guy who needs a wingman.” Her voice is flirtatious. “I’m Naya, by the way.”

“Leo,” I introduce myself and then allow my eyes to scan her features.

Her skin looks like it is made of rich chocolate. It is so smooth and delicate that I’d be afraid she’d melt if I touched her.

Deep brown eyes stare back at me, filled with exhaustion, but there is a playfulness that is trying to fight past the tiredness of working so late.

With her beauty, any man would be stupid to turn her down. Before I can respond, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see a text from Myles.

Where did you disappear to man? We are heading out.

My eyes lift from my phone to the woman before me and then over her shoulder.

At the end of the hall where the club is, Myles comes into view, staring down at his phone. It’s almost like he senses me because he raises his head and turns it toward me.

It’s dark, but I don’t miss the grin on his face. He begins typing on his phone, and sure enough, mine vibrates.

You stay.

I’ll be out in a second.

He sends an okay and walks out of my sight. “I should get going.”

“No drinks then?” She pouts.

“If I’m being honest, I think I’ve had one too many tonight.”

“That’s fair,” she says. “Let me give you my number; that way, you can text me before you’ve had too much to drink.”

Handing over my phone, Naya punches her number onto the screen and saves the contact. Once the phone is back in my possession, she slips around me and heads into the back room.

The sad thing is, I probably won’t text her. No matter if I want to, Veronica is always there, sitting in the back of my mind.

Sighing, I make my way to the front door just in time to see Myles climbing into the back of an Uber. Sitting beside him in the backseat, the driver leaves the curb and drives to Myles's house. The ride is silent, Myles too tired to talk, and for that, I am thankful.

He gets out once the driver stops in front of his home, giving me a salute before shutting the door, and I watch as he stumbles over himself as he makes his way inside.

Since Myles only ordered the car to drop him off at his house, I told the driver my address and informed him I’d pay him cash if he took me home, too. He agreed.

Pulling up to my apartment, the scene is one I wasn’t expecting to see.

Police cars are everywhere.

Flashing lights cast a red and blue glow over the entire building.

I blindly toss the driver some money and hurry out of the car. My heart is beating so fast that it’s the only thing I hear.