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“Shhh. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help you. I know you don’t like these things. Don’t you want to go someplace quiet?”
“Humph!” I snort and rip at his shirt, pulling a big strip off the bottom of his shirt as we struggle. “I definitely don’t want to go with you, asshole! Let me go!”
I manage to get my fingers under his shirt and scrape my fingernails along his ribs.
“Ow! Dammit! Settle down, Azalea! I’m not going to hurt you.”
I fight to try and get a good look at him but all I can see is that he’s tall and well-built, dressed in dark jeans and a dark sweater. Hanging upside down is not the best way to see him clearly.
“Let me go!” I squeal, raking my nails along his ribs again. This time I must hit a sensitive spot and he sucks in a sharp breath.
At the same time, someone pushes the alley door open and steps out, gasping when they see the two of us locked in a struggle.
“Azalea! What the hell’s going on?” Josh growls. He and Keith run at the man and he grunts, dropping me and turning to run.
I hit the ground hard, my head snapping against the ground and then everything goes dark and all I hear is rushing wind and muffled voices calling to me.
CHAPTER2
Victor
“What the hell is going to happen next?” I growl, wiping at the coffee stain on my tie. It’s seven o’clock in the morning and I’ve already had a run-in with my own coffee and one of the new interns that immediately turned ash white and took off for the hills as soon as they saw who they spilled coffee all over.
Obviously, I terrified the idiot and I can’t say I’m sorry. It’s my thing. I know I’m a scary motherfucker and I like it. I don’t want to be work buddies or anything of the kind. I just want to come in and get my job done and go home to my quiet house in the middle of my quiet neighborhood. It’s perfect. Nobody bothers me, nobody knows me and nobody asks about me.
Heaven!
But I’m late and now I’m covered in coffee, which I’m lucky it was already lukewarm or I’d have burnt myself.
“Stupid barista can’t make a decent cup of coffee,” I growl under my breath. I just wanted some black coffee. I don’t need some froufrou frappe stuff. Just black and hotter than hell. And they couldn’t even manage that.
“Hey, buddy! Jefferson’s been looking for you! He’s got to talk to you about something new!” Henry hollers from his desk across the hall from me.
“Got it!” I growl and turn, stalking back to the elevator, stabbing at the number to the seventh floor where the bosses are.
Once it whisks me upstairs, I take a deep breath and run my hand down my tie. I hate ties but it’s part of the job.
I push the door to Jefferson’s office open and knock on it simultaneously.
“Come on in, buddy!” Jefferson calls and stands up from behind his desk, walking up to me and shaking my hand. “How was the last job? Did you get along alright with Jared?”
“Yeah, he was okay,” I grunt grudgingly. I didn’t like the job or the person I was protecting. He was an asshole. But sometimes you get a job with a client and they’re just not your favorite person. Nothing you can do about it but get everything taken care of and get the hell out of there.
“I know he’s a difficult one, but he’s a huge client and we needed the best for him.”
My lip quirks up in a sly smirk. “Dude, don’t go buttering me up. I don’t know what my next job is but it can’t be any worse than that.”
Jefferson clears his throat and his eyes dart away from me. “Ummm. I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, man! Don’t give me another asshole! I can’t do another one this soon!”
“Now, it’s not going to be that bad, Vic. And this one is a personal favor for my wife. Your client is my wife’s favorite artist.”
“Artist?” I curl my lip. “You must be kidding! Artists are worse than businessmen. At least they take things seriously and don’t try some damn new age mumbo jumbo to try and smooth things over with the universe.”
“She’s a young woman. Twenty eight years old. She’s got a stalker.”
“Can’t the police take care of this? Sounds like it’s right up their alley. Not mine,” I grumble under my breath.
