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I left.
Taking the stairs three at a time, I needed to expel some of the energy that had built inside me, and the elevator car felt too small and confined. Perhaps I’d try to get Cara to come to me again when I got back.
Tate was waiting where I left him and raised his eyebrows in silent question as we began the short walk back to Urban.
“She claims not to know anything about it,” I said.
“Of course, she fucking does.”
Humming my acknowledgment, I watched Tate closely for reaction as I said, “She might not be lying. She seemed to genuinely not know why I was there.”
Tate scoffed. “Demons are good at lying.”
He was right, so I didn’t argue, and while his face told me everything I needed to know about just how much he disagreed with my actions, he said nothing. I felt restless, and my shoulders and fingers twitched as we neared the club. I had denied myself something by not injuring or killing Ray, if for nothing else than all the trouble she caused me last year, and now the energy was trapped within my body.
I needed release.
I needed Cara to come to me.
CARA
The club was winding down for the night by the time they got back. Emrick had stormed out of the building, the rage almost visibly flowing from him, and it felt as though it was an omen that someone was going to die tonight. While I didn’t want anyone to die—unnecessarily at least—I found myself hoping Emrick achieved whatever he set out to do, partly because I didn’t want him angry when he got back, and also because, for some reason, I wanted him to be happy. Emrick hardly struck me as the sort of man who would deal well with not getting what he wanted.
Wiping down the bar near the deserted dance floor, I was getting ready for closing and was one of the few still working. Being the only one behind the bar hadn’t bothered me until I felt his presence.
What did he want with me?
I could only guess.
“I’m sorry I scared you the other day.”
My eyes flicked up at his face as Emrick approached, leaning his forearms on the bar, and I guess trying to look sincere behind the sunglasses, but he was twitching, his fingers clenching and releasing. I was about to begin wondering again why he always wore sunglasses when he took them off. He kept his head tilted down toward the bar as he gracefully slid them off his face and folded them up, placing them delicately in his pocket. My hand stayed frozen in place on the bar where I had been cleaning it, my breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to look at me.
I’m not even sure why I was holding my breath. Perhaps it was the feeling I was about to get a glimpse of the man behind the mask, and coupled with the query as towhyhe’d show me whatever he was hiding, I was wondering what I’d see.
I wasn’t prepared for the darkness.
His irises were so dark, they were almost black. I’ve never seen anything like it, and it was as hypnotizing as it was terrifying. I understood why he wore the glasses—he looked like a man possessed. Although the effect was both striking and chilling, he could use it to his advantage.
Emrick held my eye contact for as long as I dared to look at him before I cleared my throat and continued cleaning. This had been a good week, and I had made a decent amount in tips, adding it to the stash in my apartment. Opting to keep the cash in a shoe box under my bed rather than put it in a bank, it would make it easier to simply leave when I wanted to.
Pressing my lips together, I nodded but didn’t trust myself to speak. He screamed danger, but when I cast him a nervous glance every few seconds, it was hard not to notice how strikingly handsome he was. Those eyes coupled with his dark hair—as usual pulled into a low ponytail—and the tattoos that snaked their way around his arms and shoulders, ending at his hands and, from what I could see, covering his chest too, he was goddam gorgeous.
Emrick wasn’t the sort of man you wanted to be attracted to, and my constant awareness of what he was capable of kept me on edge.
He was drumming his fingers on the bar. He often seemed to be filled with energy, always moving his fingers or hands. He was either still as a statue or fidgeting and shifting, there was no in-between. Despite everything, he was my boss, and I didn’t want to stop working and stand there staring at him, so I continued cleaning. As I neared him with the cleaning cloth, no longer able to keep up the pretense that only the other end of the bar needed a wipe down, he snatched at my wrist. He was so incredibly fast, I dropped the rag in surprise before immediately yanking away from him on instinct.
“Don’t pull away. Please.”
Please.
It was a command, not a plea.
His fingers gripped and flexed on my wrist, and I kept myself angled away from him, casting my gaze around for someone, anyone who could break his attention from me.
What did he want with me?
The voices and warnings of Maddie and the other girls rang in my ears, but there was something so intoxicating about his eyes. His expression darkened when I stopped pulling away from him, but I didn’t move any nearer either.
