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Not to mention the fact that Nero is more unhinged than usual when it comes to Payton, and he might not react well to me manhandling her. Hell, he probably wouldn’t react well to me touching any part of her. Which begs the question, how exactly am I supposed to get her to go with me, a stranger, to a private room, after Nero already did something to upset her?
Still searching, my eyes finally catch the sparkle of her dress and I curse to myself when I see she’s already past the entrance to the party room, waiting for the fucking elevator.
If those doors close before I get there, she’s as good as gone.
But if I can get the two of us alone in the elevator… that might do it.
CHAPTER53
Payton
The tipof my thumb turns white as I press the button harder to call the elevator.
“Come on. Come on.” I urge the cab to hurry its climb.
It’s early to be leaving, so there’s no one else waiting with me, which I’m thankful for. Because if someone tried to engage me in small talk right now, I’d probably dissolve into sobs.
The need to look back forKingprickles the back of my neck. But it’s this elevator or nothing. There’s no way I can outrun that man, and no way I’m trying for the stairs. His stride has to be twice as long as mine, he’d catch me in no time. Alone.
I shift my weight, the motion dulling the throb in one foot, but increasing it in the other.
The chime announcing the elevator startles me so bad I let out a small scream.
Cool, we’ll add embarrassment to the list of emotions I’m already dealing with.
As soon as the doors are wide enough for me to squeeze through, I start to step inside, but nearly colliding with another body has me letting out another scream.
The girl facing me screams a little too, me scaring her over her scaring me.
“Jesus, Krissy.” The older man standing next to her is shaking his head.
The girl giggles and swats at his chest. “She startled me.”
The girl is beautiful, looks barely old enough to drink, and is wearing a dress that makes mine look matronly in comparison.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and we shuffle around, letting each other pass.
The interaction almost makes me forget I’m being pursued. But after I press the button for the ground floor, I look up and lock eyes with King.
The bottom of my stomach drops, and I look away just long enough to press the button for the lobby level. Then I shakily push thedoor closebutton.
When I glance back up, King is striding straight toward me.
I hit the button again. Over and over, I press it as fast as I can.
King is halfway to me, jaw tight, fists clenched.
The doors start to slide shut.
“Please, please, please,” I beg the doors, pressing the button.
King is four strides away.
Then three.
Two strides, his hand is reaching out.
And the doors close.
