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“You sure youdon’t need a lift back?” I ask as we stumble out of the bar, laughing, at thirty minutes past midnight, happily wasted and ready to crash.
“Nah.” Callie waves me off. “I’ll take the metro.”
“This late at night?”
“It’s Saturday, Vivian. The city’s just waking up.”
I sigh and cross my arms. “Promise you’ll get home safe?”
“Only if you will, too.”
“Deal.” I pull her into a hug as we say our goodbyes, promising to text her tomorrow, and watch to make sure she’s okay as she falls in with the crowd coming back from the waterfront. Sagging against the side of the building, I fumble in my bag for my phone. One of my dad’s drivers can bring me back to Lucas’s apartment, and then I can—
“Well, look who’s out here on the prowl?” a voice slurs, and I jump when the man from the bar appears next to me. “The little married bitch thought she was too good for me, is that it?”
He lurches closer, and I press back against the building. “What are you doing?” I demand through the haze.
“Just having a bit of fun,” the man slurs, moving to stand in front of me before I can get out of the way. “You want a bit of fun too, don’t you?” One hand grabs my bicep, and with his other he grabs at the hem of my tank top as he leans forward, his bloodshot eyes raking over me. His eyes are bloodshot and hungry. He smells like booze and cigarettes, and even though I’m drunk, fear surges through me.
“Get off,” I shout, shoving at him, but he’s a beefy guy, and he just stumbles forward, mumbling something about how I must be a real bitch to turn down an offer like that. “Hey!” I shout again, trying to knee him in the groin, but he’s too close, and my unsteady blow hits him in the thigh instead.
“Fuckingbitch,” the guy growls, grabbing my wrist. Most of the patrons are still inside or on the main road, but that’s not going to stop me from screaming for help as fear surges through me. Just as I’m opening my mouth to yell, the sound of a gun cocking makes us both freeze.
“Let go of her,” says a familiar voice, in no uncertain terms. “Now.”
It’s Theo.
ChapterFive
I’m too drunk to process what’s happening, other than the fact that he’shere, he’s pissed, and he’s got a gun to my attacker’s neck. “That wasn’t a request,” he says.
“Okay,” the man from the bar says, dropping my wrist and holding up his hands. “Okay. Please don’t. I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” Theo tells him, his tone ice-cold. “Now get out of here.” He moves the gun just enough for the guy to step back, keeping it trained on him the entire time as the guy retreats, arms in the air and eyes huge.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I push off from the wall and stumble forward, my head spinning. “What the fuck just happened?” I say as Theo turns to face me.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice still cold.
“Did you just…?” I break off, waving a hand. “Never mind. I’m fine.”
But Theo just crosses his arms. “No, you’re not.” He puts a hand on my arm, checking me over in the darkness with a look of thinly-veiled agitation on his face. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head to clear it. “I said I’m fine.” But then I realize that my wrist is throbbing a little, and I look down to see a red ring where he wrenched it. The sight of it makes my stomach roil.
Theo catches sight of it as well and his face hardens. “Come on,” he says, holstering his gun. “We’re going home.” He extends a hand to me, and I’m too drunk and shaken to do anything but take it, shivering at the electric shock that goes up my arm when his skin meets mine.
Theo leads me around to the main road, where his car—a Maserati, by the looks of it—is waiting. He opens the passenger door for me and I get in wordlessly, aware of the way he’s watching me in the darkness. Theo gets in silently a moment later, pulling away from the curb with a screech and speeding off back toward the apartment.
I slump back in the seat, letting my eyes close with a groan. My head is spinning, but the air conditioner is blissfully cold. We ride in silence for a couple minutes before I ask the obvious question. “What are you even doing here?”
Theo is silent for a moment, and I crack open an eyelid. His gaze is fixed to the road, and he’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly it looks like it’s going to break off. “Lucas told me to keep you safe,” he finally says.
The wheels are turning slowly, and I force myself to sit up straight. “Did you follow me here?” I ask.
Theo’s expression hardens, but he doesn’t reply.
“Oh my god, you did.” I rub my forehead, suddenly overwhelmingly tired. “You were tailing us.” I shoot him a glare. “Didn’t you say you weren’t going to do that?”
