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“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want just one? Maybe I don’t want to settle down. Not everyone wants a house with a white, picket fence, two point five kids, a dog and a sporty, family SUV. Some of us want to remain unshackled. Unencumbered. Completely free. I know you and Walt are as happy as clams, and believe me, I’m over the moon for you both. But for me? No ball and chain. Thank you very much. Besides, Erma?” He rolled his eyes. “I could never whisper that name in the dark.”
“Gross!” Serenity grimaced, like she’d just eaten an entire lemon. “Although, you do have a point. Erma, oh, Erma! Yeah, it doesn’t work.”
“See? I appreciate you looking out for me, Serenity. Honest to God, I do. I would be lost without you. But please stop trying to find me a woman. I don’t want one and I don’t need one.”
“Everyone needs love, Colt. Even you.”
As he watched Serenity walk out of his office, Colt wondered if she was right.
CHAPTER FOUR
After a pitcher of beer, an order of loaded nachos and the best cheeseburger sliders Ellie had ever tasted, she found herself on the dance floor, gyrating to a song she’d never heard before and smiling so wide, her face hurt.
Lizzie poked her in the side. “The bartender’s been staring at you.”
Ellie glanced over her shoulder. She noticed him the minute she walked into the restaurant. Actually, he was hard to miss. He was the tallest man in the room, with broad shoulders and a firm, square jaw. His hair was dirty blond, with a thick wave in the front, which had her wondering what it would feel like to drag her fingers through. A man that good looking was either married or a player.
“I highly doubt it. I’m sure he’s interested in you.”
“Girlfriend, I know him. His name is Colt Garrett. Trust me. It’s you he’s looking at. The guy is good looking, but he’s not my type. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good guy. Comes from a good family. The only problem is that he has the personality of a bear.”
“A bear?” Ellie took another quick peek at Colt. He didn’t look like a bear. Although, with the size of the muscles he had hidden underneath his shirt, Ellie was fairly certain he could wrestle a bear. And win.
“Yeah, a bear. Aggressive with humans and solitary.” Lizzie did another spin, giving her hips an exaggerated swirl. “But something tells me you might be a bear tamer.”
“Bear tamer? You’re crazy!” Ellie flipped her head back and laughed.
“Hey, look over there. Those are some strange looking dudes.”
Ellie turned around. “Where?”
Lizzie grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her to the left. “See the two bald guys, dressed like they came straight off the set of Sons of Anarchy? Halloween’s what, a month away? Or maybe those aren’t costumes. Maybe they’re really badass bikers.”
Ellie’s stomach sank. Her heart shot into her throat.
Run! You have to run!
She tried to move, but couldn’t. Her entire body had turned into a block of ice. Dark, bloodthirsty eyes raked up one side of her and down the other.
Spike!
She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath and prayed it was the alcohol playing tricks on her. However, when she opened her eyes, Spike was still there. This was no trick. Spike, the man who had shot Cindi in the head, was here in Graceport, staring straight at her, with a homicidal glare that had her pulse skipping beats. He was a murderer. A cold-blooded killer. There was no doubt in her mind what he was here to do. He was going to eliminate her, just like Cindi.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Her eyes bounced around the room, looking for a way out. When she saw Pitbull at the entrance, leaning against the wall and licking his lips, her heart stopped.
She was trapped. And they knew it.
“Honey, you alright? You look a little funny.”
Lizzie’s voice had her neurons spark to life. She had to do something to try to save herself and protect Lizzie. But what? She didn’t have a weapon. Running out of the bar was not an option because those goons were positioned near the exits. There was a fire alarm on the other side of the bar, but that was too close to Pitbull. She’d never make it.Think, Ellie, think!She glanced from Spike to Pitbull and back again. Their slimy smiles making her skin crawl. Maybe they had other things in mind, in addition to killing her. As her eyes did another quick dart around the room, they landed on the bar.
That’s it!
A while back, she read an article on drinks that you could order at a bar that would alert the waitstaff that you needed help. The drink was called an Angel Shot. But which Angel Shot was she supposed to order? Neat? With lime? With lemon? On the rocks?
“I need another drink.” She grabbed Lizzie’s hand and dragged her back to their table.
