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They both scowl but share a glance that speaks volumes.
“If you’re not back in five minutes, we’re coming down,” Tobias snaps.
I give him a salute and walk out the door.
Let them come down. I need more than five minutes.
In the elevator, I press the button for the ground floor and lean against the wall, waiting for the car to move.
It’s slow, but eventually, the doors slide open, and I step out into the hotel lobby where I follow the signs to the bar and sit.
“Whiskey on the rocks, please,” I say when the bartender approaches me.
He stares at me for a long time then shakes his head. “Sorry, long night. What did you say?”
I laugh. “Tell me about it. Just a whiskey on the rocks.”
“You got it.” The bartender pulls out a glass and goes about pouring the drink.
I sit and sip it and survey my surroundings. The bar is mostly empty at this time of night, but there are a handful of patrons sitting at the various tables nursing cocktails and talking with their table mates, including one table of women who seem to be celebrating something. The bartender is now on the phone, his eyes darting around the room as if he’s worried his boss might catch him talking on the company’s dime. He hangs up and saunters toward me with a cheeky grin on his face. “Want another?”
I tilt my glass and watch the liquid pool to one side. “I really shouldn’t. My…” I hesitate. What do I even call them? “…Companions will be looking for me if I don’t get back to my room.”
He holds up the bottle. “I’ll make it a small one.”
When I shake my head, he frowns, as if he really wanted me to stay. But the look passes quickly. “Which room are you in? I’ll put it on your tab.”
I tell him the number and finish the drink.
As I’m about to slip off the stool and head back to the room, the bartender returns and slides me a stack of what look like business cards.
“Three of you, yeah?”
When I nod, he says, “Bring your companions back. A couple free drinks for each of you.”
I smile and tuck them into the pocket of my yoga pants. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
As I head to the exit, a man steps into my path.
“Excuse me,” I mutter without making eye contact.
But he doesn’t move. I look up and freeze. Something about him looks familiar, but I’m not sure what it is.
“Can I help you?” I finally ask.
“Come with me, Princess.” He slides a hand into his pocket, and I’m certain he has a gun. Fuck. I’m pretty sure this man was one of the shooters at my wedding. How did he find me?
Suddenly the bartender’s behavior makes sense. The way he zoned out when I was ordering and then he was on the phone looking shifty-eyed. Perhaps his attempts to get me to stay longer weren’t as friendly as they appeared. He was on someone’s payroll and just happened to get lucky. We should have known that whoever was behind this was well connected in this area. Where the hell are Owen and Tobias? I expected them to already be dragging me out of here by now.
Instead, I’m faced with obeying the stranger in front of me or refusing and risking the lives of everyone in this place.
“What do you want?” I demand, keeping my voice calm. There’s no way I’m letting this bastard know I’m terrified.
“I want you to be good and follow me, so no one gets hurt.”
Taking a step back, I survey my surroundings. This is bad. Very bad. No one knows who I am here. They have no reason to want to help me.
I take the coupons from the bartender out of my pocket as I back away from the stranger, and I stop when I get to the table of boisterous women.
