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“Why do you think, pet?”
“Elliott?”
“Yes. We’re not going to be caught off-guard this time. No psycho fuck-nut seeking revenge is going to get the chance to shoot you or me again.”
Guilt flooded my veins.
A foreboding chill sped up my spine.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I pressed a palm to my swirling stomach and shook my head. “No. This can’t be happening again. Please tell me Elliott isn’t outside somewhere waiting for us.”
“We don’t know. Dalton didn’t see him on any of the feeds, but…”
“But what?” My voice quivered.
Memories of Mika lying in a pool of blood seared my brain. Fear pummeled my system, and tears stung my eyes.
“We have to assume he is and proceed with caution.” As if sensing my growing panic, he gathered my trembling body in his arms and brushed a kiss over my lips. “Get dressed, love. They’re waiting for us.”
“Who is waiting?” I asked, dragging the silky fabric over my head.
“I assume pretty much everyone,” he said with a hollow chuckle.
As I stepped into my heels, someone knocked on the door.
There was no logical way Elliott could have slipped into the club, unnoticed, and be the one rapping on the door. But logic didn’t stop my heart from sputtering or quash the crushing tremor of fear quaking through me.
Mika yanked the portal open before motioning Drake into the room.
“We’re ready when you are,” the big Dom announced. When my former mentor and protector glanced at me, sympathy replaced his stoic expression. “Relax, sweetheart. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I replied, pinning Mika with an anxious stare.
“Nothing’s gonna happen to either of you. Not on my watch,” Drake vowed, opening the door for us.
As Mika escorted me from the room, the group of solemn-faced Dominants amassed in the hallway sent a rush of paranoia careening through me. Dalton may not have seen Elliott on the security feed, but clearly, someone saw something to warrant this many bodyguards. Fighting the urge to barricade myself in Mika’s private room, I dug my heels into the carpet and shook my head.
Mika snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me in close to his side. “Relax, pet.”
“Relax?” I screeched. “Are you kidding? What’s happening here?”
“Quinn, would you please explain the plan to Julianna?” Mika asked.
“I’d be happy to,” replied the agent and promoter of famous rock bands as he stepped forward. “We’re borrowing a trick Licks of Leather uses to keep the press from swarming when one of them stirs up a scandal. We’re creating a human shield around you and Mika so you can safely leave the club.”
Though I had no problem mimicking a tactic inspired by my favorite rock group, it didn’t answer the one pressing question feeding my angst.
“Elliott’s out there waiting for us, isn’t he?”
“I already told you, pet, we don’t know,” Mika repeated.
“We’re simply erring on the side of caution, Julianna,” Drake assured before darting an anxious glance at the back door. “Let’s do this. I don’t like my boy being outside alone.”
The thought of Trevor putting himself in harm’s way, for me, sent a heavier rush of guilt spilling through me. This whole mess was my fault.
Drake, Dalton, and Max—the biggest, baddest, most intimidating Doms of the club—stepped in front of me and Mika. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, their tattooed flesh blocked my sight of the back door. As Mika pulled me in closer to his side, the other Doms surrounded us, like bees guarding their queen.
