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Quinn
“We’re out of flour,” Amara called across the busy kitchen to where I was sitting in my office, wrestling with the paperwork.
I shot up, groaning. “Fuck me sideways. I forgot to send the order last week.”
Vlad pinned me with a stare. “A restaurant that doesn’t have flour. Interesting.”
I growled at him. “I’ll order it right now.”
“That means, if we’re lucky, we get a delivery the day after tomorrow.”
Shooting him daggers laced with poison, I turned back to my office. “We’re closing in five minutes. I’ll sort something out for tomorrow, and then we’ll be okay after that.”
Amara looked at the empty container that usually held the flour. “I can’t do any meal prep for tomorrow.”
Groaning, I went through a list of supermarkets that would still be open. “Fuck. Fine. I’ll go now.”
I didn’t want to deal with the paperwork anyway. Which was stupid, since my aversion to the office was what had put us in this situation in the first place.
Grabbing my keys and jacket off the desk, I headed out back to where our van was parked in the alleyway, calling as I left, “I’ll be back.”
The alley was dark, and I glanced around the space with my heart in my throat. There was nobody around, something that was great if you wanted a free parking spot and no fines. Not so great when it was late at night and you were by yourself.
I should have asked Vlad to walk me out, but he’d been deep in white sauce. I usually called a cab, unless we had to do a big grocery run or delivery—driving in San Francisco scared me, and I avoided it as much as I could—but taking the van would be faster, and I could stock up on other things while I was there.
A scratching noise coming from behind the dumpster made me think of serial killers and rabid cats, and my steps faltered. I wasn’t ready to face whatever was there.
I placed one foot in front of the other, careful not to make too much noise. Maybe I could sneak past whatever was making the sound unnoticed.
A curse told me it wasn’t an animal, and I wondered if it would be safer to go back inside.
My indecision cost me precious seconds. When I finally decided to retreat to the safety of the restaurant, someone stood up from behind the dumpster.
I stumbled back with a garbled shriek and fell on my ass. The person advanced on me, my crab-walking skills insufficient to get away.
“Quinn. How unfortunate of you to go into a dark alley by yourself. Didn’t your boyfriend teach you to be more cautious?”
I stopped, taking in the familiar voice. “Harold?”
“I was hoping to do this without making a mess. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be.”
Who in the world says “alas” anymore? Who is this guy? And what magical boyfriend is he referring to?It seemed someone hadn’t taken their pills this morning.
He held up his hand, and two more guys emerged, looking like they’d embraced the steroids a little too passionately.
Trembling, I put more distance between us only to be stopped when my back hit the bricks of the alley wall. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I didn’t see anything. So you can let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone I saw you.”
A disturbing grin spread over his face. “How stupid do you think I am? I know who comes to your apartment at night.”
My breathing grew ragged, and my vision turned blurry. “What? I don’t understand.”
“I was planning on doing this while there was an unfortunate accident in your kitchen. But this works too. I’m adaptable, you see.”
The trembles overtaking my body made me shake like a leaf in a storm, my teeth chattering so loud I thought the sound alone would alert someone. But I knew I had to get up. Leaning on the wall, I pulled myself up on trembling legs.
The smell of something burning drifted my way, taking my attention away from Harold and his goons.
My restaurant was on fire.
