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“No. Now come on,” Ben interjects as his friend indignantly wipes champagne off his face. “Bad form, Abbey.”
I don’t give a shit. I grab my phone and dart for the bathroom before anyone can get a hand on me. I hear a knock just as I lock the door and throw my back against it for good measure.
There isn’t much battery life left, and the nearest Uber is thirty minutes away. I suddenly hate Friday nights in London. The first tremors of panic start rippling in my stomach. I check every rideshare in the city for a quicker way home. No luck.
Damn it.
They’re pounding on the door now, and I’m not sure I can stay in here another five minutes before Ben finds a key or a battering ram. In desperation, I type out a quick SOS, then check off a bunch of names in my contacts list and send it off in the hopes someoneon that list will come for me. In the meantime, I sink to the floor, pressed up against the door, feet braced, prepared to fight to the death against the coked-out horde.
Somehow, of all the escapades I envisioned for myself, I never imagined when I moved to London that I’d be holed up in a British lord’s powder room above the city, his rabid scavengers clawing at my back.
I’m pretty sure this is precisely what my father pictured. Dr. Wu will have to medicate him if Dad ever finds out about this.
“Abbey, I’m sorry,” Ben pleads after a couple minutes. “We were only having a bit of fun. We’re terrible, I know. Come out and let us apologize. No harm done, right? Be a good sport.”
It goes on like that, every few minutes or so. Until they bore of me, and I hear the muffled laughter of them taking to mocking me instead.
Then, a new commotion.
Shouting.
Doors slamming.
A glass breaks.
I hear my name echoing through the penthouse, followed by a forceful knock at my back.
“Abbey, you in there? Let me in.”
Relief hits me like a tidal wave. “Jamie? Is that you?”
I scramble to my feet and open the door for Jamie, who slips inside and slams it shut behind him. He grabs me by both shoulders and meets my eyes with his frantic gaze.
“All right, Abbs?”
“Yeah, good.” I suck in a deep breath as what’s just occurred solidifies in my mind. “You got my message? That was quick.”
“We were at a pub nearby.” He gives me a once-over, scanning me from head to toe. “What do you say we get out of here?”
Outwardly, he’s calm. Entirely unruffled. But I suspect that’s for my benefit.
It’s working.
I swallow in relief. “Sounds good.”
He takes my hand and leads me toward the living room, where I spot Lee first. Poor guy looks distraught and lets out a held breath once our eyes lock.
Then there’s Jack, who doesn’t notice me as he badgers Ben.
Fuck.
My stomach drops at the sight of him. I have a feeling I’m in for a long lecture tonight.
“Oi, I don’t want to hear it, mate,” Jack’s growling at my captor.
“I’d kindly ask you to take your hands off me.”
“If I mean to put hands on you, asking nice ain’t about to stop me.”
