Louise
I didn’t want Stacey to see Sean, so I slipped out of the apartment and met him in the hallway. Thank God Kayley had dozed off in her room, so I didn’t have to explain to her where I was going.
Sean took a long look at me, taking in the borrowed dress and the heels. Unbidden, I felt my whole body react under that ferocious gaze, icy cold and yet burning hot at the same time.
“You look amazing,” he said. It wasn’t like any compliment I’d been paid before. It was so simple and heartfelt—it made me feel amazing.
Outside our building, a full-on summer storm had started complete with charcoal sky and hard, beating drops that hurt your skin.
It would be gone again within a half hour but, for now, it would soak us to the skin as soon as we stepped outside.
Sean put a hand on my arm—stay put—and then stalked out into the middle of the street, ignoring the rain entirely, and put a hand out to stop a passing cab.
Then he stalked back to me, whipped off his leather jacket and held it like a tent above my head.
We jog-walked to the cab and everything except my legs stayed dry.
Inside, we both sat there brooding. I stared out of the window at the hammering rain: after weeks of dry weather, every parched blade of grass and struggling weed was straining towards the sky, desperate to receive something.
The cab swept into downtown, passing bars and fancy restaurants, and my fear started to build.
We pulled up outside a big, slate-gray place that stood on a corner, with a neon saxophone outside.
There was a line outside, people standing under umbrellas and slowly shuffling towards the door.
Two doormen were checking IDs. It could have been any club—there was nothing to suggest it was owned by a.
..I didn’t even know what to call Malone.
Drug dealer didn’t cut it. Supplier? Kingpin?
It brought it home to me that there was a whole other Los Angeles, a whole other world, lurking beneath the one I knew, a world I’d spent my entire life staying away from. “I’m scared,” I said aloud.
Sean had been studying the doormen. He turned to me, but I was too busy eying the club. “Look at me,” he said, his accent cleaving the air. When I focused on him, he said, slowly and deliberately, “I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay?”
I took a deep, panicky breath. “Promise?”
His voice softened a little. “Promise.”
We ran across the street and under the shelter of the club’s awning. I went towards the end of the line but Sean shook his head and led me straight towards the doormen. Both of them squared up when they recognized him, blocking the doorway.
“Easy,” rumbled Sean. “I’m just here for a meeting.”
The doormen muttered into their earpieces, glaring suspiciously at Sean.
I barely warranted a glance. Eventually, they heard back from whoever was on the other end of the radio and nodded us through.
Another big guy in a suit directed us through a metal detector, and then gave Sean a quick pat-down and checked my purse, just to be sure.
We didn’t have any weapons to give up, but it still felt as if we were being made safe, in the way a creature might be de-fanged and de-clawed before being served to the king on a platter.
With every step we took into the club, the outside world seemed to recede.
The main room was a huge, dark cavern with tiny, closed-packed tables and a small stage.
Most of the lights were aimed at the stage, with only flickering candles lighting the tables.
Every seat was full and there was barely any room to stand.
Even so, the crowd parted like water when the security guards marched us through.
We stopped in one corner and were told to wait behind a red velvet rope while a guard went on ahead up some stairs—presumably to announce us.
The fear had been building steadily ever since we’d pulled up outside.
It wasn’t just knowing that we were right in the heart of a criminal’s lair, it was knowing I had to convince him that we were serious.
This world was Sean’s second home but I felt like what I was: a pretender.
And as soon as we got in there, Malone was going to figure it out. “I can’t do this,” I muttered to Sean.
“You can.”
“I’m not a criminal!” I hissed. I knew it was a stupid thing to say, considering the DEA would quite happily put us in Federal prison for what we’d been doing. “He’ll know,” I told him. “He’ll know that I’m just...nobody.”
Sean turned to me and took hold of me by the shoulders.
“You’re not nobody,” he told me, and he said it in a voice that allowed no argument.
He almost looked angry that I’d said it and that made my heart flip-flop.
“Look,” he said. “Most of this shit is just attitude. We don’t have fucking resumes.
You’re a grower because you damn well say you’re a grower.
Attitude. Like I have to be a scary fucker. ”
I swallowed. “But you are scary.”
He glanced at me. “That still how you think of me?”
We locked eyes. “No,” I said at last. “But I can’t be scary. I’m the least scary person in the world.”
“You don’t have to be scary. That’s not what we’re selling you as.”
“What am I?” I asked.
“The brains. And you don’t have to pretend about that.”
I felt my heart swell.
Footsteps descended the stairs. Sean grabbed my waist and pulled me close, his big hand sending pulses of heat through my dress. “You listen to me,” he ordered, and his words were like rough-edged slabs of granite. When he spoke like that, you listened.
He put his mouth close to my ear and his voice changed. The words were still hard, cold stone but each one seemed to glow cherry red at its center. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Smarter than me, smarter than Malone, smarter than anyone in this whole fucking game. You remember that.”
I swallowed and nodded.
The guard returned, unclipped the velvet rope, and led us upstairs.