CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE #2
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” He shakes his head, grabbing a flute of champagne for himself. “You should drink that and then we can figure out who to focus on.”
I roll my eyes. If I knew getting on with this was dependent on my willingness to consume a beverage, I would’ve already emptied my glass.
Like Raven, I gulp the champagne down, pleasantly surprised at the lack of burn and the slightly sweet taste.
” I stare into my empty glass, brows pinched together. “That wasn’t terrible.”
“Great. I’ll get you another one.” Owen takes my empty glass and trades it for a fresh one. “Drink this one slower while we walk around.”
I glance over and see Raven has another glass of her own. She’s linked her arm with Luca’s, so I do the same, hooking my hand into the crook of Owen’s elbow as we move around the room, looking over the people as I try not to start sweating.
“Can they all stop breathing at the same time?” Raven’s voice is low. “I swear this place feels like a sauna.”
“It could definitely be cooler in here.” Owen sticks a finger into the collar of his shirt, trying to find himself a little room. “Let’s just do what we came to do and get the hell out of here.”
I scan all the faces as we circle the edge of the space, looking for anyone who sticks out.
Someone who might be familiar to me. I spent yesterday evening and as much time as I could eke out this morning looking through every bit of information Alaskan Security, Audrey, and I have obtained, hoping to be as prepared as possible for tonight.
Unfortunately, I’m still not sure it will be enough.
As we move, I accidentally drink a little more of my champagne than I intend to, and it’s not long before the glass is empty.
Or the one I grab after it. Thanks to how hot the room is, I’m ridiculously thirsty.
And as it doesn’t seem like there’s any other beverage to be had, I just keep grabbing flutes, continuing to swallow the sparkling, crisp champagne as we walk.
“There.” I stop short and almost point, but catch myself at the last minute.
“I know him.” The man tucked into the corner is pudgy and pasty.
His neck wobbles above the collar of his expensive tux with every move he makes, flapping around like a raw chicken cutlet.
I can almost smell the stink of his overinflated ego from where we are.
And when I shift on my feet to get a better look, I nearly gag at the sight of four young women clustered around him.
Are they young women? Because the closer we get, the more they look like teenagers. Underage girls.
Children.
“That’s J.T.’s political advisor, Boris Miller. He’s helping run his campaign.” Owen steps into my line of sight. “Stop staring.”
“We should go talk to him.” The champagne has made me feel a little more calm. A little more relaxed. A little more chatty. I feel pretty confident I could have a conversation with Boris without calling him big boy or accidentally grabbing his dick.
Which is good. Because if I grabbed his dick, I might try to break it off so I could shove it down his throat, and I’m pretty sure that would bring attention to my presence.
“You don’t need to talk to anybody.” Owen’s eyes land on my champagne flute. “How many of those have you had?”
I shrug, because I wasn’t paying attention to that. “I’ve been busy looking at creepy-guy faces.”
“Whew. I think I’ve had too much liquid.” Raven dances from foot to foot, the movement making her boobs bounce. “I have to go to the little girls’ room.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Luca seems stunned that her body is continuing to function right now. “How in the hell do you think I’m going to get you into the bathroom safely?”
“Why would I be unsafe? No one here knows who I am.” She boops him on the nose.
“And I’m positive none of them are capable of wrestling me out of this place and into the back of an unmarked van.
” She tips her head. “Unless they say they have tiny goats in pajamas in there, and then I’ll probably go willingly. ”
Luca rubs a hand over his face. “Fine. We will take you to the bathroom.”
Raven scoffs. “You think all four of us walking to the bathroom and you two standing outside like freaking bodyguards isn’t going to seem suspicious?
” She rolls her eyes, looping one arm through mine.
“Becca and I will go together because women always go to the bathroom together. No one will look twice at us, and we’ll be right back.
” Before either of the men with us can really process the words Raven quickly rattled off, she’s dragging me away, cutting through the crowd so quickly it would be difficult for Owen and Luca to easily follow behind without looking like a couple of bouncers.
“Becca.” Butch’s voice is sharp enough for my brain to register. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m going to the bathroom with Raven. Calm down.” The words are just coming out of my mouth when I notice Raven is not directing us toward the bathroom at all.
She’s aiming us right for Boris’s turkey neck.
My chest gets tight—not in fear, but in eagerness. I want to talk to him. I want to find out why his name was so directly connected to Trevor Hawthorne’s. I know it could be something as simple as an overlap of career paths and social circles, but I don’t think it is.
I think there’s more to it. Especially now that I’m seeing just how young the girls beside him look. Each can’t be more than sixteen or seventeen. Their faces are round and youthful, and close-up, they look beaten-down and miserable. Like wild animals who have given up in captivity.
And I don’t give a shit what it takes, I’m going to save all of them.
“We need to get those girls out of here.” Raven says what I’m thinking. “But I don’t have any idea how to accomplish it.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
My eyes are moving around the room, looking for something—anything—that might give me the opening I need. There’s an exit relatively close to where turkey neck is sitting. If I can just come up with a way to distract him, it shouldn’t be too hard to usher the girls right outside.
The solution hits me with no time to spare, and no time to warn Raven. We’re only a few feet away when my eyes land on the fire alarm, and I know it’s a cliché, but that’s because it works.
I pretend to wobble a little on my feet, tipping to one side as if I need to catch myself on the wall. Stretching a hand out strategically, I manage to pull down on the lever before straightening away.
The sirens are loud and immediate. Tiny lights flash overhead as chaos erupts around us.
Turkey neck doesn’t miss a beat. He’s worried about one thing and one thing only, and that’s his liver-spotted skin.
He’s out of his chair, eyes wild as he looks for an escape.
I point across the room, directing him to the other side so the door closest to us belongs to me.
Like a sheep, he follows my direction, scuttling away.
Raven springs into action, arms coming out to herd the group of girls away. “Let’s get you guys the fuck out of this hellhole.”
I go in the front, ready to open the doors, but when I reach them, they're locked.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“How do I open a locked door?” Butch has to know how to do this. He was a cop. Cops know how to open locked doors on places like this, right?
“Which door are you at?” He’s in my ear immediately, sounding agitated and angry.
“I don’t know. The back one?” I keep shoving, like I can figure out how to make them open if I’m just aggressive enough.
“Stand back.”
I don’t really register what he’s saying or meaning, and a second later all the air is knocked out of me when a heavy body slams into mine, knocking me to one side.
In the next instant, the doors collapse inward, metal bending, drywall collapsing.
Holy crap. Someone drove a fucking van into the side of the building.
The side door slides open, and Butch glares out at me as Owen scoops me up off the floor.
“Put her the fuck down.” He jerks his thumb in the direction of Raven and the girls. “You get them.” His eyes are dark and threatening as they pin me in place. “She’s mine.”