4. Scarlet #2
I lifted my chin in acknowledgment, and he stood, surprisingly graceful for someone of his size.
He moved fluidly, a man completely at home in his skin.
There was no glancing around to see if anyone noticed him, no attempt at catching anyone’s eye to flirt or intimidate.
In other words, he was completely beyond the sort of men I was used to.
That wasn’t enough to get me to trust him, though, because he still had those powerful fists and didn’t mind using them. Men with hair-trigger tempers were not to be taken lightly, no matter how handsome or self-assured they seemed to be.
“I hope this doesn’t cause any trouble for you with your boss,” he offered as we stepped off the casino floor and followed signs leading to a small café that served coffee and pastries around the clock.
Stressful situations made me want to eat, meaning the sight of luscious chocolate-studded brownies in the display case made my mouth water.
“Please, let me treat you,” I offered as we approached the counter.
“It’s the least I can do.” He dipped his chin before asking the girl behind the counter for an iced coffee, an order which I doubled before asking for a brownie.
Ordinarily, I would have been thrilled to be seen with a man like him, reveling in the silent opinions of other women.
What a shame my nerves had to go and ruin that.
Once we were seated at a small table close to the counter, I checked the time.
“The clock is ticking. What can I do for you?” Because I needed to manage this.
He was not the one in control here. I was through giving up my control to men, even gorgeous men with killer bodies who had a habit of staring at my mouth when I spoke and holding my gaze long enough to make my insides go fluttery.
A gentle smile touched the corners of his mouth, and humor sparkled in his eyes—eyes I could’ve drowned in and a smile that made me lose my breath.
I wanted to like him. It wasn’t fair. “Right to the point. I was curious about you. I observed a few times the other night when I was first here that people called your name, but you didn’t answer them like you never noticed. ”
There I was, proud of myself for getting better at that too.
“Oh, really?” Now, I didn’t feel like eating a single bite of the concoction in front of me, but I did anyway, breaking off a piece and popping it in my mouth.
Chewing gave me an excuse to stay quiet while I silently flailed around for an excuse. “So you were watching me?”
“I was.” I didn’t know what was more unnerving—his intense stare or his absolute frankness. He didn’t even try to flirt his way through it. He just came out with the truth.
“Why?”
With a smirk, he replied, “I thought I was the one asking questions,” before sipping his coffee. He took it black. Clearly psycho.
This was not the time for irritation to flare up, but it did, and it left me retorting, “I guess I was very busy. Don’t you ever get busy? Distracted, lost in thought? Is there anything wrong with not being able to hear everything everyone says in a busy casino?”
Now, he was going to tell me not to bite his head off. His eyes certainly narrowed like he was about to. Hopefully, he would decide I wasn’t worth the time. “I am always busy,” he murmured, the ghost of a smirk still floating over his handsome face. “How long have you worked out here?”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Wow, I did my best not to get defensive, but I only lasted roughly two minutes. Folding my shaking hands in my lap, I asked, “Please, can you tell me what this is all about? Because I would like to freshen up before I return to the floor.”
A shadow passed over him, stiffening his posture, tightening his jaw.
“Fine. Have it your way.” Nudging aside the cup with the casino’s logo printed on the side, he folded his hands on the table.
It took every ounce of my concentration not to stare at them, remembering the sickening crunch of bones and the alarming but very real thrill of watching someone who hurt me get what he deserved.
“An old friend of mine came to me recently and asked for my help. He told me someone he cares about left him because they learned more than they should have about his business.”
Oh my God. I suspected this, didn’t I? Deep down inside, I knew there could only be one reason why a perfect stranger would take this kind of an interest in me. It was why I didn’t want to trust him, after all.
But hearing him say it? There was a difference between suspicion and having no room for doubt. My stomach turned and sent coffee and chocolate rushing into my throat, making me grip the table and close my eyes in a desperate attempt to hold on until the wave passed.
“I’m sorry if I shocked you.” He didn’t sound sorry, did he? No, he was all business. “But I’m here on a job.”
“A job,” I choked, still battling the nausea that had me in its grips. “I’m glad you think that’s all it is.”
“You think you’re getting away from me? You will never get away from me because you belong to me.
” I almost gagged at the memory but fought it back, rising to my feet, swaying but somehow managing to stay upright as I held onto the table for support.
“Get out of here before I have security take you out,” I whispered, opening my eyes to find him looking up at me with a surprising lack of alarm.
He might have been a man staring up at the clouds, silently observing without a hint of what he was thinking.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said like that made a damn bit of difference.
“I don’t care,” I insisted in a whisper. “Go.”
“Hear me out.” That was when he made the biggest mistake of all.
When he reached out and touched my hand, the shockwave that flew up my arm made me shudder, or was that my imagination?
It would have been so easy to trust him or at least convince myself to.
His touch was electric yet somehow comforting.
Which made it dangerous.
Comfort was an illusion, after all.
And I’d be damned if I let myself forget it.
Yanking my hand back broke the connection.
It was a good thing, no matter how completely alone I felt in its absence.
“Get out of here,” I urged in a whisper.
I didn’t bother waiting to see if he would because I couldn’t stay still.
I had to go, now, far away. Just as far as I could go.
What was I thinking stopping in Primm? I should have gone to Mexico or maybe East, instead.
I should have kept driving and not stopped until the car broke down. And even then, I could’ve walked.
I wasn’t thinking. Panic was too strong to let anything like rational thought take control.
Stumbling almost blindly, I somehow made it to the locker room and pulled out my purse.
“Sarah? What are you doing?” somebody asked when I took off my name tag and tossed it into the locker.
There was no finding the words to explain, so I didn’t bother.
If anybody tried to stop me, I would tell them I was sick. I felt sick, so it wasn’t a lie.
He found me. He fucking found me. There I was, hoping Dominic was bluffing. But no, he hired somebody to look for me. Shit, did he already know I was found? Why hadn’t I asked Grayson?
Grayson Daniels. I needed to remember the name. I needed to look him up and find out who he was, but that’s only one item out of a long list I could handle it later.
Right now? I had to go.
I had to keep going as far as my meager savings could take me.