Chapter 12
Twelve
LULU
What a night. It was exhausting, exhilarating, and another steep learning curve.
My mixology classes had given me excellent knowledge, but working somewhere like Rapture, where most people ordered classier drinks than white wine, beer, or a cosmo, I was being stretched every shift. I love it. The walk back? Not so much.
I still had that niggling feeling of being followed, so I took a roundabout route back this morning, hoping that on the off chance my father’s people had thought to look for me in Vegas, that I was outsmarting them.
Could they have found me this quickly?
That thought kept going around and around in my mind, and I had to believe no, they couldn’t.
So my plan is to sleep the whole day away; I can just feel it. I’m not stupid enough to completely let my guard down, but I feel it’s okay to rest, take a breath, and then find a better hotel closer to the club. I made almost a grand in tips tonight.
I smile to myself and wiggle my butt, trying to get comfortable in this crappy bed.
If I’m honest, I had hoped I’d see Rome again last night.
But what was I really expecting would come of seeing him anyway?
He was a good-looking, sexy-as-sin man who possibly only came to Rapture once a week.
But what had Rita meant by Rome saw her first?
Of course, I didn’t ask anyone about him because even I knew that was foolish.
Let it go, girl. You’re not here to meet a man.
You’re here to start a new life.
End. Of.
Sleep. Find a new hotel. Eat. Work. That’s what you need to focus on.
I’m just about to drop off to sleep when I hear something at the door. My eyes pop open, and I strain to listen. A rattle? Maybe just someone walking by. But then I hear something brush against the thin wood.
Oh shit.
Someone is definitely at my door.
Suddenly, the mechanics of the lock move, as if someone has opened it with a key card, and I bound out of the bed and run for the bathroom.
I turn to close the door and see a huge man rush in.
His sneering face is the last thing I see as I slam the door closed and lock it, shoving wet towels from my shower along the bottom, and try to breathe through my hammering heart. I feel like I just ran a marathon.
“Do you think this will keep me out, you stupid bitch?” He’s jiggling the door handle while I desperately search for a weapon.
Shit!
I have hair spray. That would probably hurt his eyes.
I arm myself with the can, but then the asshole goes quiet, and there’s a thud on the floor right outside the door.
It’s a trap.
He wants me to open the door so he can attack.
“It’s not going to fucking work, you piece of shit,” I call out. “I’m calling the cops.”
I’m absolutely not calling the cops, but he doesn’t know that. I know he’s one of my father’s men. I recognized him as a foot soldier who I’ve seen around the house.
And if he found me, then my father knows where I am.
Fuck! How? How could he find me this easily? I’ve covered my tracks, used cash for everything I’ve bought. What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of here?
And where the hell will I go if I get out of here?
God, I’m so fucking tired.
“You can come out.” There are two knocks on the door. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Right. I’ve heard that one before. Go fuck yourself.”
Shit, he didn’t pass out after all. Oh God, what am I going to do? There’s no window in here. I can’t escape. The only way out is through the room. Through him.
“No, you don’t understand. I’m really not going to hurt you.”
“I won’t go back,” I yell in return as the panic attack starts to set in. “You can tell my father to kiss my ass. You’ll have to kill me first.”
I gasp and push my hand against my mouth. Oh God. They’ll kill me. Or, at the very least, beat the shit out of me, and my dad will still make me marry that guy. Whoever he is.
It’s hard to breathe in here. There’s not enough air. Am I using up all the air? Am I running out of oxygen? I’m going to die in this bathroom. Fuck. I am going to die.
“Boss?” a man says from the other side of the door. “We have a situation.”