Chapter Thirty-Seven Nic
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Nic
“What the fuck are you doing in George’s office?”
I jump up from the chair and press myself against the wall next to the window as the man steps into the room. He’s wearing an expression that makes my blood run cold—tense, menacing.
He looks like a man with nothing to lose.
He’s between me and the door; there’s no way out. I’m trapped, and my phone’s still on the desk. Fuck. I was too freaked out to think about grabbing it.
“Hello? Who the fuck are you?” He moves toward me, and I shrink back like a fucking coward. Thank god Harriet isn’t here to see this.
“Oh, um. I think there’s been some confusion.” I clear my throat, trying to steady my voice. “I’m supposed be doing an audit for a Realtor—” I’m struggling to remember a name off the directory in the front lobby. “Cindy Nordyke? Do you know her? I could be in the wrong place—”
He snorts. “Right. An audit. On a Saturday. In September. How did you get in here?” His eyes narrow. “You know, you look familiar. Have we met?”
“Nope. Anyway, I probably should go—”
“Actually,” he says, “I think you should stay. We can chat about what the fuck you’re doing in my office.”
This must be Luke.
I’m scrambling to put together words. “My boss is expecting my call. If he doesn’t hear from me, he’s going to wonder what happened and—”
“Save it.” Luke strides behind the desk and crouches in front of the row of drawers. He yanks on the bottom one, but it doesn’t open.
I glance at the door. I wonder if I could make it there before him.
“Fuck,” he mutters, rummaging through the pocket of his pants. He pulls out a small key chain and unlocks it.
I think I could make it. I take a deep breath, psyching myself up.
Three…
He pulls it open.
Two…
Reaches inside.
One…
And stands.
Holy shit. I freeze.
He’s holding a gun.