Page 19 of Brutal Ice

She rushed out of the historic building in a circle of her laughing friends. The others were all smiling. Their voices lifted and carried in the wind.

Violet didn’t laugh.

She didn’t smile.

She did look back. Nervously glancing over her shoulder before she hurried forward with the others, as if she feared being left behind.

He’d been waiting for her. Watching and waiting. Needing that moment when he could get her all to himself again. But she wasn’t alone.

She also clearly wasn’t going home.

Where are you going, sweet Violet?

He would just follow her and find out. And he’d wait. Keep watching and waiting.

Until he had her again.

Chapter Four

“This place is insane!” Simone’s voice rose to a high-pitched and delighted shriek that was almost immediately swept away by the pounding music. She stomped her high-heeled feet and tilted back her head as the lights swept over the heaving, gyrating crowd. “I love it!”

Punishment was packed. The new club was certainly a success. People danced and bounced and drank and laughed. Excitement seemed to pulse in the air. Savannah had its share of bars, no doubt. Hidden speakeasies. Elegant whiskey escapes. But this place…

It wasn’t elegant.

It wasn’t hidden.

It was in your face. Loud. Wild. Heated. Throbbing. The music beat over and over, and Violet had given herself up to that driving rhythm the moment she’d stepped onto the dance floor. She’d always escaped into dance. Always. And she escaped again tonight.

She’d had shots. Two? Yes, two of them. Chocolatey and delicious. Provided by Simone as the whole dance crew had downed them at the same time. And Violet wasn’t afraid any longer. Would not let herself be afraid. For the first time since that terrible night, Violet felt like she was living again. She felt like she was just like everyone else again.

And she didn’t want to stop feeling that way. She didn’t want the night to end. She wanted to dance and dance and forget everything else.

“The owner is supposed to be some big mystery man.” Simone closed her eyes and danced even harder. “A guy with more money than God but with a shady past that would give the devil pause. He bought this joint six months ago…and look at it now!” Her eyes flew open. “Love it!”

The lights raked over the crowd again. Revealing. Concealing. Revealing. Concealing.

“More shots!” One of the male dancers pushed closer. “Here we go…these glow. Aren’t they freaking amazing?”

And they were glowing. And the other dancers were reaching for the shot glasses, and Violet reached for one, too. Her fingers curled around it, and she started to lift it to her lips.

A strong hand curled around her wrist. Heat pulsed through her at the touch. An unmistakable awareness, and she knew who owned that hand even before her head turned and she met his intense, burning eyes.

Royal.

“Don’t drink any damn thing,” he growled. “Unless you see the bartender pour it yourself.” He took the shot from her hand and pushed it back at the other male. But Royal never glanced at him. “You should know better,” he fired at her.

And suddenly she wasn’t so free. The night wasn’t so safe. I’m not like everyone else.

She tugged free of him and whirled on her heel. Violet began marching for the exit.

He stepped into her path.

The lights rolled over them. Concealing. Revealing. Concealing.

“You followed me!” she accused him. “That’s called freaking stalking, Royal!”

The band played louder. Had he even heard her words? Probably not.

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