Page 132 of Filthy Elites

Viks nods and leads me up the stairs and down a hall, moving so fast that I damn near drop the flute of bubbly liquid he handed me earlier. He pauses at a door and glances inside before pulling me in after him.

“I was right,” he says, arms closing around me as I try to look around.

“About what?” My eyes light upon the balcony across the way. It looks like this is a special private room for VIP guests with long expensive looking lounge couches, small marble plated tables and low illumination lights lining the walls.

“You only ever say my first name when you’re angry with me,” he says. “It’s practically like we’re married.”

“I pity any woman who marries you,” I say automatically, turning and setting the flute down on one of the tables.

“Yeah? I didn’t know you thought of yourself that way.”

“What?” I blink, turning back and pushing against him as he invades my space, crowding closer until my heart screams against my ribcage.

Viks doesn’t stop me, but a knock sounds on the door—freezing both of us where stand. “Stay,” he orders and my heart nearly leaps into my chest when he pulls out a gun—like a real one, not the little pistol he’d given me that can only shoot maybe five or six bullets max. He pulls free the kind of gun that I’ve seen cops carry— practically invisible against the black painted walls. He flicks off the safety and heads towards the door, leaning up and looking out of a peephole I didn’t realize was there.

He then sighs and tucks the gun away before opening the door. “Troy, you’re running late,” he says, as a man I recognize as one of the many who’d come to Club Outsider a time or two.

“Sorry, Carter had me on another job earlier,” the man says, stepping further into the room.

“I need you to watch her.”

I scowl as Viks nods towards me.

Troy’s head tips back and he glances my way before returning his attention to Viks. “If she’s bait, why is she here?”

“That’s what I want to know,” I comment.

And once again, Viks ignores me. “Just watch her for me,” he says.

Troy sighs and nods. “Of course.”

“I mean it,” he says seriously. “I mean, treat her like you would your fucking mother. I want her safe at all costs even if that means you’re throwing your ass over her if a bullet flies her way.”

“Mitchell?” Does he honestly expect there to be flying bullets by the end of tonight? How dangerous does he think Kennedy is? I mean there are plenty of rapists who aren’t actually violent.

“Don’t worry, V,” Troy says, clamping a hand on his friend’s arm. “I think I get the picture. She’ll be good with me. I won’t let her leave this room.”

Viks blows out a breath, nods, and then spins towards me. “What are you doing?” I ask as he strides towards me, his legs eating up the distance between us.

“I gotta go, baby,” he says, taking me into his arms once more.

“What about me?” I ask. “What’s my role here?”

“I just need you to stay up here and stay in Troy’s sight,” he says.

“So … I’m not bait, then?” I ask, confused.

Viks dips his head and groans. “Yes and no,” he replies as if that’s not a completely and utterly contradictory answer. “I lied, Haley.”

“About?”

“I had to tell Carter you were bait to explain why you were with me, but … I don’t want you in danger.”

“So you’re leaving me here,” I state, glancing past him to the man standing by the door with a baseball cap drawn down low over his head. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but this room, and I honestly can’t blame him. “Why bring me at all if you were going to do this?”

“Because I have to, baby,” he answers. “I don’t have a lot of choices in the things I do, but I swear to you, you will be safe here with Troy. He’s a good person. I trust him with my life and that means I trust him with you.”

“And the gun?” I ask.

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