Page 142 of Positively Pricked
Chapter 47
My eyes widened, and I stifled a gasp. Why was he dragging the senator? And why on Earth wasn't he wearing a shirt?
Had he lost his freaking mind?
Unsure what else to do, I dashed out of my hotel room and scurried after them.
As for the senator, he was screaming like a girl. I could almost relate, because I felt like screaming, too.
All along, I'd known Zane was trouble. He was a prick. A liar. A total reprobate. And now, he was – I could hardly think of the word – a senator assaulter?
On both sides of the long, carpeted corridor, doors swung open as hotel guests leaned their heads out to gawk at the commotion. All things considered, I couldn't exactly blame them.
The senator was still screaming. "Help! Somebody!"
As I moved, I glanced down. I was still holding my little notebook, the one I used for my daily to-do list. If only I had time, I'd jot down a new top priority.
Kill Zane Bennington.
I called out after him, "What are you doing?"
The senator stopped screaming only long enough to holler back, "I'm being assaulted! What the fuck does it look like?"
Dumb-ass.I wasn't talking to him. I was talking to my future murder victim.
Yes. That would be Zane.
As they passed a random door on their left, a couple of teenage girls swiveled their heads to stare at the traveling spectacle.
They were still staring when I scrambled past their doorway. As I plowed forward, one of them called out after me, "Hey, was that–?"
"No comment!" I yelled, hoping to keep the publicity to a minimum.
Probably, too late for that.
Already, the other girl was finishing the question. "Zane Bennington? Oh, my God. I think it was."
Damn it.
Hustling away from the girls, I called out to Zane's receding back. "Where are you taking him?"
Zane didn't even pause. He just kept plowing forward, ignoring meandthe guy twisting and screaming behind him.
By now, the friction had wreaked havoc with not only the senator's suit jacket, but with his dress-shirt too. The shirt came completely untucked and rode up his torso, revealing a stomach that was soft-looking and yes, pretty darn hairy.
The senator gave a particularly girlish scream. "Call security!"
I yelled, "Damn it, Zane! Will youpleasestop?"
After the events of the last couple of days, I wasn't even sure I'd be keeping my job, but I still couldn't afford to take any chances. If word of this got out,I'dbe the one doing damage-control.
How on Earth would I explainthis?
Maybe I should've felt bad for the senator. But I couldn’t, not after what happened last night.
After ditching him at his doorway, I'd returned to the bar in desperate need of that mimosa – which of course, someone had snatched up while I'd been away.
I'd ordered a new one, and had almost finished it when the senator reappeared in the lobby looking surprisingly sober. He hadn't seen me sitting in the shadows of the bar, but I'd seen him, all right.
