Page 17 of Wretched Soul
“Not ones like Heatrush,” I complain.
“You’re only saying that because of you-know-who. Or in your case, you-don’t-know-who.”
I move my finger over the touch pad of my laptop so it doesn’t go into sleep mode while I’m supposed to be working. “Ha. Ha,” I say morosely. But she has a point.
“Listen, honey. If your man wants you, let him come find you. And besides, Heatrush might be exclusive, but it’s already had its fair share of trouble.”
“What trouble?” I ask as I recall the lecture Shade gave me about watching my drinks. The creep who’d tried to pick me up had been high on something, but I’d noticed how the barman was watching us. I felt safer than I do in most places.
“What about the men who were beaten up?” she asks.
“Who was beaten up? Was it staff?” I ask, immediately wondering if the skirmish involved the doormen. I hope Simonwasn’t hurt. He seemed like a nice person once you looked beyond the surly facade.
“Sorry, I forgot you’d left before it happened, and no, it wasn’t staff. Just two random guys getting their arms broken. I heard they touched someone’s woman.” She sighs. “I wish someone would be that protective of me.”
“They had their arms broken?” I repeat as my stomach flips.
“Their attacker walked away without a scratch apparently. Not that anyone admitted seeing him,” Kaitlyn says. “He must have been one of those people that you make a point of not seeing, if you know what I mean. The Moncriefs might be upstanding citizens, but I bet they know plenty of dubious characters.”
I rest my elbows on my tiny home desk so I can drop my head into my hands. Hadn’t Shade made a joke about breaking the arms of anyone who touched me? It was a joke, right? He can’t be responsible for the attacks. I’m not his woman. He might have said he should make me his, but then he’d left. What happened to those guys was just a coincidence.
“I need to go back there,” I mutter. Maybe Shade will spot me in the queue again and use his connections to get me inside. And even if he doesn’t, Simon would surely remember me. I straighten up in my chair. “I might have a plan. Are you in?”
Kaitlyn’s laugh bounces down the line. “I’ll always be your wingman, Lily.”
The little black dress I treated myself to is a halter neck, and my shoulders are exposed to the cold as we exit the cab. Kaitlyn came over to my apartment first and we’d shared a bottle of winebefore leaving a little later than we’d intended. I’d needed the extra fortification.
What if Simon isn’t on duty? Or he is, but he doesn’t let us in? What if we get inside and Shade isn’t there tonight? What if he is there, and he doesn’t come and find me because he’s too busy with someone else?
“Hurry up!” Kaitlyn says, dragging me to the front of the queue. “And I’m warning you now, if we’re forced to join the line, then I don’t care how hot your man is, unless he has a friend who can thaw me out, we’re going somewhere else.” She gives me a sly look over her shoulder. “Or we could share.”
“Keep your hands off!” I say with a laugh as if there’s any chance I can claim Shade as my own.
Kaitlyn shrugs. “No worries. It’s not like I’d want to rely on your taste in men given your last–”
“Don’t you dare mention Connor’s name!” I warn.
We stop in front of a red rope being guarded by two men I don’t recognize. I can almost sense my friend preparing to pull us away.
I smile sweetly at the first doorman. “Hey, there. Is Simon around?”
He looks me up and down. “Who’s asking?”
“Lily Kendrick. He’ll want to know I’m here,” I say with unwarranted confidence.
The doorman turns away and speaks quietly into his earpiece. The howling wind makes it impossible to hear what he’s saying, and I have to hope he’s talking to Simon. When he’s finished, he ignores me completely and checks the IDs of the couple waiting at the front of the queue.
“I’ll just wait here then, shall I?” I say, my words dripping with sarcasm.
I shift from foot to foot, hoping my feet don’t turn blue in my strappy sandals. It’s not the look I was going for. Kaitlyn nudgesme as a dark figure fills the doorway. I don’t remember Simon being so damn big, or quite so intimidating. He doesn’t seem too pleased to see me.
Unhooking the rope, Simon allows us to step over the threshold, but stops us from going any further. “Your names aren’t on the list.”
“I know,” I say with an expectant look that I hope conveys my plea to let us in anyway.
Despite having a day to prepare my case, my argument is weak. How can I convince Simon that I’m a favored guest of someone who may or may not know the Moncriefs, when I don’t even know Shade’s name?
“Why are you here, Miss Kendrick?”
