Page 25 of Say My Name

“What else should I expect from you?” I step closer, but lose my footing and before I crash to the ground strong hands wrap around my waist, keeping me upright. “Thank you,” I whisper as he steadies me.

“You’re welcome.” He keeps his hands lightly on me as his cigarette dangles from his tempestuous lips.

Once I’m steady, I take a few steps back. “Now you’ve saved my life twice tonight.”

The corner of his mouth lifts with amusement as he flicks the ash from his cigarette and returns it to his mouth. With his other hand, he reaches into his suit pocket and produces a pack of smokes. “Want one?”

I should accept, so I can keep him talking, sneak in a question or two. Yet, I can’t bring myself to accept it.

I shake my head at the offer. “I don’t smoke.”

He returns the pack to his pocket and drops the cigarette onto the ground, stubbing it out with his expensive Italian shoe. “Suit yourself,” he says, pushing off the wall.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I try not to gawk at him like he’s a rare gem in a museum. “I think my mother would kill me if she caught me smoking.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “You always do what your mother wants you to, Swan?”

My insides melt a little at the way he says my stage name. Does he even know my real name? I’m sure he does. I’m sure Devereaux knows everything about his club employees.

“Well, it would definitely be unexpected if she caught me.”

He reaches into his pocket again, opening the pack and offering me a cigarette again. “You sure?”

I blink up at him. “You’re a bad boy, Mr. Huxley, trying to peer pressure me into accepting.”

He laughs, and the sound is rich and smooth. “I wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything.”

I chew on the inside of my lip, wondering if it’s the right time to bring up the murders. This situation requires finesse, and I need this man to trust me. To want to open up to me. Better yet, to keep me employed long enough that I can figure out things on my own. I’ve talked to a handful of girls who work here, and they’re all saddened by the news, but none of them were helpful with the investigation.

“I should get back to work,” I tell him, spinning on my heels, deciding now isn’t the best time. Before I open the door that leads into the back hallways of the club, I peer over my shoulder. “Thank you for handling that guy.”

He nods. “I wouldn’t want to give your boyfriend any reason to worry while you’re under my roof.”

The boyfriend. I keep forgetting about him whenever I’m around Devereaux. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate your chivalry.”

I glimpse a scowl before I head inside, and it does nothing but confuse me more. The rest of the night passes by in a blur, and when I finally make it back home, I head to the fridge for a beer before opening Devereaux’s file on the counter.

I study his life story again, trying to glean if he fits the mold of a killer.

When we were on the loading dock, he appeared so lonesome. Like he couldn’t hurt a fly. The way he caught me when I stumbled was gentle. Protective. Yet, the way he manhandled that man with dangerously controlled movements suggests he’s not one to underestimate.

But if it is him, why would he murder his employees?

I can’t stop staring at his photo, at his eyes that I swear can see straight through me even though this is a picture. The eyes that ate me up when we were alone together out on the dock. The same eyes I can’t stop seeing every time I close mine.

What’s my problem?

I need to stop obsessing over the enemy.

I glance over my shoulder before I get in my car to make certain I’m not being followed by anyone. Lately, when I leave my house for work each day, I feel like there’s somebody watching me, but it could be the negative energy of working at a club where women are being targeted.

It makes me cautious, even more so since I’m on my way to meet Finn.

I hop in my Volkswagen and take the path Katherine gave me when I first took this assignment. Drive through town, turn left at the Handy-Mart, go to the outskirts of Saint Pierce, and circle around a few times to assure no one is following before I park my car under a small overpass. And wait.

It’s the waiting that makes my nerve endings tingle.

Finn and I decided to meet on Sundays because it’s Club Greed’s day of rest. Even sinners take a break. The sun peeks over the horizon as I head toward my rendezvous with Finn, and usually, I’d admire the vibrant splashes of oranges and yellows splattered across the sky, but my mind is still trying to process everything that happened last night at the club. The way Devereaux’s eyes crashed into mine when he whispered my new name, Swan.

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