Page 41 of Room Six

Her shoulders rise and fall with a small shrug. “Just a man in a delivery uniform. Why?”

“Never mind. Go get ready. The main event is about to start.”

Leaving Bailey behind, I rush to the front of the club in time to see a man leave out the front door, his head tucked low. He’s about the right height but so are millions of men.

My veins seize. Blood cuts off to every part of my body.

“Miss Lafleur, Raja is looking for you. Says he has something important to tell you.”

I hear another hostess try to get my attention. “Yeah, thanks,” I hear myself mutter. I’m torn. Do I call the cops and ruin everyone’s evening?Do I pull Raja into my nightmare and tell him the real reason I moved to New Orleans? Or do I swallow my fear and get back to work? I can always head to the precinct after work and speak with the detective.

That seems the saner course of action. I’m safe inside these walls.

Or at least I thought I was. I’m no longer sure of anything.

I throw a quick look back at the door, but it’s already closed and the chains are being placed on the handles. At least there is that. It’s time for magic to happen—as fake as it is. I need to get in the right frame of mind. I duck into an alcove and start my deep breathing routine. Two in fast, one out slow. One by one my muscles relax.

Warm air brushes over the expanse of my bare back. It is as if the night reaches out for me.

I spin around, my eyes landing on every angle of the large parlor room. All the members are filing into the ballroom. Jazz music pipes through overhead speakers. Chandeliers dim a fraction to create an arousing atmosphere.

My heart jackhammers.

I catch the hint of green. I freeze and double back but the crowd shifts too much. My brain is playing tricks on me.

And then the familiar scent of their colognes grips my senses. It carries on the warm current of air—a heady mixture of masculinity and virility. I’m thrown backward into memories I never want to visit. Not unless I’m a half a bottle of tequila into a terrible night and alone in my room. And even then I rather think of anything else but them.

I twist my fingers around the cool, fleeting feeling of hope and then throw it to the ground and stomp all over it as I backtrack toward the main ballroom. Hope can die and painful death right alongside wistfulness. I’m done with both and the tricks my eyes are playing on my abused heart.

“There.” I see a brilliant green and a hint of silver. This time On lock onto the men those eyes colors belong to. There’s one missing. I narrow my eyes and grip the lace and silk of my dress, ready to run. But not before I locate the third enemy. I scan the room, but nothing. What the fuck are they doing here?

The wild look in their eyes to the predatory gracefulness, these beasts of men are as dark as they are deadly as they move in my direction.

“No.” With shaky fingers, I push the long strands of my hair from my face, sure I have to be seeing things.

My heart squeezes and I briefly forget there are tens of eyes watching me. I regain my composure and clamp down on the rolling emotions at seeing Danika and Rune weaving through the crowd.

Both men raise their eyes to mine over the heads of the other guests and I lose the ability to breathe altogether. Forget shielding my heart. They are bombs going off inside me and I can’t catch my breath. Surprise. Fear. Excitement. Curiosity. Anger. So much fucking anger. All emotions clog my throat and twist into a savage ball of knotted roots pulling and tugging my insides.

They grow closer.

“No! This is not happening. You can’t be here!” Rage fires hotter than lightning inside me.

“Yes,” comes a husky voice. Dark brows pull over gunmetal-gray eyes offering Danika an aura of danger. “This is happening, Magnolia. You’re done running from us.” Danika reaches for my hand, but I jerk it away just in time to see him grasp air. I stumble back to find myself shut off from an escape.

“Nope.” I throw my other hand up when Rune does the same, but he is prepared, the bastard. Hot lips kiss the palm of my hand. Fire scorches my skin. I can’t run left or right and these two bastards block the only exit from this death trap.

I jerk my hand back and look up to see a wolfish grin on his handsome face.

“Magnolia, petals, don’t run. You have nothing to fear.”

If lasers were real, Rune would be cut in two.

“I’m not scared. I’m so mad I want to drive a blade through your heart and show you what it feels like getting ghosted.” My treacherous heart stutters, stalls out, and races all at once.

I push forward, my hands on either man’s chest and I don’t know why but they follow my lead and step back. Like they want to play with their food before they devour it.

Me.

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