Damage Control (Dirty Money #2)



Still reeling from Shane’s confrontation, which I’d foolishly convinced myself would never happen, I round the corner to enter the lobby now bustling with people, leaving Shane, along with a piece of my heart, behind in the bar. White tiles line my path to the front exit of the hotel Shane calls home, that I dared to believe I might be able to with him. But this is no yellow brick road, with an emerald palace waiting on me, and it never was. I should have left a long time ago, before I got this close to Shane, before someone like Seth thought I could be a problem. I can’t believe a kiss and a promise from Shane almost made me forget how unfair the burden of my confessions would be to him. And how dangerous. Even knowing this, standing there in that bathroom, he’d made me believe he could take on every monster in my closet and win. To exit the bathroom and find him absorbed in an intense conversation with Seth had thrown much-needed water in my face. I don’t have one monster to defeat. I have many, some of which are not just powerful, they’re capable of destroying him, which means if I lead them to him, I’m the one destroying him.

I can’t do that. I won’t do that.

The sudden urge to turn and look behind me comes with the prickling of the hairs on the back of my neck and a sense of being followed or watched. It’s all I can do not to at least peek over my shoulder, or quicken my pace, both of which will draw attention to me, which I can’t afford. If Shane or someone else is pursuing me, nothing changes. I’m getting in a cab, even if it means making a scene. How I’ll escape from there, I’ll figure out later. I’m about to pass the hallway leading to the elevator bank, and my plan changes. It’s a dangerous decision, and a good way to get trapped, but I cut right and down the hall, hoping for a true escape. All I need to do is get outside, and lost in the many nooks and crannies of downtown Denver. It’s not a good plan, but it’s my only option.

Reaching the cars, I punch the call button and hug myself, nervously watching for Shane or Seth or who knows who else to round that corner. Almost instantly, the doors to one of the two elevators open and I rush inside, facing the panel, about to punch the garage level, when a realization hits me: There’s a camera in the elevator. My mind racing for yet another plan, I punch in the gym level, and hope that it will appear I am hiding there, which could buy me much needed time. Hugging myself again, I wait to be sealed inside, collapsing against the wall when no one stops my departure. Then I watch each floor tick by.

Finally, the doors open again, and I hold my breath, half expecting to be greeted on the other side, relieved when there is nothing but empty space. Exiting into the deserted hallway, and following the signs leading me to the gym, I spy the stairwell I feel certain won’t have a camera. I could go into the gym and maybe get a change of clothes, but that seems like time I can’t afford. Change of clothes. A daring idea hits me and I head for the stairwell. Even if the hallway is recorded, they’ll expect me to go to the garage. I’m going where they won’t expect me to go, and where I can change clothes. Shane’s apartment.

Entering the narrow corridor, I seal myself inside, leaning against the door, nerves jumping around in my belly at the craziness I’m about to undertake, but I see no other option. Glancing toward the lower levels to confirm I’m alone, and then upward to do the same, I find the empty space quiet and empty, a taunt telling me this is what awaits me after my escape.

My cell phone begins to ring in my purse where it rests at my hip and I hope this means he’s only now realized I’m missing. Maybe he’ll think I’ve already slipped past Seth and his security team, who, after tonight’s bombshell, I have no doubt are watching me. Worried about time, I start up the steps, unzipping my purse and glancing at Shane’s number on the caller ID. Inhaling, I decline the call and then place my phone on vibrate before slipping it back inside my purse. I’ll call Shane when I’m out of here, and detach myself from the assumptions he’ll be making about me and his family, before I find a cheap hotel to hole up in where I can figure out what comes next.

Pushing onward, I jog up the next few levels, slowing at the ninth floor, but not stopping. By the time I reach the fifteenth floor, and my destination, my chest is heaving and I’ve ignored two more calls, no doubt from Shane. Cautiously, I crack open the door, glancing through the split to survey the hallway, then widen the gap to confirm my coast is clear. Exiting into the hallway, I don’t walk. I run around the corner and down the hallway toward Shane’s apartment, digging out my key as I go. Once I’m there, I don’t second-guess myself. It’s too late for that. I unlock the door, step into the foyer, and quickly shut myself inside. The familiar scent, all warm spice and masculinity, overwhelms me, twisting me in knots. An array of memories flickers through my mind, some intimate, some fun, while others are intense, emotional even, and I can’t take it. This is gutting me.

Running across the pale bamboo floor, I cut left and up the wooden stairs leading to the second level and Shane’s bedroom. It could have been my bedroom too had I continued to foolishly play house, without considering these monsters of mine would surely find our window and break it open. The frightening image of Shane being ripped through broken glass has me shivering and shaking. I blink back to the present and I’m standing at Shane’s door, gripping the frame. Nothing is going to happen to Shane. I won’t let it.

previous 1.. 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 ..65 next