Rules of Protection by Alison Bliss
For Denny, Matthew, and Andrew, the three loves of my life.
Chapter One
I caught him eyeing me from across the room.
He was tall, dark, and…well, interested. I couldn’t get a good enough look to see if he was handsome. Although dim lighting obscured his face, it highlighted the thick, gold chain around his neck and ridiculously huge diamond stud in his ear.
Nestled in downtown Chicago, The Jungle Room buzzed with flashy, well-lubricated businessmen with oversized wallets and scantily clad women with oversized racks. They circled each other like vultures, waiting to see who’d fall onto their backs first. It appeared the men were winning—a form of upscale prostitution.
Gina sat beside me at the bar, encouraging me to do the flirty eye thing with Shadow Man. “It’s your twenty-eighth birthday. Everyone should get laid on their birthday. What better present to give yourself?”
“I can give myself an orgasm.”
Gina laughed. “Not the same.”
I shrugged. “Depends on the guy. Besides, I don’t need birthday sex. I can hardly see him. He’s probably ugly.”
“It’s a one-night stand. Only thing that matters is the size of his—”
“Then pretend it’s your birthday!” I downed my cosmopolitan and spun the stool around. “Bathroom break. Keep an eye out for Dale.”
I followed the hallway to the restrooms. A line formed outside, but moved fast. Two women stepped in behind me, giggling like teenagers. I half-assed listened to them when someone grasped my elbow.
I immediately recognized the jewelry.
The man was 100 percent Italian Stallion, sporting a tight zipper shirt and black hair slicked back over his ears. He was around my age with a decent face—definitely not ugly like I’d thought—and he was tall and nicely built. Actually, he wasn’t bad looking at all. Maybe Gina was on to something with this birthday sex idea.
“Hey, sweetness. Saw you eyeing me back there.” He looked me up and down, licking his lips. “Now that I’m here, what are your other two wishes?”
Oh, jeez. Did he have to open his mouth? I hate men who start a conversation using cocky, sexist remarks. They come off as piggish jerks.
“I wasn’t eyeing you. I was…uh, looking for someone.”
“Well, you found me.”
“No, I mean someone else…the guy I’m with.”
Okay, so I lied. Dale hadn’t arrived yet, and even if he had, no one would believe he was my boyfriend. Ever. I didn’t have the right equipment Dale’s sexual preference gravitated toward. But this guy didn’t need to know that.
“The name’s Sergio. How about I buy you a drink, honey?” He rubbed a finger down my arm as I stared at his weird girly hands.
“No thanks,” I said, moving away.
“Aw, come on. I’ll wait for you, then we can go get that drink.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I can’t.”
He grinned as if I had somehow encouraged him and leaned against the wall. “No problem. I don’t mind waiting.”
What the f*ck? Is he deaf?
“No, really, I can’t. My stomach’s upset and I… I’m going to be in here for quite a while.”
The two girls next to me made faces at each other, stepped out of line, and walked away. Oh, great. Did I just make them think I had diarrhea? Sadly enough, it didn’t deter Sergio.
“Whatcha drinking tonight?” he asked, still not giving up.
I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Pepto Bismol.”
A woman stepped out of the bathroom, and I ran in before the door could shut. I didn’t know what was worse—me pretending to have diarrhea or Sergio not caring that I did. Gross.
Momentarily cornered, I tousled my hair, washed my hands twice while singing “Happy Birthday” to myself, and then reapplied my makeup. Hard to believe it was my birthday, and I was spending it hiding in a public bathroom eating a Tootsie Roll I found in the bottom of my purse.
I even realized something while in there. There isn’t much to do in a bathroom to occupy your time—unless, of course, you actually have the shits.
I’d just finished chewing the chocolate candy when I poked my head out the door. Yes! He was gone. I hurried down the hall and rounded the corner, but Sergio stood at the nearby bar. I ducked back into the corridor, hoping he hadn’t seen me.
I rubbed my hand over my eyes and breathed out. “Christ.”
Then a smooth, deep voice asked, “You okay?”
It startled me at first, thinking Sergio had found me. I pulled my hand away from my face reluctantly and gazed up at a man with wavy dark brown hair. He was tall—probably a few inches over six feet—and wore black slacks and a white dress shirt. His steel gray eyes pierced mine, making it hard to form a coherent thought, much less breathe.
When I didn’t answer, he asked again. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
“Um, I… I’m fine.”
“Let me guess, avoiding someone?”
My sluggish brain finally caught up, and I recalled hiding from Sergio. “You could say that.”
“I just did,” he responded, a hint of southern twang fortifying his voice. “Pull the boyfriend card. It usually works on us clowns.”
“I tried, but this guy is more persistent than most. My friends are somewhere on the other side of the bar, and I’m tired of hiding in the bathroom.”
The man glanced at his watch. “Tell you what, if you’re still here when I come out, I’ll escort you across the room.”
“Best offer I’ve had all night.”
His eyes scanned my black miniskirt, stopping on my bare legs. “Somehow I doubt that.” He turned and walked toward the men’s bathroom.
I blew out the large breath I’d been holding and resisted the urge to loosen a button on my blouse. Sergio or no Sergio, I planned to stay put until he came back.
Okay, so I’m a hypocrite.
Sergio’s remarks and lingering looks came off way more threatening than the new guy’s did. Tall, Dark, and Delicious was virtually harmless and particularly flattering. It helped that he hadn’t approached me with a line; he was more interested in helping… Ah, damn. Men are such weasels.
The guy played me. Of course.
He knew if he showed concern for my well-being, I’d drop my guard. That’s why he did it. Sadly enough, it almost worked. After all, he was no threat; just a gentleman trying to help out a lady. Well, screw him! He could pull the hero crap on some other unsuspecting girl. I waited for him to come out to tell him to his face. But Sergio rounded the corner first.
“There you are, sugar. I wondered if you’d fallen in.” Sergio handed me a shot glass filled with a pink liquid. “I got your Pepto, but I had to talk to three bartenders before I could get your order filled.”
Seriously? Bartenders make a shot called Pepto Bismol?
I hadn’t known it at the time, but what a lucky stroke of genius that was. Sergio must’ve thought it was a drink all along and hadn’t realized I was a smartass.
The men’s bathroom door opened behind me, and heavy footsteps approached. I was still irritated the douchebag had used a diversion tactic to hit on me, but the last thing I wanted was him to stroll up and ask me what I was drinking. It was one thing to let Sergio think I had an upset stomach, but it was a whole other thing to share that false information with the hunky weasel.
I threw my head back, downed the shot in one large gulp, and handed the empty glass back to Sergio. “Wait a minute,” I said. “That wasn’t—”
Two large hands captured my waist, spinning me sideways with dizzying speed, and a sharp, assertive mouth sheared the rest of the words from my lips. The stupid weasel was kissing me. I hadn’t expected it, and it only furthered my irritation. I’d have to play along to make it look good. Either that or I’d be stuck with Sergio the rest of the night.
Damn. I hate weasels.
Begrudgingly, I kissed him back, but only to make it believable. At least that’s what I told myself. If he wanted a show, then that’s exactly what he was going to get. I leaned into him, curled my arms around the back of his neck, and moaned softly.
Immediately, his lips stopped moving against mine, and his body became rigid. I thought it was the end of the match, and we would each return to our respective corners. With me being the winner and all.
Boy, was I wrong!
The moment I began to back away, he firmed his grip on my waist and parted my lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss. No, actually, it wasn’t a kiss, more like a molestation of my mouth. Who was I to complain, though? It was good. Really good.
My fingers slid through his hair. His tongue touched mine, and a fiery sensation rocketed through my entire body. Involuntarily, I shivered, and it set him off. His thumbs dug into my hips as he pulled me tighter against his growing erection. I gasped at his hardness and, remembering where we were, fought the urge to touch it.
A bathroom hallway in a packed nightclub wasn’t where I wanted to partake in a public display of heavy petting. I must’ve surprised him when I responded to his kiss, but it all happened so fast I didn’t have time to contemplate his motivation. Nor did I care to. Sergio had to be standing there with wide eyes and an open mouth, but I didn’t want to stop long enough to check.
When I finally pushed the weasel away, he grunted in protest, but didn’t stop me. Panting softly, I glanced around and noted the empty hallway. Sergio had disappeared.
I wasn’t sure what to say. My brain shifted gears but had trouble getting up to full speed. So I said the first thing that popped into my head. “Did you wash your hands?”
A patronizing grin contorted his face, but he ignored my question and asked one of his own. “Why do you taste like Pepto Bismol…and chocolate?”
My cheeks flushed with heat. “Long story, but it doesn’t matter. Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“You kissed me. Why?”
“Long story, but it doesn’t matter.” He winked and then walked away.
His abrupt departure surprised me, but I was outraged he didn’t ask for my name or phone number. Hell, he didn’t even ask me to go home with him. As if he actually intended to save me from Sergio after all. And I never thanked him.
Back in the bathroom, I composed myself, fanning my face with a paper towel. I was hot, but it wasn’t the kind of heat staved off by air conditioning. Only time—or possibly an orgasm—would cure the fever under my skin.
After a few minutes, I strolled back into the main room more in control of the brain fog that had overwhelmed me. I spotted Gina and Dale walking in the opposite direction from me on the other side of the dance floor. I yelled to get their attention, but the music was too loud.
Weaving through the crowd, I waved frantically and yelled again. “Gina! Dale! Hey, over here!”
By the time I noticed the step up in the floor, it was already too late. I tripped and reached for the closest thing to me, which happened to be a man. Trying to catch myself, I had an intimate moment with the bulge in his pants on the way down.
The floor punched me in the face, but the pain was slight compared to the mortifying beating my pride had just taken. Two seconds after I hit the floor, I decided to stay there. I wasn’t sure if it was because I physically couldn’t get up, or mentally didn’t want to.
The man I’d felt up lifted me with ease, stood me upright, and held me until I steadied myself. Mortified, I refused to look up until I heard him ask, “Are you okay?”
No! It can’t be.
My eyes shot up, looked directly into his, and I stopped breathing. It was the hunky weasel with the steely gray eyes. If I had to embarrass myself in front of someone, why did it have to be him? Where in the hell is Sergio when you need him?
The hunk smiled as if he read my mind. “I always wanted a girl to fall head over heels for me.”
I stood motionless and tried to think of something to say that didn’t sound stupid. “Well, next time I’m near your crotch, I’ll be sure to bring my knee pads.” Nope. That wasn’t it. At least six guys turned their heads toward us and sucked in a breath.
A young Hispanic guy leaned over, flexing his eyebrows. “Damn, girl, where have you been all my life?”
“Out of it,” I sneered. “Now, leave me alone. I’m talking to the weasel.” Disappointed with our exchange, the guy turned away and shrugged to his buddies.
I turned my attention back to the man who lifted me from the floor and noticed he glared with one offended eyebrow raised. “The weasel?”
My cheeks flushed. “It’s what I dubbed you, since I didn’t know your name.”
“Why a weasel?” He paused. “Wait… You thought I was hitting on you back there?”
“Well, yeah.”
The confusion on his face changed to humor as he shook his head. “Nope.”
I guess I should’ve been relieved, but I wasn’t. Actually, I was insulted and…well, pissed off. “Why not?”
“Is that a trick question, where no matter what I say I’m going to be wrong?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Damn,” he said, grabbing my arm and jerking me away from the crowd. “Why are you yelling?”
“Because I’m mad at you.”
“You don’t even know me. Do you have a split personality disorder or something?”
I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes. “You’re a weasel and a jerk!”
My outburst made him laugh. A lot. When he finally got himself under control, he grinned. “Look, I get that you have this head-turning ability and like to stand out in a crowd, but I don’t.”
“You think I turn heads?”
“Sweetheart, a man would have to be blind or stupid not to look.” He smiled again. Damn, I wished he’d stop doing that. “Definitely a looker, but that makes you trouble. I don’t need the unwanted attention you crave.”
“I’d swear there’s an insult somewhere in there.”
“Darlin’, if I insult you, you’ll be the first to know. Now point out your friends. I’ll see to it you get to them safely.”
I scanned the room and found Gina and Dale sitting at a small, round table near the bar. No one could miss either of them in a crowd.
Gina had flaming red hair, bright blue eyes, and a spectacular chest barely covered by a low-cut top. Her boobs were a statement piece; I’m talking breasts for days. She was highly skilled in the sex department and didn’t care who knew it.
Dale was Gina’s roommate. He had blond hair with spiky tips, honey-colored eyes, and dressed ridiculously well for a man—designer jeans, expensive silk shirts, and Italian leather shoes. One look and you knew his sexual preference without a doubt. But he didn’t care, either.
It’s what I loved about them. Neither pretended to be something they weren’t. They were sexually profound individuals who enjoyed sharing stories of their lively bedroom adventures with me. Even if I didn’t have much to offer on the matter.
I wasn’t a prude, but compared to the two of them, I may as well have been a nun.
I pointed out Gina and Dale and, without hesitating, the weasel grasped my elbow and led me across the room, not stopping until we stood before them. They stopped talking the moment we walked up.
The weasel plopped me into the empty chair. He leaned down, brushing his lips across my ear, and whispered, “The name’s Jake.” Then he smiled and walked away.
Gina barely waited for him to get away from the table before fanning herself. “Who the hell was that?”
“That’s Jake,” I said nonchalantly.
Gina and Dale traded questioning glances and then Dale added, “Hellooo, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Yummy!”
“Was he the guy who gave you the eyes earlier?” Gina asked.
I shook my head. “No, that was Sergio. Jake helped me get rid of him.”
“What’s wrong with Sergio? Ugly?”
“No, but it’s too bad about his personality. Not really the kind of guy a girl could fall in love with. He’s already in a relationship…with himself.”
Gina and Dale both laughed.
“Oh, and he has tiny girl hands,” I said, figuring they would draw the same conclusion I had. Weird, girly hands probably said a lot about the size of his package.
Gina wore a wicked grin. “If you were a virgin and slept with Sergio, then you’d probably have to sleep with someone else after him just to make it count.”
Dale and I laughed, but he still looked confused. “So how did Boy Wonder come into the mix?”
“You mean…uh, Jake?” Damn. I still wanted to call him the weasel. “He pretended to be my boyfriend to deflect Sergio.” I wasn’t going to go into specifics about the flirty encounter in the hallway. I needed something to tell them about later. It was all I had.
“He can be my boyfriend any time,” Gina said, fanning herself again.
“He doesn’t look like the type who’d use the ‘take-a-number’ dispenser next to your bed, Gina.” Dale grinned playfully and then motioned to me. “He’s probably available on a first-come, first-served basis, which means our little vixen here has already hired him. I hope it’s for a permanent position.”
“And what position would that be?” I asked.
Gina offered a mischievous grin. “Boyfriend, lover, missionary, sixty-nine…”
“Doggy-style,” Dale added, giggling as he gave Gina a high five.
“Oh, stop it. He didn’t ask me to go home with him. Besides, even if he had, I wouldn’t have gone.”
The two of them gave me a “yeah, right” look.
“Okay, I’d like to think I wouldn’t have,” I amended. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
Dale smiled. “Honey, when it comes to a man like that, we’re all that kind of girl.” Then he shrugged. “Besides, every girl needs to get laid on her birthday.”
“Is that some rule I don’t know about?”
By the time the waitress came over, all three of us were fanning ourselves thinking about Jake. She focused on me, since Gina and Dale both had drinks. “Can I get you anything?”
“Vodka, straight up.”
The waitress nodded and squeezed past us toward the bar.
“Getting worked up?” Gina asked.
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. I’m just thirsty because it’s hot in here.” I undid a button on my blouse, opened it up, and shook it loosely around my cleavage.
When I looked up, Jake stood about ten feet away, his gaze lacerating across my chest. If he would’ve stared any harder, he could’ve seared it open and performed open-heart surgery on me. That would’ve been helpful since my heart had stopped beating the moment I spotted him again.
I shifted nervously in my chair and crossed my legs to keep from fidgeting, unintentionally exposing quite a bit of upper thigh. But it worked to my advantage. The waitress returned with my drink, but before I could pull out my cash, a large hand slid a twenty-dollar bill across the table at her.
“Keep the change,” Jake said. He leaned over me, his eyes raking across my thighs with intensity. “Dance with me.”
“I…uh…” His proximity removed all of the air from my lungs.
“It’s not a request,” Jake said, pulling me from my chair by force.
I looked to my friends for help, but Gina laughed. “He’s better than a caveman.”
Dale smiled flirtatiously at Jake from across the table. “Jake, honey, how’s your gaydar?”
Jake gave a wolfish grin and winked at both of them. “Everything of mine is perfectly intact.”
Gina and Dale drooled on each other as Jake dragged me toward the dance floor. Some support group they were. They threw me to the big, bad wolf, hoping he’d eat me, just so they could hear about it later.
Jake pulled me out on the floor and spun me into his arms as a slow song played. Dale and Gina watched us from across the room.
“You were flirting with my friends.”
A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Just giving them some food for thought.”
“And getting them to take your side?”
“That, too.”
“I thought you said I was trouble.”
He scanned the room, looking everywhere but at me. “Yep, and I was right.”
“I was minding my own business. You came over to me, remember? Why bother, if I’m so much trouble?”
“Because I need a favor.”
That piqued my interest. “Favor?”
“Same thing I did for you. Put on a show to detour some unwanted attention.”
“Y-you want me to kiss you?”
He glanced down toward his groin. “With extreme caution this time.”
My mind instantly recalled the rock solid bulge in his pants from before, causing a surge of lust to run through me. I breathed out hard. “No.”
“No? What do you mean ‘no’?”
“You heard me. No. You do understand what the word means, right? Or maybe you’ve never had a girl tell you that before.”
“Wait, I helped you. You owe me.”
“I didn’t ask you to kiss me.”
“You didn’t exactly decline, either.”
“I was surprised, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”
His stare was unnerving as he tightened his grip on my hand. “Like I said, you owe me.”
Defensively, I yanked my hand from his and narrowed my eyes as the slow song ended. “You can’t force me to do something I don’t want to do.”
“Oh, you want to. You’re just being difficult.”
People cheered as a faster song boomed from the large speakers; apparently, it was popular. I turned to leave the dance floor, but he grabbed me from behind, snaking his arms around my waist. His warm breath caressed my neck. My ass practically cradled his groin as he grinded into me to the beat of the music.
He stroked his large hands along the outside of my thighs, lifting my miniskirt slightly. Then he swiveled his pelvic area back and forth across my ass until my hips were as loose as his. Maybe he was just feeling frisky, but I had to admit the man had moves.
Gina, Dale, and I had a theory about how a man dances representing their sexual ability. In other words, a guy who can’t catch a beat on the dance floor probably has no rhythm in the bedroom, either. So far, the theory had proven true. At least that’s what Gina and Dale told me. If Jake’s presence on the dance floor was any indication of what he was like in bed, then I’d let him dry f*ck me any day of the week.
Jake spun me around to face him. He pulled me closer, though I didn’t think it was possible without crawling under his skin. His dreamy eyes focused on mine intently, penetrating deep, as if he were probing my most intimate parts. He may as well have had his hand up my skirt. The thought alone made me whimper.
I should’ve kept walking instead of allowing him to stop me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I know…but I shouldn’t have been thinking it.
“I won’t ask twice,” he demanded.
Our faces were almost touching. My gaze traveled between his lips and his eyes, contemplating my decision. From our previous encounter, I knew what a tasty morsel he was, and I was starving for more of his…Oh God! I’m going to hell. Drawing a breath, I did what any self-respecting girl would do. I plastered my face to his and held on tight.
A low, guttural sound came from deep within his throat as his tongue glided over mine. My fingers locked behind his neck. His hand slid down to my ass, grabbing a handful, and a hot wave of sensation melted me against him.
My heart hammered against the walls of my chest. I knew nothing involving my heart could be good for either of us—especially since it’s the one organ in my body I didn’t intend to let him near. I tore away from him, stumbling back.
He looked surprised at first, but then averted his eyes to scope the room. “It worked. I don’t see them anymore.”
“Them?” I asked angrily. “Jesus, how many women are you trying to detour?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure it isn’t.”
He glanced over at me. “You’re mad again?”
“I don’t like being used.”
“I didn’t use you, at least not how you’re making it sound. You knew what this was.”
“What’s your point?”
“You walked into this with your eyes wide open, and now you’re mad because you didn’t like what you saw.”
My eyes narrowed. “God, why are men such a*sholes?”
“Because women are…you know what, never mind. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got better things to do.”
He walked away before I could protest and left me standing on the dance floor alone. Frustrated, I made my way back to the table where Gina and Dale waited impatiently.
“Where’s the dreamboat?” Dale asked.
I gave him a sour look.
Dale laughed. “What, no love connection?”
Gina smiled as I picked up my vodka and chugged it. “Damn, girl. He got to you.”
“Shut up.”
She laughed, too. “You know if a man buys you a drink and you take it without going home with him, then you’re a tease.”
“Yeah, but if you go home with him, then you’re a slut.”
Dale grinned. “She’s got you there, Gina.”
“I’d rather be a slut than a tease any day. It’s more fun.”
“Well, I’m not you,” I told Gina. “I’m not going to springboard myself into some guy’s bed because he has a heartbeat and a blood supply that pools below his belt.”
“Hell, I’m not sure Gina considers the heartbeat mandatory,” Dale said.
She shook her head. “You two are wrong. I’m very selective when it comes to men.”
“Are you kidding?” I asked, lifting my brows. “You choose men the same way a child picks out a new puppy; first one who crawls in your lap is yours.”
Dale broke into hysterics.
“You guys are jerks,” Gina said to him.
“It’s a joke,” Dale said, still laughing.
Gina crossed her arms, fuming mad.
“Well, I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier,” I said to her. “But tonight, before you picked me up, I shaved my bikini area.”
Dale and Gina both looked puzzled. “So what?” she asked.
“I thought I’d try something new and be…um…creative.”
Dale looked confused. “What did you do?”
“Is it as bad as the last time?” Gina asked me, grinning.
“Worse.”
Gina giggled. “Nothing could be worse than last time.”
“Wanna bet?”
Gina completely lost it but pulled herself together long enough to explain the situation to Dale, who was irritated he was out of the loop. “The last time this one tried to get creative…”—she used two fingers on each hand to gesture air quotes—“…she ended up looking like she had mange.”
They both laughed, but I didn’t care. The three of us always made fun of each other. Dale and Gina were already roommates when I met them, and although they’d been friends longer, I never felt like a third wheel. A few months ago, they’d even asked me to give up my apartment and move into a three-bedroom with them. But I politely declined. Dale had a tendency to walk around naked, and Gina was a complete slob. No way I’d be able to clean up after her with my hands covering my eyes.
“Don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend is staring again,” Gina said, motioning to the back of the room.
I turned my head in time to catch a glimpse of Jake sweeping the crowd with his eyes before slipping through the doors leading to the private lounges. “He wasn’t looking at me.”
“Oh, he was,” Dale said, confirming Gina’s assessment. “Right before you turned to look. Maybe it was an invitation. I bet he wants you to follow him.”
I shook my head and laughed. “He didn’t even know I saw him.”
“So what,” Gina said. “It would be fascinating to see what happens between you two when there aren’t a hundred pairs of eyes keeping those clothes of yours intact.”
My stomach knotted up just thinking about it. “I’m not going to have sex with a random guy in some storage closet.”
“Honey, I say the same thing every time I’m drinking in a hotel bar,” Dale said with a chuckle. “But I always end up in a room, and I’m never alone.”
Gina grinned knowingly. “This guy has you scared to death.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Any time something scares you, you unleash the sarcasm,” she responded. “It’s what you do.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“See what I mean? Come on, follow him and find out what he’s doing,” Gina said. “He looked like he was hiding from someone.”
Probably one of the women he tried to shake loose. I hated to admit it, but I was curious. His behavior intrigued me. He had looked around as if someone watched him, though I never saw anybody paying attention…unless you count us, of course.
“Okay, fine,” I said, getting out of my chair. “I’ll take a quick peek, but I’m not sleeping with him.”
Dale laughed as I walked away. “Girl, you better watch out for those magicians. Like magic, he could easily make your panties disappear.”
I pretended not to hear him and kept walking. When I got to the back of the room, I paused and leaned against the wall. What the hell was I doing? If I had any brains left, I’d go back to the table and forget the whole thing, but there was a problem. I couldn’t get Jake out of my head.
From the first time I saw him, my mind clouded over, as if he shut it down and forced me to do things I wouldn’t normally do. He caused my brain to fog, but I didn’t know how or why. It was as if he put a dunce cap on my head, and I took it literally.
Now I had a decision: follow him or go back to the table. The smart thing to do was rejoin my friends, but nobody had ever accused me of doing the smart thing.
I let out a breath and swung through the door. It led to a narrow hallway undergoing some renovations. A ladder, some painting supplies, and a few boxes of new lighting fixtures lined the walls. The corridor was long and quiet with no sign of Jake.
Most of the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling were broken or not working. One blinked constantly as if it were getting ready to go out. That alone made the passageway eerily dark, but I followed the length of it anyway.
When I got to the end, I wasn’t sure what to do. I could go left or right, but had no way of knowing which way Jake had gone. So I used logic. The bulge in his pants had hugged one side more than the other, suggesting he was a righty. Therefore, I ended up going to the right, and moments later, came to a door labeled Lounge 3. I opened it and peered inside. Nothing. Entire room was empty, except a few pieces of furniture covered with thick, clear plastic.
I continued on and stopped at the next room labeled Lounge 4. The last door in the hallway. If he wasn’t here, I’d have to try the other hall in the opposite direction. I turned the knob and started to pull it toward me, but stopped when I heard voices. Curious, I cracked the door open without making a sound. I peered in through the two-inch slit and caught a glimpse of more furniture covered with the same thick plastic.
A familiar voice rose as a man walked into view. Even by his profile, I recognized Sergio as he stood in front of the plastic-covered couch against the wall. He spoke to someone out of my eyesight.
“You know it wasn’t me!” Sergio said in a tense voice.
“Take a seat,” the other man said.
Sergio sat, but stayed nervously on the edge of the cushion. “Come on, Boss. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”
The mystery man finally strolled into view in his navy blue tailored suit. He was a short, heavy-set man with a round, pudgy face, a large, crooked nose, and a mole under his left eye. “It’s a shame, Sergio. I told you to lay low and I’d give you a pass, but instead…”
Two men in sleek suits with short dark hair joined his side. They resembled bodyguards, and both silently stared at Sergio.
Sergio stood, waving his arms frantically. “Wait, Mr. Felts. I’m telling you…”
The other man—the one referred to as Mr. Felts—shook his head and clicked his tongue sarcastically. “We have a problem that needs some attention. My associate on the inside says someone’s been feeding data about my operation to the feds. That’s no good. I can’t afford to lose the respect of my family and friends. I need a scapegoat to correct this problem.”
“Please, Boss, I’m telling you…it wasn’t me.”
“Sit down, Sergio,” Mr. Felts ordered. “And stop carrying on. You’re something all right, but you’re not a damn goat.”
The two big men behind Mr. Felts chuckled. Sergio blew out a huge breath. Relieved, the tension melted from his posture as he sat back, kicking an ankle up over the knee of his other leg.
Sergio looked at Mr. Felts and grinned. “Then what am I, Boss?”
“The sacrificial lamb,” Mr. Felts said, as he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a long silver gun.
I barely recognized what it was until I heard a small noise and looked back at Sergio, who rested his head on the back of the couch as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. Blood and chunks of brain matter dripped down the white wall behind him.
It didn’t register for at least a full three seconds. Something was wrong, but I didn’t know how wrong until it hit me.
Then I gasped. Loudly.