“Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow.”
I left Nichelle to her attempts at organization and walked to the door, grabbing the small bundle of envelopes on the table as I passed, as well as my bag from the coatrack. When I tugged the door open, cool night air smacked me in the face, and I shrugged my jacket on, relishing the fluffy interior on my goosebump-covered skin.
I was seated behind the steering wheel before I got a chance to look at my mail.
Bill. Bill.
The third envelope had me frozen.
It was gold, where the others where business white. The other thing distinguishing it as different was the fact my name was typed on the outside, but not the address. There was no postmark.
Someone had hand delivered it.
I tore the back open and pulled out a single gold card, the edges beveled and embossed with an intricate black design. It was so pretty it could have been a wedding invitation.
Except that all it had was a date and time and place.
8:00 p.m. Saint View Bluffs.
The date was today.
My stomach clenched. “Fuck,” I whispered. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was already seven-thirty.
With my heart hammering, I started the car and put my foot down so hard on the accelerator that the wheels screeched a little.
I navigated the now familiar route from my house in Providence, through the streets toward Saint View, the houses outside getting smaller and more run-down with every mile I covered. “Hey, Siri? Call Nash.”
The ringtone sounded through my car speakers as I pushed the car as fast as I could. It was a fifteen-minute drive to the bar. And then another five or so minutes from the bar to the bluffs. I was going to be cutting it super fine to get there on time, and I didn’t want to know what would happen if I was late with the money. “Come on, Nash,” I muttered. “Answer the phone.”
It went to his voicemail. I changed tack and called Rebel. Voicemail again. “Goddammit!”
There was no point trying any of the other staff because I was only around the corner. I parked my car right by the doors, not bothering to turn the car off before I dived out of it and ran for the bar entrance. I yanked open the heavy doors, and a wall of sound hit me. I balked at Vincent who was standing guard in the doorway, the bar packed behind him. “Jesus Christ. Where the hell did all these people come from?” I hadn’t even noticed vehicles in the parking lot, but I hadn’t exactly been doing a head count. I was more worried about getting in, getting the money from the safe, and then getting back out to the bluffs in time to meet the dealer.
“There’s some sort of gathering at the Slayers compound, it seems. They all descended here when the alcohol there ran out.”
“Shit. Nash and the others must be run off their feet.”
I squeezed through the people, pressing up on my toes, trying to find Nash among the crowd. His trademark flannel shirt open over a white tee jumped out at me from within the sea of black leather, and I pushed my way over to where he was frantically clearing glasses from a table.
“Nash!”
He glanced up. “Thank fuck you’re here. There’s way more people here than we have the staff for. Can you—”
“I can’t stay. I’ll be back as soon as I can. But I can’t stay now.”
“What! Bliss! For fuck’s sake. We’ve never been this busy in the history of the damn bar, and you’re skipping out on work? We need you.”
I silently held up the gold card with the date and place engraved.
Nash snatched it from my hand. “What the hell is this?”
But then he stared up at me as realization dawned. A fierce determination morphed his features. “I’m coming with you.”
I shook my head. “I only came to get the cash. I’ll be fine alone.”
Even as I said it, I wasn’t sure I was.
His blue-eyed gaze went dark. “Like hell you will be. This might be the guy who killed Axel for all we know. I’m getting my keys.”
I gripped his arm. “You can’t leave Rebel here to run the place alone. We don’t know half these men. That’s not safe.”
Nash looked torn. “She can call someone in.”
“I’ve got to be there in ten minutes! I don’t have time to wait for you.”
“I’ll go with her.”
I spun around at the voice behind me. I hadn’t even realized Vincent had followed me.
I opened my mouth to protest, because Vincent was clearly needed here just as much as Nash was, but Nash cut me off with a glare. “He goes with you, or you aren’t going at all.”