“I would never ask you to.” Laurel tore off her pajamas, grabbed underwear and a pair of black jeans and a matching T-shirt, getting dressed in seconds flat. She snatched her purse off the dresser, shot one look over her shoulder at Jace, then bolted from their apartment. Jogging down the stairs, she hoped she could find a taxi to hail at this time of night.
3
Son of a bitch!
Why couldn’t Jace ever get things right when it came to Laurel? He was always tiptoeing around some issue or another until he ended up tripping and blowing everything between them to hell anyway.
He pinched the bridge of his nose before reaching for his ripped jeans and the faded rock band T-shirt he’d stripped off at the end of what had already been a really fucking long day.
It took him a few seconds to stomp his feet into the scuffed black boots that were one of his prized possessions. Laurel had found them at a secondhand shop and given them to him for Christmas a couple years back, before they were as stable as they were starting to be now.
But if she ran off to Heels and got embroiled in Draven’s world again, if she got hurt or worse, none of that would matter. Everything they’d worked so hard for would be for nothing. Motherfucker. He had to find her and either convince her there had to be a better way or—fuck his life—go in with her.
She was a hell of a lot braver than him. Always had been. The thought of coming within a mile of that place or anything to do with their old life made him want to puke. Someday, they were going to save up enough to get out of there, move to one of the coasts where no one would ever be able to track them down, and forget this dump ever existed.
They had to be alive to make it that far.
Jace bolted from their apartment and took the stairs to the street four at a time. He’d apologize to the little old lady who lived below them for making such a racket the next time he brought her groceries. He cursed when he saw the deep brunette of Laurel’s still-damp hair vanish into a cab halfway down the block.
“Hey, wait! Laurel!” He waved his arms as he shouted, but she wasn’t stupid or about to give him the chance to talk her out of trying to save the fucking world.
He jammed his hands in his pockets and watched his breath puff out in a series of tiny clouds highlighted by the flickering neon light of the pawn shop nearby as he panted, realizing Laurel had been right. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to rescue anyone else who might have scored a chance to sneak away from the endless nightmare they lived while part of Draven’s empire. It was simply that he was a coward. Scared. For her. For them.
Doubly so now that she was doing this solo.
Jace jogged in the same direction Laurel had disappeared, toward the main crossroad, and prayed he could find another ride. It took a few precious minutes, but eventually he flagged down a cab and jumped inside. “Heels. Five bucks extra if you make it fast.”
“Going to miss your favorite dancer, huh?” The man gave him a gross, knowing head tilt. “Or maybe something better? I’ve heard you can buy a lot more than a lap dance out there.”
“Drive, asshole.” Jace resisted the urge to punch something, preferably the cabbie’s smug mug. He wished he’d been able to talk Laurel into spending some of their savings on cell phones so he could reach her while they were in transit. At least then he could have promised her that he had her back and that he’d never let her put herself in harm’s way without him to watch out for her.
It seemed like it took three hours instead of five minutes to reach the club on the seedy fringes of the city, admittedly not too far from their neighborhood. They’d done the best they could for themselves and they were only going up from there…if they could keep flying under Draven’s radar.
Truth was they were too old and too jaded to be of much use to the bastard anymore. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t turn their lives into a living hell if he chose to make an example of them. Or, for that matter, end them so they wouldn’t do anything stupid, like trying to get him in trouble.
The cab hadn’t even fully rolled to a stop when Jace tossed a ten into the front seat and hauled ass, tugging the hood of his charcoal sweatshirt up and slouching his shoulders as he tried to fade into the night. He didn’t run for the light streaming from the front door, where bouncers stood on either side. No way.
It had been years, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t ID him.
Instead, he stuck to the shadows and edged toward the rear entrance where Draven imported women, not-so-grown girls, and young men from his various facilities at the start of each night and collected them after they’d served their purpose. Apparently, Laurel had the same idea. He spotted her right before she rounded the back corner of the building and whisper-shouted in her direction.
“Psst! Hey!” He didn’t dare use her name.
But she didn’t hear him. Nor did she notice the figure trailing her, moving like a panther through the jungle at night. Silent, deadly, and definitely stalking its prey. Oh hell no!
Jace’s guts twisted as he watched the man pounce and ensnare Laurel in his arms. She thrashed, skimming the assailant’s shin with her heel, but he was so much bigger than her, and so damn strong. He clamped his hand over her mouth, preventing her from screaming as he dragged her—not into the back rooms of Heels, thank God, but into the patchy woods next to it instead.
Jace sprinted for the spot where they’d disappeared. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle when he crashed through the scrubby shit at the fringe of the trees and barreled in their direction. No fucking way was someone going to take Laurel from him. Not now. Not ever.
He loved her. Even if they never said the words or acted on the emotions underlying everything they did together, he knew she felt the same about him.
So when he saw that ginormous dude with oddly perfect hair—no flabby Heels bouncer either, but someone who knew his way around a gym—manhandling Laurel, Jace lost it.
The bastard was talking but Jace didn’t pause to hear what he was saying. “Hey, calm down. Not going to hurt—”
Jace slammed into the bastard and didn’t hesitate before plowing his fist into the man’s super-solid ribs. He hoped he hadn’t bitten off more ass than he could kick. This guy was fit as fuck and young. Seasoned too. He didn’t seem fazed by Jace’s attack. Until Laurel helped out by kneeing the dude in the nuts. Hard.
“Oof.” He crumpled into the dirt, grabbing his junk. It looked like he was about to make some half-assed excuse that Jace was not about to give him the chance to utter. He popped the guy under his jaw and roared internally as his bright blue eyes rolled back in his head. Out cold.
“Shit!” Laurel glanced around frantically as she scrambled to her feet and flew to Jace’s side. “You were right. This is too dangerous. Hell, it could even be a trap. I’m an idiot. Let’s get out of here.”
“We can’t leave this guy here. The last thing we need is for him to run his mouth to Draven. He knew who you were, didn’t he?” Jace scanned the area around them, but no other goons seemed to be approaching.
“Yeah. He called me by my name.” Laurel groaned and nudged the bastard with the toe of her shoe. “What the fuck are we going to do with him?”