She’s shocked. She says nothing.
And fuck, she smells good.
“At least two weeks,” I add under my breath, but make sure she hears this.
A crowd moves past us, creating a distraction, so I grab her hand and lead her back to the table. I don’t let go until she sits.
I signal the server who comes over quickly.
“Another round,” I say.
“Absolutely, Killian.” She heads off in a hurry.
My eyes settle on Violet. She’s looking everywhere but at me. I’ve thrown her off with my comments, with the physical closeness. She doesn’t know where to look or how to behave right now. And I find her reaction amusing. I want more reactions from her. Her shyness right now is appealing as fuck.
“Your staff is doing amazing, tonight. I’ve paid attention to them and everyone is working really hard.” She says this, looking around her, still avoiding my gaze, obviously feeling it, and trying to distract me.
“Good. They’ll all get their bonuses then.” I lean back in my seat and get comfortable, crossing my feet at the ankles.
She laughs; her eyes finally meet mine.
“Serious. You think that, that tells me it’s a success,” I say.
She rolls her eyes, but she’s got those dimples on display.
I reach over and grab her hand, then rub my thumb across her knuckles. Her hand is small, delicate. Warm.
“Guests were told no tips tonight, everyone is one hundred per cent my guest; this means I pay gratuities tonight.”
“If I told you some of them sucked at their jobs, I could effectively cost them a bonus?” she asks.
“If you told me that some of them sucked at their jobs, you could cost them more than a bonus. You could get them canned.”
“Pff.” She scoffs. “You’re putting a lot of stock into what I have to say. Not sure that’s a good idea.” She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go of it.
“That’s okay. I’m sure. I have excellent judgement skills,” I tell her with a wink.
She smiles. And then her smile falls.
And it pisses me off, because she’s thinking about him, about her judgement about him.
Her face changes again. “My purse is buzzing. One sec.”
I release her hand.
She frowns as she lifts her phone out of her bag. “Um, Killian?”
She slides the phone across the table to me and I see a notification of two missed calls and a text on her screen from the same local number.
“It’s me ray. Go outside the main exit before 9:05, babe. Very important. Make an excuse to go to the bathroom. trust me, vi. Don’t tell kill. Please. I’m begging u. If I ever meant anything to you trust me on this . you are in danger. Msg back asap to let me know you’re coming.”
I look up from the phone straight into her eyes. She’s looking at me with concern, but also with absolute trust.
She’s not his any longer.
She’s mine.
I fucking feel it. It hits me hard and yet it doesn’t knock me over; knowledge of this feels like strength to me. A surge of absolute power.
What the fuck is that shithead up to? I mean, yeah, I had a feeling he’d pull something tonight. I already knew he was here from the text I got before I met her that he was a block away from here and I have men surrounding him, waiting for his approach.
He makes the first move, not us, so we have a leg to stand on if anything goes legal.
I gesture for Tony, my security lead at Genesis, who was supposed to have the night off but came at a moment’s notice when I got word Ray bought a gun today.
He comes straight over and notices I’m gesturing to Violet’s screen. Tony reads over my shoulder and gives me a nod and then puts his hand to the earpiece as he leaves. He’s talking to Wes and Jagger.
“Baby, I’m gonna put you in my office for a few minutes while I deal with this, okay?” I say, rising.
27
Violet
I’m flummoxed.
He cups my shoulder and brings me closer, his mouth near my ear.
“I’ve had Wes following him. He bought a gun this morning; we knew he was a block away an hour ago,” Killian says this into my hair as my back goes arrow-straight. “Stay calm, Violet. I’ve got this covered. Not a thing to worry about.”
I have very little awareness of being walked upstairs to a big office that overlooks part of the place. It’s a swanky space surrounded by dark glass with a bird’s eye view of much of Numbers. We gained entry after Killian put his thumb to a screen outside the door and I can see the bowling alley, the arcade floor, and the billiards area. Other parts of the place are on a panoramic screen showing video footage. The screens came to life as we entered.
I’m taking it in while trying to formulate questions, thoughts, something.
A gun? I’m stuck on that part.
“I’ll be back for you. I’ll send a server up with another drink,” Killian tells me.
“No booze. Water, please.” I say, needing my head clear, because I’m completely discombobulated.
He hands me my phone. I tap it for the time. 8:51.
What in the world is going to happen at 9:05 when I’m not down at that exit?
“Can you stay? Let your security deal?” I ask.
He looks me right in the eyes and lets out a breath. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that. I need to see to this.”
I bite my thumbnail, but then my phone dings again with another text from Ray. A line of question marks.
“Don’t be frightened. It’s fine. Trust me.” He’s directly in front of me, looking at the screen.
“He’s not a gun violence type, I don’t think, Killian. I don’t… I’m thrown.”
“Of course you are. Thank you for showing me the text. Thank you for trusting me. Don’t answer him. I’ve got this.” He cups my jaw and looks deep into my eyes.
“Don’t get hurt. Please,” I plead.
His lips part, his eyes drop to my mouth, and his thumb grazes my cheekbone before his eyes bounce back up to lock with mine.
His expression warms.
“And d-don’t hurt him.”
His expression changes just marginally, but then his phone makes a text alert sound, so his attention snaps to it, though he doesn’t let go of my face as he lifts it from his pocket.
“What’s gonna happen?” I ask.
“I’m gonna go see what’s what.”
I stare as he pockets his phone.
“I’ll be back. Stay here. There’s a private bathroom there if you need it.” He gestures to a door before he kisses my forehead softly and my eyes close as I feel the sensation of his lips lingering there.
I empty my lungs of air as he caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers. And then he’s gone.
Not only am I thrown by the fact that Ray’s here, with a gun, but the way Killian has been since we’ve arrived here. The comments. The lingering looks. The affection.
I give my head a shake. I’m feeling overheated, suddenly, and shaky. I’m having some sort of anxiety attack, obviously.
Not a moment later, Guy comes in and brings me a bottle of water and a small platter of fruit, nuts, olives, and cheese.