And it definitely wasn’t the fact that she was so shaken by Drake’s kiss. No, not at all.
She followed him through the hallways that just seemed to lead from one bar or nook to another. The Dungeon didn’t seem like an appropriate name for this place. The Creepy, Really Loud Maze seemed like a better name to her.
The operative word being creepy. A cold shiver snaked up her spine, and she found herself looking behind her. She expected to see another patron—after all, it was a bar and club, but the hallway was empty.
Drake made another turn only to end up in another hallway. They passed another strange little alcove and again, Josie Lynn felt that weird shivery feeling at the back of her neck.
She looked behind her again just in time to see a flash of purple and red and black slip into the nook they’d just passed.
Obsidian.
Was she following them? The idea unnerved Josie Lynn. A lot. Marcus made it sound like the woman had a reputation for being more than a little strange. And they’d just considered the idea that she was nutty enough to drug a whole wedding party.
Josie Lynn touched Drake’s arm, and he immediately stopped.
“I think Obsidian just stepped into that alcove,” Josie Lynn said leaning close so he could hear her over the thundering industrial music. “I think she might be following us.”
“She is,” he said with full certainty.
“Did you see her, too?”
Drake shook his head, which suddenly turned to a nod. “Yeah, I did.”
Josie Lynn frowned. She hadn’t seen him looking back at any time. But maybe he had at the same time she did.
“What do we do?” she asked, truly disturbed by this weird chick.
“Ignore her. She’s no threat.”
She looked behind her again to be sure Obsidian wasn’t coming. “But Marcus made her sound pretty much like a wackadoo.”
Drake smiled. “She may be a wackadoo, but you are definitely safe with me. No worries.”
He took her hand and continued down the hallway. Josie Lynn glanced back over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure if she was really safe with Drake, but his strong hand around hers did make her feel better.
And once they were out of the tangle of shadowy hallways and back onto the crowded, garishly lit streets of the French Quarter, she decided she had a new appreciation for Bourbon Street. All the people made her feel safer. Although she had to admit, Drake was making her feel safe, too, and she definitely wasn’t willing to release his hand.
There was no way around it. Obsidian was weird.
“Now you understand why I was avoiding her. She’s not right,” Drake said as if he was reading Josie Lynn’s mind, and she had to admit she did understand why. She just wished she didn’t always react so strongly to his method of avoiding.
Damn, he was a good kisser.
And those thoughts, my friend, will get you neck deep into all sorts of trouble. Trouble with a naughty smile, an amazing kiss, a killer body, and sexual skills she was willing to bet would leave her a heap of cum-soaked Jell-O.
Okay, that image was kind of gross . . . but she suspected very accurate.
And one she had to forget about. But what other things could he do with that mouth?
“Are you okay?”
She frowned up at him, wondering if she’d actually said some of her thoughts aloud or something.
Oh dear God, please tell me I didn’t say that Jell-O thing aloud.
“You’re squeezing my hand,” he explained, clearly seeing she had no idea why he’d asked.
She instantly released his hand. “Yeah—yeah, I’m fine. I just wish we could figure out what happened last night.”
He looked down at his now-empty hand, then back at her as if he didn’t believe her, but he said nothing more, leading her across Bourbon to the other side of the street. They walked past a bar that she recognized as the one Marcus had mentioned they played at. Instead of walking into the bar door, he took a small side one.
“You live over the bar where you work?” she said as soon as they were in the somewhat quieter stairwell.
“Crazy, huh?” he said. “But I’m rarely late for work.”
They went up a rickety flight of stairs to a door covered in peeling red paint.
“Here’s hoping Cort is here.” He turned the doorknob and the door opened, but instead of looking relieved, he stared down at the knob.
“What’s wrong?” She tried to see what had him looking so concerned.
“The door was jimmied open.” He cautiously pushed the door open and poked his head inside. He remained still.
Listening, Josie Lynn guessed, although something about his utterly motionless stance seemed like he was doing something beyond listening. Sensing seemed like a better word, even though she knew that couldn’t really be what he was doing.
“The apartment is empty,” he said after a moment.
“How can you tell?” She hadn’t heard anything either, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t hiding inside. Hell, for all they knew, there were five Chers lying in wait. Truthfully, that didn’t sound too scary, but at this point Josie Lynn wasn’t trusting anyone.
“Well, I’m not totally sure,” Drake said, sounding almost . . . guilty like he’d been caught in a lie or something. Maybe he was just trying to sound certain to comfort her. “But I think it’s safe. I’ll go in first though.”
“I certainly hope so,” she said wryly. “It’s your apartment. I know I fought a gator for you, but this one is all yours.”
He smiled. “If there’s a gator in here, I’m deferring back to you. Sorry.”
She smiled, too. “Okay. Fair enough. But everything else is yours.”
“Deal.” Drake pushed open the door without hesitation and strolled in the door. The entrance led directly into a small but tidy kitchen. The lights were on and everything looked normal.
Again, Drake walked into the hallway without any signs of hesitation. He really did seem pretty confident the place was empty.
Brave? Or foolish? Josie Lynn couldn’t decide.
The hallway was flanked by a few sets of doors, three were closed and one was open and dark. The room at the end of the hallway, which Josie Lynn could already tell was the living room even from this distance, was lit as well.
Drake headed directly toward that room, not acknowledging the other doors as he passed them. Josie Lynn was no cop or detective. She wasn’t even that good at Clue, but she was pretty sure they should be checking every room just in case. She didn’t want to get it with the candlestick in the conservatory by Bob Mackie Cher.
“Aren’t you even going to check the other rooms?” she whispered.
Chapter Thirteen
BENNY AND CHER
LIZETTE severely resented the fact that men claimed women were complicated. They were the ones who changed their minds with no warning or logic and who seemed terrified of just speaking the truth.
Five minutes earlier Johnny had been slowly and skillfully kissing her, and sounding very sincere in saying that he liked her, and wanted her to stay with him for a few days. She had been flattered and intrigued by the idea of spending time with him, and so she’d said yes. Then his mood had immediately changed, and he had just about dragged her out of the apartment, insisting they get the cuffs cut off, with an urgency previously unseen. She had actually thought he’d been somewhat enjoying their enforced togetherness. But not so now.
He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and had practically begged to stop for a drink without any warning whatsoever. How could he go from purring contentment to skittish without any apparent trigger? It was a mystery to her, and she instantly lost a bit of the contented mood that she had been feeling. Was that what he had done? Changed his mind? Regretted his suggestion for her to stay with him?