He turns quickly toward Mrs. Barton, and is even smiling at Prune Face. “Things might run long. You probably shouldn’t expect me until after morning. Don’t go anywhere with the children. I want them in the room until I get back.”
Oh, he’s definitely avoiding eye contract with me. Ding. He checks his phone. I catch a not completely contained smile.
He clicks off the phone and moves to the door.
He opens it and I see his security team waiting in the hallway. “No fighting. No calling. No texting. Nothing. I don’t want to hear from any of you unless it’s a real emergency.”
Oh God, he’s never said that before.
He quickly disappears into the hallway.
Krystal stares at me. “That was weird.”
I fight to keep my emotions from my face, but weird doesn’t cut it. Very overt and very busted.
Fuck, that’s it.
If Mom finds out, next stop divorce court.
It’s suddenly very hard to breathe.
I spring from the table and head for the door.
“Where are you going?” snaps Mrs. Barton. “Back to the table for another half hour.”
Ignoring her, I continue into the hall only to be stopped by Graham.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Where are you going?” he asks, stepping in front of me so I can’t get to the elevators.
I stare up at him, frantic. “I just want to talk to my dad, OK? Can you call him back? Please?”
“I can’t call him back and I can’t let you go, Kaley. No one is to leave the room. Those are my instructions until tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, great.
Tomorrow, too late.
Tomorrow none of the good of the past three weeks will matter.
If Alan hurts Mom, I’ll never forgive him.
* * *
I lie on my bed, the hotel walls closing in around me. A handful of minutes and it feels like eternity. I’m never going to survive a full night of this torturous uncertainty. It’s like there is a heavy rock in my stomach, turning over and over, and I can’t stop it.
I’m so tired of hurting. So tired of the guilt. The collapse of my life is like a slow-moving film, frame and then pause, frame and then pause, and with each change a new misery.
Bobby dumping me.
Being dragged away from Mom to here.
And now the terrible certainty that I’m the one—after everything my parents have survived together—to end Chrissie and Alan after more than twenty years.
I just want to feel young and laugh, and not hurt and worry 24/7. Guilt is a terrible thing. The aftermath of hurting people you love is inescapable.
For one night, I want out of this smothering cage. I want to be eighteen and not give a shit about anything like the rest of the kids my age. A normal girl. With a normal life. Just for a little while.
I grab my bag, sneak from my bedroom and into Alan’s. I open the walk-in closet door and find the service exit against the back wall just like in every hotel penthouse on this tour.
Now I know why the fucking door is there.
I carefully ease it open and peek into the hallway. Nope, just as I thought, no one there. Alan’s gone, so security is not here.
I jog down the hall and step into the emergency exit stairwell, and after a dozen flights I cut through the lobby and out the front door.
Free. For the first time in nearly a month.
I blend into the people on the sidewalk and start hurrying down the street. I pass trendy restaurants and a few clubs, but then I spot one without a rope line and duck in there.
No cover. Not exactly an upscale place, but it will work and hopefully no one will think to look for me here.
The room is dark and full of strobing light, and I settle at the bar. When the bartender comes I order a bottle of tequila and a glass. When a guy sidles up on the stool next to me, I offer him a drink.
I want to get drunk.
I want to laugh and dance and flirt.
I want not to remember.
I want for one night to be only eighteen.
CHAPTER 27
An hour later, I’m full of tequila shots and whooping it up on the dance floor. The vibration from the music and the alcohol pumping through my veins makes me feel good for the first time since I left California. The small area beneath the DJ is hot, crowded, the lights are flashing, and the guy I’m dancing with definitely has moves. His body rubs against me and I melt into him.
His hands tighten on my waist, pulling my ass to brush against his cock as we bob with the beat. He kisses my neck.
I tense.
Too familiar.
I pull away from him without missing a step.
I open my eyes.
Oh shit.
Graham Carson is standing on the edge of the floor with his tree-trunk-sized arms crossed in front of his chest. How the hell did he find me? Delta Force training, no doubt. He looks pissed.
I wait until the song finishes. I tell my partner I have to go, and then cut through the people on the floor. I stop in front of my bodyguard. It’s so obvious what Graham is with his iron body neatly encased in all black. I can feel more than a few people staring at us.
I stare up at him. “Can’t you be cool for one night and let me have fun?”
He doesn’t even look at me, just continues to surveil the crowd. “Being cool is not part of my job, Kaley. Making sure nothing happens to you, that’s my job.”
I roll my eyes. Yep, he’s angry.
“How did you know where I was?” I ask, frustrated.
His eyes bore into me. “Bin Laden was hard to find. You’re easy. Predictable. Nearest place you’re not allowed to be where you can do something that you shouldn’t. This club is four blocks from the hotel. I don’t take you for a long walk kind of girl. But you’re smart. You skipped the car service and the taxis thinking that would slow me down on finding you. No trail. Nice touch.”
I flush.
“I just want one evening without you guys making me feel like a total freak show. One night alone. I’m only dancing. Can’t you cut out and pretend you didn’t find me? I won’t tell anyone.”
His gaze shifts to me. “A girl like you shouldn’t be hanging around in clubs filled with assholes like this. Boy, your instincts suck. This is not a place for you to be, Kaley. No, I can’t pretend I didn’t find you. Your dad would kick my ass if I left you here.”
My temper flares.
“Oh. A girl like me? What the fuck does that mean?”
His expression changes. It smothers my anger.
“A beautiful, intelligent, talented girl with a rich father and every opportunity in life. You shouldn’t be risking all that to hang around with low-life players like these. They’ll only use you. Hurt you. Take advantage of you. You deserve better. Don’t forget that.”
I take my lower lip between my teeth. That was really sweet.
“Do you want to dance since you’re here? Or is dancing not Delta Force sanctioned?”
“Not sanctioned,” he says.
I make a face.
That was a little funny.
He could have given me a laugh.
I try again. “Have one shot of tequila and I’ll go willingly.”
He gives me a pained look. “The only thing we’re doing is going back to the hotel.”
I exhale. I wish he’d just lighten up. We’re in Australia. How dangerous can that be?
“Nope. Not leaving without having a shot with you. Consider that an order, solider.”
Nothing.
And why is his gaze shifting around the room that way?
“Hey, I just want to have fun for one night—” Something crashes in the club. All around me voices grow louder and people start running. I turn my head to find a glass shattered against the ground only inches from my feet.
“No bitch walks away from me,” I hear shouted from behind me.
I look over my shoulder.
Is that the guy I’ve been dancing with?
Oh fuck, is that a knife in his hand?
The way he is charging toward me fills me with panic.
I fling myself into Graham’s chest, wrapping my arms around him. I tense, waiting for my bodyguard to do something. Waiting. Waiting. Why the fuck hasn’t he sprung into action. He just stands there. Nothing. I hear loud voices. I turn my face. My hip-hop Casanova is five feet away arguing with another girl.