A Perfect Storm
Page 63
Arizona rolled her eyes. “That was overkill, you big show-off.”
Quin stood there, agog.
Joel asked, “Who are you people?”
Dead serious, as if she’d totally misunderstood his question, Arizona said, “I’m Candy, remember? You drew my picture. Twice.”
Damn. Spencer knew he had to get her out of there and fast, before anyone else got curious. “She’s drunk. I’ll see that she gets home.”
Quin nodded and slipped away. When Arizona started to follow, Spencer caught the back of her shirt and drew her up short.
She windmilled her arms until Spencer steadied her.
“I can get her out,” Joel said while clutching his art supplies to his chest. His face was white, his expression panicked.
“She’ll be safer with me.” Spencer scouted the quickest way out. He’d prefer to just haul Arizona away. He didn’t see the bartender or Carl, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching, so he still had to play the game.
“Candy…” Joel looked at her with worry.
“What’s that?” Arizona cocked her head. “Do I hear the cops?”
Going on the alert, Joel said, “I don’t hear anything.”
“Sirens,” Spencer said, playing along. He eyed Joel. “Anyone who doesn’t want to be picked up in this scuffle ought to hightail it out of here.”
“Thank you for the drawings.” Arizona took Joel’s hand. “I really, really love them.”
With bodies flying around them, Joel asked, “Will I see you again?”
“Sure you will. I got hired, so I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Oh, right.” Joel started to relax. “Okay, then…”
The music suddenly died—and then Spencer really did hear sirens. Arizona’s eyes widened as she turned her face up to his. “Seriously?”
“Afraid so.” He watched as Joel darted toward the back and through a side door. Spencer hoped the guy would be okay, but Arizona was his first priority.
Near her ear, he said, “In case anyone is watching, we have to separate. But I’ll be right behind you.”
Her hand knotted in the shoulder of his shirt, keeping him close. “What about the workers? What about the waiter, Quin?”
He smelled the whiskey on her breath, felt the warmth of her, her strength and energy. “Forget it.”
“I can’t just leave without knowing if they’re okay.”
Was she kidding? “That waiter already split, remember? Joel is probably following him. But we can’t help anyone if we get killed tonight,” Spencer reasoned. “Now make your way to the front door. Don’t engage with anyone else. Talk to no one. You got me?”
“Yup.” She smiled at him, but the bruise at the corner of her mouth lessened the effect.
Damn. “You’re drunk,” he accused.
“Yup.”
God, give me strength… “Too drunk to make your way to the front door?”
She shook her head and staggered because of it. “Nope.” After smoothing out the material of his shirt, she gave him a wink and tottered off, clubbing everyone who got in her way.
Bemused, chagrined and worried, Spencer watched her go. With each flash of the lights, she progressed another foot. Almost to the door.
Almost to safety.
She left him frustrated and, damn it…admiring. Arizona let no one and nothing get in the way of her determination. She had more backbone than was healthy.
Things were coming to a head between them. In such a short time her entire perspective had changed. That had been his goal, but now, met with her innocent interest, his own reaction surprised him.
Altruism flew the coop. What he did with Arizona and why had little to do with saving her from herself and a lot to do with the incredible chemistry between them.
He wanted her, and not having her was eating him up.
Refocusing his thoughts, Spencer saw Arizona clear the front door. Far enough, he decided. He started to follow her—and suddenly the lights went out, leaving everything still, shrouded in ominous darkness.
* * *
PANIC HAMMERED against his brain, making his temples throb, his eyes burn. The little bitch wouldn’t get away; he wouldn’t let that happen. But with so much going on, all the noise and confusion, how could he stop her? Surreptitiously, he looked around, seeking a plan.
He could take her himself. Sure, she had some skill, but she was still just a woman, with a woman’s frailty, a woman’s tender emotions.
A woman’s vulnerability.
Once she’d lost her shine and, therefore, some of the profit to be made off her, he’d hoped to have her for himself. She’d be broken then, more easily manageable.
Wonderfully needy.
But thanks to the fools surrounding him, that opportunity no longer existed.
He had to act, now, or forever lose her.
And then it came to him, exactly what he would do, who he would send after her. He’d stay safe, but she would become his.
Oh, yes, a perfect plan. He laughed, knowing it would all work out.
* * *
INHALING THE MUGGY NIGHT AIR did nothing to help clear Arizona’s head. In case anyone watched them, she made a point of not waiting for Spencer, of not looking back to see if he followed closely.
Plenty of people milled around out front, and the occasional car drove past. Somewhere out there, Dare kept watch. Spencer would soon follow.
She hadn’t accomplished her goal, but they’d made headway. For now, that’d have to be enough.
Quin stood there, agog.
Joel asked, “Who are you people?”
Dead serious, as if she’d totally misunderstood his question, Arizona said, “I’m Candy, remember? You drew my picture. Twice.”
Damn. Spencer knew he had to get her out of there and fast, before anyone else got curious. “She’s drunk. I’ll see that she gets home.”
Quin nodded and slipped away. When Arizona started to follow, Spencer caught the back of her shirt and drew her up short.
She windmilled her arms until Spencer steadied her.
“I can get her out,” Joel said while clutching his art supplies to his chest. His face was white, his expression panicked.
“She’ll be safer with me.” Spencer scouted the quickest way out. He’d prefer to just haul Arizona away. He didn’t see the bartender or Carl, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching, so he still had to play the game.
“Candy…” Joel looked at her with worry.
“What’s that?” Arizona cocked her head. “Do I hear the cops?”
Going on the alert, Joel said, “I don’t hear anything.”
“Sirens,” Spencer said, playing along. He eyed Joel. “Anyone who doesn’t want to be picked up in this scuffle ought to hightail it out of here.”
“Thank you for the drawings.” Arizona took Joel’s hand. “I really, really love them.”
With bodies flying around them, Joel asked, “Will I see you again?”
“Sure you will. I got hired, so I’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Oh, right.” Joel started to relax. “Okay, then…”
The music suddenly died—and then Spencer really did hear sirens. Arizona’s eyes widened as she turned her face up to his. “Seriously?”
“Afraid so.” He watched as Joel darted toward the back and through a side door. Spencer hoped the guy would be okay, but Arizona was his first priority.
Near her ear, he said, “In case anyone is watching, we have to separate. But I’ll be right behind you.”
Her hand knotted in the shoulder of his shirt, keeping him close. “What about the workers? What about the waiter, Quin?”
He smelled the whiskey on her breath, felt the warmth of her, her strength and energy. “Forget it.”
“I can’t just leave without knowing if they’re okay.”
Was she kidding? “That waiter already split, remember? Joel is probably following him. But we can’t help anyone if we get killed tonight,” Spencer reasoned. “Now make your way to the front door. Don’t engage with anyone else. Talk to no one. You got me?”
“Yup.” She smiled at him, but the bruise at the corner of her mouth lessened the effect.
Damn. “You’re drunk,” he accused.
“Yup.”
God, give me strength… “Too drunk to make your way to the front door?”
She shook her head and staggered because of it. “Nope.” After smoothing out the material of his shirt, she gave him a wink and tottered off, clubbing everyone who got in her way.
Bemused, chagrined and worried, Spencer watched her go. With each flash of the lights, she progressed another foot. Almost to the door.
Almost to safety.
She left him frustrated and, damn it…admiring. Arizona let no one and nothing get in the way of her determination. She had more backbone than was healthy.
Things were coming to a head between them. In such a short time her entire perspective had changed. That had been his goal, but now, met with her innocent interest, his own reaction surprised him.
Altruism flew the coop. What he did with Arizona and why had little to do with saving her from herself and a lot to do with the incredible chemistry between them.
He wanted her, and not having her was eating him up.
Refocusing his thoughts, Spencer saw Arizona clear the front door. Far enough, he decided. He started to follow her—and suddenly the lights went out, leaving everything still, shrouded in ominous darkness.
* * *
PANIC HAMMERED against his brain, making his temples throb, his eyes burn. The little bitch wouldn’t get away; he wouldn’t let that happen. But with so much going on, all the noise and confusion, how could he stop her? Surreptitiously, he looked around, seeking a plan.
He could take her himself. Sure, she had some skill, but she was still just a woman, with a woman’s frailty, a woman’s tender emotions.
A woman’s vulnerability.
Once she’d lost her shine and, therefore, some of the profit to be made off her, he’d hoped to have her for himself. She’d be broken then, more easily manageable.
Wonderfully needy.
But thanks to the fools surrounding him, that opportunity no longer existed.
He had to act, now, or forever lose her.
And then it came to him, exactly what he would do, who he would send after her. He’d stay safe, but she would become his.
Oh, yes, a perfect plan. He laughed, knowing it would all work out.
* * *
INHALING THE MUGGY NIGHT AIR did nothing to help clear Arizona’s head. In case anyone watched them, she made a point of not waiting for Spencer, of not looking back to see if he followed closely.
Plenty of people milled around out front, and the occasional car drove past. Somewhere out there, Dare kept watch. Spencer would soon follow.
She hadn’t accomplished her goal, but they’d made headway. For now, that’d have to be enough.
