Page 16 of Burn the World Down

But a little voice sang to me that maybe it was fate.

It didn’t matter. Whatever happened, if I had to take down Dean Snyder myself, I would. Hopefully in time to save Shandy, and any others he was grooming.

I caught the attention of a nearby server.

“What can I get you?” the woman asked, a friendly smile on her face.

“I’m looking for a friend.” I pulled the folded piece of paper out of my pocket. I’d stopped at a 24-hour printing place and printed out a copy of the photo. “I was told he comes here. Have you seen him?”

She glanced at the picture, her brow creasing. “He doesn’t look familiar, honey. Sorry.”

I nodded my thanks.

I checked the bar and got more head shakes. Dammit. This was turning into a wild-goose chase.

Spotting another server heading my way, I shot him my best smile. “Hi.”

He smiled back, balancing a loaded tray of drinks like a pro. “Hi. You want to order something?”

“Not right now. I’m looking for my friend. Another friend said he’d been in here.” I held up the picture.

The man’s face stayed neutral, but I saw a flicker in his eyes. “Nope. Sorry. He looks like a hundred other guys who pass through here.”

I stepped closer. “You know him.”

The man’s eyes widened. “I don’t.”

I grabbed his arm. “Please?—”

He wrenched out of my hold. “I can’t help you.” He turned and hurried away.

Nash. Nash was here.

Or he had been.

“Sweet cheeks, I can be your friend.”

I spun around. A guy wearing a baggy suit, in his late thirties or maybe early forties, was standing too close to me. He was holding a glass of whiskey, and he shot me a smile he probably thought was sexy. His face was flushed. This clearly wasn’t his first glass.

“No, thanks.” I turned.

An arm snaked around my middle. I stiffened, fighting the pain as he put pressure on my sore ribs.

“Let me go,” I said through gritted teeth.

Hot breath brushed my ear and I smelled alcohol fumes.

“Sweetness, we can havesomuch fun together.”

Anger speared up like a geyser. This guy thought he could ignore what I wanted, touch me without permission. I was fucking sick of assholes who thought they could just do whatever the hell they wanted to women.

I stomped my sharp heel down on the top of his foot. He cursed and bobbled his drink, spilling it over his hand. His arm loosened.

Spinning, I grabbed his other arm and twisted it up behind his back.

“Ow.Ow. Bitch.”

“Oh, it’s bitch now, not sweet cheeks?” I landed a hard shot to his ribs, and he sucked in a breath.