Page 4 of Dirty Beasts: Chance

He snorts. “Yeah, of course.” He gestures at the hallway with the doors on either side. “End of that hall is stairs up to the parking lot, side of the club. “You want to leave, leave. Make sure the door closes behind you. Call a cab, get a Lyft or an Uber. Whatever.”

I eye him. “Why are you helping me?”

He blinks at me. I can almost see him chewing on what to say. “Lotta reasons.”

“Give me one.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Didn’t like how that little fucker was treating you.” He shakes his head again. “There’s more to that situation up there. I know it. More to you. To this.” He gestures between himself and me. “For now, I gotta go back to work.” He turns and heads back the way we came.

“Chance,” I call.

He pauses at the door. “Yeah.”

“This, meaning me and you?”

He gives me a grin, then. A real, full smile. And god almighty, it transforms his features—the hardness dissolves, the blank mask fades, and I see humor in him, mischief, something wild, something intense. “Yeah, mama. Like you and me.”

I frown. “I don’t even know you.”

“Gotta start somewhere.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” I shoot back.

He blinks slowly, that grin still in place. “You do.”

I glare at him. “You’re sure of that, huh?” I snark, eyebrow lifted. “With your telepathy and all?”

He just nods, as if my statement was not sarcastic. “Pretty much.” He steps through the doorway, then pops his head back out. “Annika?”

I lift a hand, palm up. “Haven’t gone anywhere in the last five seconds.”

“You’re safe here.” That quiet, gentle voice, those deep dark eyes, those fucking words—shit.

I blink hard and swallow harder. “Right. Thanks.”

“I mean it. Whatever the fuck is going on with you, it’s not here. You’re safe.”

“Heard you,” I repeat. “Thanks.”

He vanishes, and I slump—I’ve been holding myself tense, upright, not breathing. Not daring to.

Safe.

What a joke.

I wait, half expecting him to return. I wonder what he wants from me.

But hell, it’s obvious enough, isn’t it? He’ll keep me safe here…and I know damn well what he’ll expect in return.

I turn on the TV, find a nature documentary to watch as I sip my beer. I’m hungry, but now that I’m on the couch, the thought of getting up and fixing myself food sounds way too hard. So I don’t. I sit, I watch the doc, and I sip.

And, at some point, I find myself slumping sideways, fighting to keep my eyes open. I forget how long I’ve been awake—nearly twenty-four hours, by now.

I fall asleep.

* * *

I wake to subdued voices—peoplespeaking and moving around but attempting to be quiet about it.