Page 34 of Healing Conviction
Drake’s firm whisper brightened her vision, pulling her back from the brink of insanity. Her movements slowed, and she swallowed down her heaving breaths to concentrate on her questions. Outrage boiled underneath the surface, but she reined it in as she lowered the knife. “A-a-and how long has she, um… how long has she worked here?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, six months, maybe, but she should’ve been fired after the second week. She should be grateful our bleedin’ heart pansy manager lets her keep her job even though she never shows up. And when she does, she’s higher than a fuckin’ kite.”
Six months. She went to the party two years ago. What the heck happened in between?
“What hotel room?” she asked.
“N-not sure. I think she’s in 1F.”
Her breaths began to slow to a more normal pace. The air conditioner kicked on, cooling her flaming-hot skin. She took another steadying breath before asking her next question. “Anything else you think we should know?”
Joey gritted his teeth. “No. I hardly got nothin’ to do with that bitch.”
Nora gave him a tight smile. “Well, aren’t you a charmer?”
She closed Drake’s knife before tucking it back into his pocket. Keeping her eyes on Joey and the knife on his neck, she slipped her hands under the back of Drake’s shirt, feeling his holster.
His voice rumbled through his skin. “Pix?”
“Don’t worry, just getting some backup. Ah…” Her hand grazed over the metal handle she was looking for. “Hah! There it is. It’s loaded, right, handsome?”
He grunted in response and she unholstered his Glock. Without taking her eyes off their newest friend, she took the safety off and pointed it at Joey around Drake’s arm.
“Now, where’s the security camera box, my friend?”
Sweat dripped over his brow, making his wide eyes blink as they stared at the barrel. “U-under the cash register.”
She nodded once. “Excellent. See, if we’d had this kind of communication before, all of this could’ve been avoided.” Drake released his backward grip on her, and she stepped around him to the opening in the counter. She dipped under it, quickly retraining the gun on Joey as she took the few steps to the cash register and found the camera box in plain sight. Instead of searching its storage, she unhooked all the wires, settling for taking the entire thing with her.
When she was ready, she returned to Drake’s side, gun still pointed at Joey. “We’re gonna leave now. And if your info is good… we’re never gonna see each other again, alright?”
His lips tightened. “Fuckin’ fine by me.”
“Very good. You have such a way with words.” Careful not to use his real name, her voice lilted in question at the end of his nickname. “Hey, handsome? Ready to skedaddle?” Drake grunted and pulled the knife away slowly. She continued to walk backward toward the entrance, keeping her eyes on Joey. “We’re gonna leave, and this is gonna all be behind us, alright? No one has to turn anyone in. No one has to get hu—”
She yelped at the crashing sound that sent Joey collapsing to the ground. “Dude!” Her eyes bounced from the unconscious man on the floor to the Viking maniac with a bloody napkin dispenser in his hand. “I guess we’re taking the napkin dispenser too, since you touched it. Is he okay?”
“He’s alive.” He snatched the gun and holstered it before taking the security box from her. In the next second, he bundled up the box, the dispenser, and the knife, carrying it all with one arm before following her out.
“Ah, touché, my dear—Hey!” Drake wrapped his arm around her waist and the world was suddenly upside down. “Hey, hey, hey, what’re youdoing?! Unhand me, you Neanderthal!”
She had a nice view of his behind, but he wascarryingher over his shoulder on the way to the truck. His ass was in easy striking distance so while she held on to a back pocket for dear life, she slapped the other in between low hisses so they wouldn’t cause too much attention.
“What. Are. You. Do. Ing. Put. Me. Down!”
A loud thunk told her he’d tossed the items into the back of the truck. Another click sounded like he’d opened the truck door but she was still hanging on by a pocket.
“Let. Me. Dow—”
Smack.
“Ow! Son of a biscuit eat—”
Smack. Smack. Smack.
All of a sudden she was upright again, sitting with her stinging butt cheeks in the passenger seat and eye level with Drake. Fury swam in his ocean eyes as he grabbed her face with both hands.
“Thatis not the way we get information, Pix.”