“About that.” I rubbed my scraped arm. “You couldn’t find a less dramatic way to get Robin out of that workshop?”
“Not as quick and easy.” Harry would never admit he liked startling people, but he sure did. “And it’s ‘Robin’ now? What happened to ‘Mr. Forrest?’”
“I fucked him.” Or he fucked me, which was none of Harry’s business. “Anyway, he said he wouldn’t be there tonight. We’ll give him a couple of hours to finish closing and leave, and then we’ll head back.”
“You might have a shower first,” Harry suggested. “Look respectable in case the cops stop by.”
“Let’s hope they don’t.” I doubted there was more than one security system. If I had the alarm code, we should be safe. But a shower sounded like heaven anyway.
Chapter 3
Robin
I had no idea what’d brought me back to the Three Rs at eight o’clock at night. Something kept niggling at me, tugging me toward work, and then as I was sitting down to chat about wood stains with my online friends, that tug became an alarm call.
Except the actual alarm notice on my smart watch said everything was quiet.
Which didn’t keep me from ducking out of the chat, jumping in my car, and breaking the speed limit to get back to work.
The warehouse sat there, looking ordinary. Nothing out of place as I pulled into the front lot and parked. Before opening the front door, I decided to walk around the perimeter. And there— “Shit!”
The loading bay door stood open, a gaping mouth inviting me to the dark interior gullet of the slumbering beast. I shook off the creepy fancy. “Why the fuck didn’t the alarm go off?” I was aboutto call 9-1-1 when a car pulled into the employee lot. The sedan stopped in a back corner under the trees and its lights went out.
I moved deeper into the shadows against the wall, watching, holding my breath.
To my shock, Alaric scrambled out with a small furry dog at his heels. In the still night air, I heard Alaric mutter, “Shit. Someone got here first.”
A high voice from somewhere asked, “One of ours, you think?”
Alaric snapped, “Not a good one, if so.” He sprinted toward the back door, stooped to fumble on the ground for a moment, then slid a key into the lock. The door opened at his touch, but the alarm didn’t sound, never even chimed on my smartwatch. He pulled the door shut behind him and vanished out of sight.
What the hell? I should call the cops!
Common sense said report Alaric and whoever had broken in ahead of him. But the whole thing was weird as hell, and curiosity had always been my biggest sin. I couldn’t manage to be afraid of the man who’d knelt and let me face-fuck him. So I followed, opening the unlocked door and closing it silently behind me. The alarm panel on the wall sat dark and dead. The smell of fried electronics filled the air. Apparently, whoever had come through the loading door had somehow shorted out the whole system without setting it off.
I couldn’t hear Alaric’s footsteps, but I could make out the bobbing gleam of a small greenish flashlight ahead. My knowledge of the store’s layout served me well as I followed him in near darkness.
He and his dog headed straight for my workshop. An instinctive part of me wasn’t surprised, had been drawn that way myself. Although the pull to come here had eased, and now something wanted me to leave.Leave.Immediately and go…somewhere. I ignored that impulse.
What the fuck is Alaric doing?
The glow of his odd flashlight moved through the workshop doorway. I hurried as quietly as I could to catch up.
As I reached the doorway, that high voice said, “Look out! Incoming.”
Alaric extinguished his light.
But I was supposed to be there, it was my space, and I had no fear of the cops. I hit the light switch by the door.
In the harsh glare of the fluorescent fixtures, Alaric stood frozen, five feet away. At his feet, a small— not dog, but rat!— sat on its haunches, peering at me.
I yelped, “Fuck!” instead of the questions crowding my brain.
Alaric said, “Hardly the time. What are you doing here?”
“This ismystore. Why areyouhere?” Before he could answer, I saw that the antique cabinet was missing. In the open space where it had stood was a small paper bag. “And what’s that?”
I hurried over to grab the bag, but before I could close my hand on the paper, Alaric tackled me to the floor. We landed hard, his shoulder in my ribs, ejecting the breath from my chest. I gasped like a dying fish, suddenly aware that he was fifty pounds heavier and much stronger. “Get off,” I choked, struggling to get away. “Let go!”
