Hidden in the crowd, I stood there like an idiot, trying like hell not to plow through the mass of bodies and carry her back to myowncar, and then back to my place, where we could talk,reallytalk. I'd tell her everything, starting from the beginning and ending with the fact that I couldn’t live without her.
If I had to, I'd beg. Shit, I'd already begged – not that it had done any good.
The crowd shifted, and I muttered a curse. I couldn’t see her. Not anymore.
Something like panic gnawed at my heart. Chloe shouldn't even be here, standing outside in that thin coat of hers and a skimpy uniform that covered nearly nothing. The night was freezing, and I knew firsthand that she'd had a hellish night.
She should be at home under the covers, or better yet, at my place –notat work, where even inside the restaurant, she'd be running around taking care of other people, instead of lettingmetake care ofher.
Still, I was insanely happy to see her here, because it told me something that I'd desperately needed to know.
She was okay.
Thank God.
Scanning the crowd, I pulled the dark hoodie lower over my face and tried like hell to blend. I wanted to see, but didn't want to be seen – not by Chloe, not yet, and not by anyone else who might recognize my face.
Yeah, right.
Wherever I went, almost everyone recognized me. As far as I was concerned, that wasn't a good thing. I turned and looked toward the restaurant. The place was packed. Against the long bank of front windows, I saw faces pressed against the glass, watching the spectacle in the parking lot.
I made a scoffing sound. If they thought this was a spectacle now, they'd be in for a real treat when the trunk was popped.
When I turned back toward the car, I saw something that made me pause. It was Chloe. But this time, she wasn't lost in the crowd. She was well above it, wobbling on the shoulders of the same shaggy-haired guy that she'd been talking to earlier.
Watching, I could hardly breathe. She was so damn close.
To him.
What the hell was she doing?
I stared across the crowd, feeling my muscles tense as I took in the scene. The guy was big, but soft and doughy. Chloe's thighs were wrapped around his naked neck, and his meaty hands were gripping her bare knees, holding her unsteadily as she looked out toward the sedan.
Innocent or not, I didn't like it.
I shifted, trying for a better look. Her crotchhadto be grinding against the back of his neck. Was that her skirt pressed up against it? Or her panties?
From that stupid-ass smile on his face, I didn't want to speculate.
That fucker.
I shoved the hoodie from my head, trying to get a better sense of what was going on. Did she know that guy? Shehadto. Either that, or she was getting way too friendly with a stranger. What the hell was she thinking?
I looked to Chloe's face, and suddenly, my anger evaporated. Her gaze was locked on the sedan. Her eyes were wide and filled with worry. She lifted a trembling hand and touched her throat. I knew why. She recognized the car. And, from the look in her eyes, she remembered the knife.
Real or not, it had left an impression.
The worry on her face brought everything back home – how scared she must've been and worse, how I'd made things a million times harder by freaking out afterward.
Freaking out – the phrase was too nice for what I'd done.
Desperately, I searched her face, looking for clues on how she was holding up. Was she really okay? With all that makeup, I couldn't be sure. I wanted to wipe it all way and see the face underneath – therealface, the face I loved, the face that haunted me, even now.
Something squeezed at my heart. What if after tonight, I never saw that face again?
No. I couldn't let that happen. Iwouldn'tlet that happen.
The Shaggy guy called up to her, saying something that I couldn’t make out. Chloe looked down and exchanged a few quick words with him, along with an older guy standing nearby. When she looked forward again, I spotted something in her hands that I hadn't noticed before – an unfamiliar cell phone.
