Page 68 of What He Wants

“What are your plans tonight?” I asked grinning.

She shrugged. “Clay has to work at one of the clubs so I thought I’d go home. Haven’t been there for a few days and I’m sure my plants need watering. Clay’s going to come over after his shift.”

“Why don’t you come up for dinner before you go? I could make a quick pasta dish.” I hadn’t been upstairs since the day before but I was sure I had the ingredients to make salad and a small lasagna.

“Thought you had to get back to the club after we close?” Jasmine reminded me what I’d told her earlier, before Big John’s text.

“I think the idea is for me not to be alone. I’m sure if I head there after we eat it’ll be fine. Plus, I have the alarm now, we can activate it after we lock up for the day.”

“Okay. You know I love your pasta.”

“Let’s finish up and head upstairs.”

We worked in silence, doing the end of the day cleaning so that the salon would be ready for our first customer in the morning. Thelma and Cora Waterstone was our first customer in the morning and they could be counted on arriving at exactly eight o’clock. Thelma always looked the place over with a critical eye, too, and wasn’t shy about voicing a complaint when she saw a full trash can or dirt in the corner. I humored her. The woman was ninety years old, lived with her seventy-year-old daughter, and they were both so pathetically lonely that I felt sorry for them.

After about fifteen minutes we ceased what we were doing and gave each other a look. “We done?” Jasmine asked with a smile.

I looked around the place. Thankfully Betty and Jackie had cleaned their stations as usual before they’d left. “Think so.” I glanced up at the clock, it was ten till five. “Close enough.” I went to the door and was about to lock it when I noticed a truck parked next to Jasmine’s car. I recognized one of the bikers from the club, but couldn’t recall his name. I opened the door and he rolled down the window on his passenger side at the same time. “Can I help you with something?”

“No, ma’am. Just waiting to escort you to the clubhouse.”

Really? I shook my head realizing he’d been assigned to protect me. “I’m afraid you’re going to have a little wait. Jasmine and I are going to eat dinner before we leave. Would you like to come in and join us?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I was told to sit here until you leave.”

His stubbornness made me smile. I closed the door and was about to lock it when I decided against it in case he had to come inside or changed his mind about dinner.

“What about the alarm?” Jasmine asked when I passed the keypad next to the door.

“There’s a biker sitting guard duty right outside,” I explained, walking her way. “Come on, you can make the salad while I make the lasagna.”

“Oh, I love your lasagna.”

We made our way upstairs and into my apartment. As was her habit Jasmine slipped off her shoes right inside the door and left them on the small carpet there. I’d told her that it wasn’t necessary but she’d said it was out of habit because her carpets were white, so I stopped arguing with her. I continued toward the kitchen.

“Ouch! Damn it!”

I swung back to Jasmine. She was hopping around on one foot and was pulling the other one up to examine it.

“I stepped on something,” she complained, looking closely at her injured foot. “Damn that hurt.”

I automatically looked down at the floor to see what it might have been. There was something there. I narrowed my eyes and studied it for a second, my blood turning cold when I realized what it was. Half of a pistachio shell was lying on the floor. I froze with fear at what that meant. I didn’t eat pistachios, but Paul did, and he had a habit of carrying around a handful in his pocket for whenever he wanted one.

“What’s wrong, honey?” My stricken expression must have alerted Jasmine that something was wrong. She laughed lightly. “I’m the one that hurt my foot.” My gaze finally rose to meet hers, and her smile disappeared instantly. “What is it?” She almost whispered the question, which revealed that she sensed something wasn’t right.

“Jasmine, get out!” She at least had a chance because she was still close to the door. I knew it was too late for me. Paul was already stepping into the room from the left of us, slightly out of Jasmine’s sight. “Run!” I screamed with panic.

She didn’t question me, or hesitate, turning to open the door we’d just closed. But that was as far as she got. Paul was on her in an instant, yanking her back by the back of her collar and then slamming and locking the door. In the same movement, he brought Jasmine forward and slammed her head into the door, knocking her out.

“Jasmine!” I cried out with fear, watching as Paul release her to drop to the floor. I rushed to where she’d fallen, my fear for her condition outweighing any fear for Paul’s unexpected appearance. “Jasmine!” I pulled her over onto her back.

An evil laugh, followed by a hand twisting in my hair and yanking my head up, brought my tearful gaze to his.

“Hello, darling.”

“Please don’t hurt her,” I begged, bringing a hand up to lessen the pressure of his hurtful hold.

“Then do as I say and she might live,” he said in a cold voice. “But you, well, I’m afraid your fucking that biker scum out in broad daylight sealed your fate.”