Page 12 of Sinful Betrayal
“Can you blame me for wanting to silence these fucking idiots? Get a few drinks and they think they can take me.”
“You want a fucking medal or something? It’s not an even match, Reid.”
Reid shrugs his enormous shoulders, his eyes constantly scanning the line for any sign of trouble.
“It never is. What’re you doing out here, anyway?”
“Did you see a dark-haired girl in a purple skirt?”
Reid’s mouth twitches as he glances at me.
“Sure did.” He chuckles. “Nice pair of legs on her.”
“That’s not what I asked,” I snap which causes another laugh to spill from Reid’s mouth.
I’m surprised by my sudden possessiveness toward Nina. It’s something that I can’t afford to succumb to, especially since I don’t do relationships. I wish I did, but I just can’t commit the time, not when my mother takes up so much of it these days.
Perhaps that’s what subconsciously drew me to Nina. It’s clear that dancing is her first priority, and she made a point of how busy her schedule is, as if to let me know that she’s only looking for some fun.
I just didn’t expect thefunto take me on a cat and mouse chase through New York.
“Did she get into a cab already?” I glance around the busy street.
It’s almost eleven on a Thursday, but for most, the night has barely started.
I can’t see any sign of Nina, which is putting me on edge.
“Nah, she wondered around that way.” Reid points to the right.
“What?” My stomach sinks.
“She disappeared around the corner. Not the safest decision on her part if you ask me. If I had known she was a friend of yours, I would’ve made sure she got into a cab. Sorry, Anton,” Reid grunts, but I wave him off.
“Let me know if she comes back.” I take off down the street.
I dodge in and out of drunken pedestrians until I reach the end of the street and turn right.
Espionagemight be situated in the heart of Manhattan’s Upper West Side, but that doesn’t mean that Nina will be safe to walk home alone in the dark. If anything, the richer the guys, the more entitled they think they are to a woman’s attention.
More bars line each side of the street, each one packed with drunk customers.
I scan the side alleys where the trash is thrown out, looking for any sign of Nina, but I seem to be coming up short.
“Shit.” I run my fingers through my hair.
I’m about to pull my phone out of my pocket to call Rurik, one of my PIs, to get a hold of Nina’s address when a gut-wrenching scream rings in my ears.
From the way my stomach sinks, I know it’s Nina.
Without thinking, I take off at a sprint, following the sound of her screams to one of the side alleys. What I find almost has the four scotches I drank earlier threatening to make an appearance.
She’s pressed up against the brick wall, a knife digging into the soft skin of her throat as the guy fights to get his hand beneath her sweater. Another stands nearby like a fucking watchdog.
“Shut the fuck up!” he growls as she goes to scream again.
I stay close to the wall, my body hidden by the shadows as I try to assess which one to take out first.
I don’t want to pull out my gun and risk drawing any unwanted attention. It would be more of a headache to clean up the aftermath if we were caught opening fire than if I just knock them out using my bare hands.