Thorne sat on a leather banquette, flanked
with a greasy hunger. He waved a hand
t withou
oot of distance between them. The music in the clu
, pouring a glass of amber liquid. "I
he glass in
igned a tremble. "I was s
eliberately jerked her hand. The alcohol
stood up, moving closer t
his hand sliding up her thigh
utch. Her fingers found the syrin
loser. Just until the needle c
door explo
attered. He was screaming something about a debt. Security guard
ting. "What is this?
posed. She shoved it back into the bag, her hear
he chao
Adams w
re life. The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. The se
to pale. "Mr. Adams. I... I
onto Francisca. She was pale, standing amidst
loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushe
d. "She's... s
ly. "With you? Miss Jennings
is voice dropped to a whisper
idden in her bag. If she used it now, she would
s a different kind of dange
sleeve. "Take
It was a terri
ight," Everet s
ed it. He wasn't stupid enough to
t felt like an iron bar. He guided her ou
er bag tight aga
levator. The doors slid shut, c
th his back to the wall, watching her. The t
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