Page 4 of Never Sleep with the Enemy

“Right,” Addison says. “We were just…” She trails off, her voice softening. “Kat, are you okay? Honey, what’s wrong?”

I keep my head down. “Nothing. I have to go.”

She calls after me, but I don’t stop. I push forward, shove through the stairwell doors.

“Jo, what happened?” she asks as the door swings shut behind me.

Go on, Jonah.

Tell them what happened.

Tell them how you and Knox and Bronson saved me.

How you spirited me away in the dead of night.

How you held me. Promised me I was safe.

How you kissed me.

My first and most important kiss.

I run down the stairs. Flight after flight, a seemingly endless tower in the Las Vegas sky. Golden lights blur in my vision, streaking like comets as I burst into the hotel lobby. I don’t stop running. Not until my lungs burn and the cool October air rushes into my chest.

Oof!

I hit the sidewalk. Hard.

The impact rattles through me, knocks the wind from my lungs.

I ran into something.

Someone.

“Hey, are you okay?”

A voice, warm and edged with concern, floats down to me.

Flat on my back, I squint up at the city lights, then at the blurry visage hovering above me. Red lips. Blonde hair, long and curly, framing a sharp but striking face. Gold. Golden locks. Goldilocks.

Goldie Locke.

Drummer from…

The Electrics.

Oh, shit.

She grins in recognition. “Hey, boss!” she calls over her shoulder. “Come check this out.”

Alarm bells clamor in my head, but my limbs are slow, sluggish. No chance of getting up before?—

Another figure moves into view. Tall, lean. Sharp cheekbones. A flash of black eyeliner, a streak of yellow face paint shaped like?—

A lightning bolt.

Oh, no.

Logan Shock.

---