Page 8 of Deeper

Right then, I wanted to strike him again. There was a gleam in his eye, seeming to dare me to respond.

“Get in the car, Bianka,” Zander repeated.

He was so demanding, and as if he’d physically pushed me to do so, I turned and opened the back door. The black leather interior with the yellow trim was bold and majestic. A bumblebee came to mind as I climbed into the back, noticing that Zander was right behind me. Dax went around and entered from the other side. I was in the middle.

The ceiling took me by surprise. It was starlit, some sort of magical fabric that made it seem as if I were staring up at the night sky.

Whoa.

Terry got in up front in the passenger seat beside the driver.

At once I was engulfed in the scent of new car smell and pure testosterone. There was only so much space in the back seat. Dax had his legs together considerably, while Zander was sitting back manspreading, the material of his dark jeans brushing against my bare thigh. I was too aware of him.

Before I could let myself slip into anxiety at being surrounded by nothing but strange men, the Cullinan began rolling. We took off for the front of The Warehouse. Up ahead, the flashing red and blue lights along with the cacophony of sirens had everyone sitting up.

Terry chuckled, his bulky shoulders shaking. “Pay up, Dax, I told ya they’d flip.”

Dax clicked his tongue, keeping his eyes out the window as we came to the end of the alley. “Whatever.”

Four squad cars had shown up and people were rushing into the street to get to parking, or down the street either way to escape. A couple of women were in handcuffs, struggling to get free, and in the middle of the madness was the manager of the venue. He was speaking to a cop, a defeated expression on his face.

Nowhere in the chaos could I see Victoria.

“Where did you park?” Zander asked, unconsciously placing his hand on my knee as I reached for the door.

“I took an Uber with my friend, but I don’t see her,” I said.

I tried to climb over his lap, but Zander’s arm shot up, forming a barricade. “It’s crazy out there.”

“So…?”

He looked at me quizzically. “Just call her first before you attempt to go out in that mess. We don’t need you getting trampled.”

I gathered my phone I suddenly realized I’d been clutching for a good ten minutes. I pressed the side button, but nothing happened. I pressed it again.

My fucking phone was dead. “It died.”

Zander snickered, suppressing the urge to reprimand me. I could tell.

Again, I resisted the impulse to slap him.

“Does anyone have a charger?” I asked the entire car as I pushed Zander’s hand away from my skin.

My question was met with silence. Of course.

“Can I borrow someone’s phone?” I asked next.

Again, more silence.

“Well, let me out the car then,” I snapped.

Zander sat up, leaning towards the driver. “Olson—”

The car lurched forward and Zander flew back in his seat, his arm once more coming across my chest protectively, as I wasn’t wearing my seat belt.

“What the fuck?” Zander demanded to know.

Olson drove up the street, his eyes flickering towards the rearview mirror at the scene we were escaping. “I just didn’t think you wanted to be spotted.”

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