Page 171 of Beautifully Ruined
I nod, and she tells me how to get to the locked control room.
“The guard won’t be there for five minutes,” Macy says. “They’re changing over, and Miguel will keep the next guard occupied a little longer. So go.”
She shoos me off and I go, hurrying as fast as I can, past unmarked doors I don’t dare stop and try.
It’s weird there’s no one around, no other girls, but if I’m the only one being trained at this moment and the others Macy is here to train won’t arrive for a while, I guess that makes sense.
I don’t have time to speculate.
I don’twantto speculate.
The swipe card works when I reach the control room, and the door opens.
I look around. There are images of most of the rooms in here on a big screen, and I just glance, but I only see guards, a few girls who aren’t having sex like I feared. And some rooms that are suites and what look like waiting rooms.
I put my coat and phone down and set about connecting the USB to the main computer system.
And it clicks into place, a small light on it flickering from under the table when I peek.
Pleased with myself, I call Cade.
“Where the fuck are you?” he bites out, making me shiver, the first good shiver I’ve had since stepping into the club earlier.
“I love you, too. I’m in the training center?—”
“Get the fuck out, Vi. Goddamn it, you’re in danger. I’m going to give you a beating.”
“You can try.”
He gives a bitter laugh. “Not one you’ll like?—”
“It’s done. Check. It’s done. You can thank me later with all the orgasms,” I say, trying to flirt.
“Get the fuck out, Vi. You went and did this behind my back, and now I need to clean up after you.”
“Clean up what? The fact I did what needed to be done?”
“Vi—”
“Besides, I’m in now, and arguing about it is just wasting time.”
“Go back to whatever the fuck you’re supposed to be doing and leave the rest to me. Now. I’ll deal with you later.”
“You—”
“Enzo and I’ll be there as soon as possible?—”
I hang up.
For god’s sake, he’s an overprotective heathen, that’s what he is. No, thanks, nothing at all but anger and empty threats because he’d never in a million years lay a hand on me to hurt me.
He should be thanking me.
I start to turn. he should?—
All thoughts go dead as I come face to face with Joseph Walsh.
A beat passes.
