Page 12 of Empire

Dalton doesn’t take his eyes off me as he puts the Harley into gear, that cocky grin still lingering. He laughs and just like that, he hits the gas, taking off down the street like a bat out of hell, leaving me gasping for air.

The chokehold this man has on me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. He’s got me right where he wants me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Moving back to Faders Bay might have just been the most careless thing I’ve ever done. Though one thing is for sure, if I’m gonna get screwed, then I hope to God it’s by a man like Dalton Eros.

I spend the rest of my afternoon in a mess of thoughts, switching between the card and the dagger, Dalton Eros and the three fucktards who stalked me through the night. Without a doubt, I know those guys must have had something to do with breaking into my apartment. There’s no such thing as coincidences. At least, not to me. The likelihood that it was anyone else is slim to none, especially the night after they followed me to work and stalked me straight back home again.

They had something to do with this. They know what this card means, and I’m not going to stop until I get to the bottom of this.

By the time 6:30 p.m. rolls around, Cara is ready to go. We lock up the apartment and make a point of double-checking all the windows, but the locksmith assured us that no one would be able to break through these new locks without physically smashing the glass to make it happen. Though I’m not going to lie, assurances from some stranger don’t reassure me at all.

We make our way down to Danny’s Bar, and since it’s still early, the place is nearly dead. Cara finds a booth to sit in while she waits for her friends, and I leave her to go and clock in for the night. Finding a fresh apron, I wrap it around my waist and make sure to say hi to the kitchen staff.

Since there are still a few minutes before I’m due to start my shift, I do what I can to introduce myself to anyone I didn’t meet last night before making my way out to the bar and getting shit sorted. Hannah has been holding down the fort, and there are a few stray glasses left out on the bar. I get busy moving them to the sink and wiping down the counter as Hannah tends to orders.

“Wow, I wasn’t sure you’d be down for another shift,” she says with a smirk, mixing a few vodka sunrises before sliding them across the bar to a couple of girls who look like they’re ready to let loose after a hard week of college classes. “Starting on our busiest night couldn’t have been easy.”

“Not gonna lie, I slept like the living dead last night, but you can’t get rid of me that easily,” I tell her, noticing out of the corner of my eye that Cara has met up with her friends and looks a shitload more relaxed than she did in our apartment.

Feeling better about the situation, I get lost in my work and the hours quickly tick by as more customers fly through the doors until it’s standing room only. Another two girls join us behind the bar, and I find the night a lot easier to get through than my last shift. There’s a good flow, allowing me to spend a little extra time with each customer, making sure to give them the best service possible and ensure they want to hit me up with all the tips they’ve got.

There’s a better mix of people here tonight as well. Last night, the bar was packed with dumbass jocks and men who wished they fit in with the dumbass jocks, but most of those guys are probably still nursing their hangovers. Tonight is all about fresh faces and students who want to let off a bit of steam. There are groups of women and men trying to hit on them, but unlike last night, there’s a little more class about the place, and in turn, I’m not left filling up endless schooners of beer. I get to mix drinks. Women order cocktails I’ve never even heard of, and it’s honestly one of the best nights of my life.

Who would have known I’d enjoy this so much?

I’m well into my shift when that same chill sails through my bones that I’d felt last night, and without even looking up, I know they’re here again. My gaze discreetly sails across the room, and sure enough, they’re right there in the corner, just as they were last night.

My jaw clenches and the happy, chilled vibe I’ve been feeling all night dissipates into thin air. I try to think back to when I got home last night. Cara said the dude with the snake was Cross and the blonde surfer dude was maybe Sawyer, but the other guy . . . the one who lives directly opposite our apartment, he’s the mystery.

Thoughts of that card stabbed against my bedroom door resurface, and a shiver sails down my spine. I find myself staring straight into the eyes of the main douchebag, and without a word spoken between us, I can almost feel him knowing exactly what I’m thinking.

He did it.

It was this asshole who violated my privacy, this asshole who welcomed himself in through my living room window and crept into my bedroom while I slept.

Unease rocks through me and my hands start to shake, even more so when a wicked smirk kicks up the corner of his lips, making him look like the devil. His friends talk quietly among themselves, and I watch as they slowly make their way around the bar, moving closer and closer with each step.

I swallow hard, the thought of them actually approaching me makes me want to hurl.

“Excuse me,” a girl calls from in front of me, demanding my attention. “My drink?”

“Shit, sorry,” I say, trying to focus on what I’m doing, placing her drink up on the bar and taking her money, though I’m not surprised to find the tip she leaves is piss poor. I deserve it, which makes me want to scold myself for allowing these strangers to get the best of me, again.

Turning to my next customer, I suck in a breath finding Dalton Eros smirking right back at me, those smoldering good looks making me want to die. “Well, hey there, Firefly.”

Oh dear God. Be cool, Oakley. Be cool.

“You stalking me, neighbor?” I chime, my lips pulling into a flirty grin.

“That depends,” he murmurs, that deep rumbly tone doing wicked things to me. His eyes sparkle, and I prepare myself for whatever’s about to come flying out of his mouth. “Does the fear get you hard like it does me?”

I lean forward onto the bar, letting him see the desire in my eyes, and the three disapproving stares from across the room only serve to spur me on. “Did you come here to remind me how much of a manwhore you are, or can I actually get you a drink?”

He shakes his head, his eyes practically dancing with laughter. “I came here to tell you I’m taking you out tonight,” he says. “And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

“Oh really?” I question. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m kinda working tonight.”

“I’m a patient man,” he tells me, leaning against the bar and bringing himself dangerously close, his lips so near to mine I can feel his sweet breath brushing against my throat. “I’ll pick you up after closing.”

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