Her ripe br**sts fairly spilled from her top, the minuscule bottoms cupping her sweet ass like an invitation.
It wasn’t warm out, not freezing, but there was definitely a chill in the air. It was only as I felt it that I realized I’d left my shirt behind, somewhere in that blasted rave.
No way in hell was I going back in there.
As though just realizing how cold it was herself, Iris shivered. I pulled her into my chest, rubbing her arms.
“Nasty slut,” some perturbed girl with ink-black hair and goth makeup called out as a group of people passed. She was looking directly at Iris, obviously speaking to her.
My brows drew together, jaw clenching.
Iris seemed oblivious to it, tilting her head back to watch me instead.
“Easy there, tiger,” she said, her tone amused, her eyes smiling up at me. “She just didn’t like my outfit. Not everyone is ever going to love what you’re putting out there, especially when you’re having a good time. There’s always going to be a percentage of the population that has a problem with fun, that wants to put you down for having it.”
“What an unpleasant young woman,” I said tersely, sending the girl’s back another glare.
Iris laughed. “Don’t hold back now.”
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Let’s,” she agreed, but abruptly she stiffened, pulling away.
She started looking around, appearing suddenly paranoid in the extreme.
She licked her lips, and focused on me, her entire demeanor suddenly changed. “Listen, I forgot something important inside. I’ll meet you at your car.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
She held up a hand, fingers spread wide, backing away. “No more than five minutes, I swear.”
I shouldn’t have believed her, but I did.
When would I learn?
She disappeared inside, and I stood there for a moment, torn on whether I should follow her, just in case she ran into trouble.
In the end, I figured I didn’t need to. She had the staff in her pocket, and she’d sworn she’d only be five minutes.
I was almost to my car when all hell broke loose.
The breath whooshed out of me as something hard slammed into my back, taking me down to the ground. My hands met the pavement a split second before the rest of me joined it, just saving me from some broken bones, I was sure.
A big, hard body pressed against my back and cold metal dug into my temple.
“Where is she, you piece of shit?” a familiar voice growled at me.
Fucking Heath.
“Get off me,” I growled back.
For some reason, it worked.
He let up and I stood, glaring at him.
“Well, where the f**k is she?” he asked, gun down at his side, at least, but I was willing to bet he could raise and shoot before I could do much about it.
I tried to lie. It wasn’t clean and neat. “No clue. Haven’t seen her.”
His expression was an entertaining combination of disgusted and amused. “You really think I’ll believe that you were here on your own? This a normal weekday outing for you, Masters?”
“I like to dance,” I tried.
He snarled at me. “If you give even one ounce of a f**k about her, you’ll call me the second she contacts you again.” He reached into his pocket, then thrust his fist at me, handing me a small card with nothing on it but a phone number.
Not f**king likely, but I didn’t even have time to tell him that, as he’d already started moving away, towards the club, a man clearly on a mission.
Fuck.
I looked for her until the morning hours, running into a furious Heath several times while we both searched the area.
Neither of us found her. I figured she’d bolted the second she caught wind of him.
I went home as the sun rose in the sky, still covered in body paint.
Shirtless, Irisless, I walked into my house, hoping she’d be there to greet me.
She wasn’t. I’d lost her, yet again.
CHAPTER TEN
It was three days later, and I was calling the number on the card Heath had given me, yet again.
I didn’t have much else to go on.
Heath answered with his usual hostility. “You better have f**king found her this time, or so help me God,” he snarled.
I cleared my throat. He really was a scary motherfucker. “No, just checking in to see if you have.”
“Fuck off,” he snapped and hung up.
I sighed and set my phone on my desk. I’d try again, regardless of what he said, in a few hours. That number was the only tie I had to her, sad as that was.
It wasn’t ten minutes later when I got a call from Turner.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Um, hey man. Listen, uh . . . wanna come over and hang out?”
He sounded weird, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.
“Maybe tomorrow,” I told him, feeling in no mood for company. I was still in the punchy, antisocial stage of my post-Iris-high.
I heard him sigh into the phone, pause for a long time, then, “You should come over today. Trust me on this.”
That was too random and strange not to investigate, but no matter what I asked him, he wouldn’t clarify.
About an hour later, I found myself driving to his house, still clueless about what was going on.
He met me at the door, acting as weird as he’d sounded, and glancing over my head, behind me, looking paranoid in the extreme.
That paranoia reminded me of something familiar. Or rather, someone.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked him, amused.
“Come on in,” he said, projecting his voice, sounding unnatural.
I stepped in, and he shut it behind me, giving me a very inscrutable look.
“This way,” he said quietly, leading me upstairs, instead of to the usual hangout.
I was about to question him again when he stopped at a closed door, the second one at the top of the steps.
He opened it, and I looked inside. It was dark, shudders shut tight.
A body came hurdling out of that darkness, launching itself into my chest.
A luscious little body, topped by bright pink hair.
Without thought, my arms caught Iris tight against me.
I took her in with a few deep breaths like that before I started in on her.
“You lied to me,” I accused. “You said you were done with lying, but you did it again. No more than five minutes you swore, three days ago.”