To Die For - Davidson King Page 0,58

Max had been staying with me in my apartment, much to his mother’s delight. We had dinner with her, and then we went to work, and because Max was paranoid, he made me go with him. It got tricky when I had to get back to the studio to teach, but Nolan promised Max he’d call if Dorian showed. The issue was that I was exhausted. Going to Joker’s Sin at night until like four and having to be at the studio by ten was running me ragged.

An hour before Max had to leave for work, he asked if I was going to change.

“Max, I’m so freaking tired. Every waking minute is spent dancing, or at your work, or packing. I need a night in. I get you’re paranoid and rightly so, but I swear I won’t open the door for anyone. You can take my spare key. Hell, you can take Tank out for his walk now and again when you get home. I won’t step foot out of my apartment, but I have to sleep.”

His features softened. “Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be safe here, I promise.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll go take Tank the Mighty out, and then again when I’m done for the night.”

“Great.” It was such a relief, I ran to my bedroom and threw on sweats and a ratty T-shirt. Max laughed when he came back.

“You’re really taking advantage of this night in, huh?”

He came up to me and I wrapped my arms around his waist. “Normally working and going to Joker’s Sin is the best. And I still love it. But constantly, it’s killing me, and add in the packing…” I waved toward my small guest room, where we were storing all the boxes we’d packed. I felt by putting them in a different room and shutting the door, there was less of a chance Tank would get hurt or lost in the mess.

“I get it. You sleep, and I’ll see you later.”

We spent the next few minutes just kissing, and by the time he left, I was hard as a rock and wanted to chase after him and have my dirty way with him.

After getting Tank fresh food and water, I made some popcorn, grabbed a water, and plopped on my couch. I’d been watching Peaky Blinders on Netflix—the second I’d seen Cillian Murphy’s eyes, I was sold on the show. I had a few episodes to watch to finish the season and as exhausted as I was, I hoped to make it through at least one.

I must’ve fallen asleep halfway through the episode because my phone buzzed making me jump. A quick look at the time showed it was one in the morning, and the sound was notifying me someone was downstairs. Max had at least a few more hours, and I knew he took his key. My phone buzzed again, and I hit the button.

“Hello?”

“Lane Ashley?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi there, sorry to bother you so late. My name’s Lieutenant Mancy. There was a break-in at your studio. If you don’t mind buzzing me up, I need to speak with you.”

A break-in at my studio? I had the alarm connected to my cell phone. I flipped to my studio screen and there was no alert.

“My alert didn’t go off,” I said.

“The alarm wasn’t set it seems. A passerby saw someone throw a rock at the window, called the police and I was sent out. I’d much prefer talking to you inside.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. I supposed it was possible Nolan forgot to set the alarm. My window didn’t face the studio so I couldn’t check and see. I texted Max quickly, letting him know there was a cop here because someone broke into the studio but not to worry.

“Okay, I’ll buzz you in.” I hit the button and walked over to the door.

I had a peephole, so I peered through it. I’d see who walked off the elevator, and if he wasn’t a police officer, I’d be sure to call the real ones. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the elevator opened and a man in uniform stepped off and walked toward my door. I opened it when he knocked.

“Lane Ashley?” He was an older guy, maybe in his late forties. He flashed his badge and I nodded. “I’m Lieutenant Mancy. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” I opened the door wider, and he stepped in. Tank was lying on the couch where I left him, and he growled pathetically at the cop.

“She’s