touched my earlobe, our secret signal that I was running off to the ladies room. He nodded, and I blew him a dramatic kiss. He grinned, and I pivoted on my heel, walking away with a little extra swing to my hips. The night was winding down, and I knew my husband well enough to expect a wild romp once he had me alone again.
The line for the bathroom was longer than I had expected, and I had a few moments to open my clutch and check my phone. There were the usual social media notifications and texts wishing me a happy new year. A missed phone call caught my eye. I didn’t recognize the number. There was a voicemail, too.
Certain it was someone who had drunk dialed the wrong number, I left it unopened and tucked my phone back into my clutch. The line moved more quickly, and in no time at all, I was standing at the sink washing my hands. I kept hold of my paper towel as I reached the door, using it to grab the handle and catching the door with the toe of my shoe before tossing the paper towel in the nearby trash.
Out in the dim but warmly lit hallway, I sidestepped a trio of women consoling a crying fourth and averted my gaze when I passed an older couple making out like teenagers in a dark corner. Alcohol had been free flowing all night, and people were starting to get loose with their behavior. It was amusing to say the least.
“Erin.”
I cringed inwardly at the sound of Teague’s voice. With an aggrieved sigh, I turned toward him. “Teague.”
He swayed on his feet, and I worried he was about to topple over onto his face. He had lost his bowtie and vest sometime during the night, and his cowboy hat was crumpled in his left hand. His cheeks were ruddy and his eyes were glassy as he stepped toward me with an accusatory finger. “I know your secret.”
Taken aback, I asked, “What secret?”
“About your sister,” he slurred.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re drunk. Call for a ride. Go home. Sleep it off.”
“You better do what they told you, sweetheart. Tell your sister to keep her mouth shut—or else.”
A cold chill coursed through my body, freezing me right to the very spot I stood. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” He poked my shoulder hard enough that I winced, and I stepped back to get away from him. He stepped forward, boxing me in against the wall. His sour breath assaulted my nose as he leaned down and stage whispered, “You can lie all you want to the cops, but I know the truth. I know what your sister did, and I know what they’re going to do to you if she talks.” His expression slackened as he grew suddenly sad. “The same thing they’re going to do to me.”
Ignoring the warning bells inside my head that urged me to flee, I asked, “Who is they?”
He shook his head and wagged his finger right in my face. “No, ma’am. I’m not saying a word.” He mimicked zipping his lips. “Then they’ll really fuck me up.”
“I’m two seconds away from fucking you up,” Ivan snarled, seeming to appear from thin air. He gripped Teague’s shoulder and spun him around, pushing him up against the wall. Looking down at Teague, he growled, “If you ever touch my wife again, I’ll cut off both your fucking hands. Understand?”
Teague shoved at Ivan, but it was useless against a man so much stronger and taller. “Fuck off, you big Russian asshole.” He shoved Ivan with both hands this time, but Ivan didn’t move. “I had my hands all over your wife before you ever did.” He leered at me. “Not just my hands. My dick was—"
He didn’t get a chance to finish his filthy statement. In a flash, Ivan spun him around and yanked his arm behind his back. He used his greater height and strength to push Teague flat against the wall, smashing the side of his face against the glimmering gold wallpaper. He moved his mouth close to Teague’s ear and said something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, Teague paled and nodded rapidly.
A second later, Ivan whirled him away from the wall and shoved him down the hallway. He clenched his fists at his side, and I placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding against his sternum and his lungs expanding with amped up