cops come in with acrylic masks shoved over their faces, Billy clubs out, screaming get out at the top of their lungs, and I pull the two of us into a dark alcove. Serena lands her body up against mine, and I wrap an arm around her to keep her from falling back into view.
I shrug. “I’m guessing underage drinking.”
She sucks in a breath. “The club has a twenty-one or older cutoff, and my twenty-first birthday isn’t for another six months!”
“How the hell did you get in?” I can’t hide how livid I am, and not just because of the things we were inadvertently doing together, but if she wasn’t here with me, she would have been doing God knows what with God knows who.
She shrinks a little in my grasp. “Fake ID.”
“Great. You’re off on the right start in life, kid.” I glance back down the hall, and it’s notably empty. “Come on. We’re making a run for it.”
“Who you calling a kid!” she riots after me as we snake our way through the tunnel-like establishment until we hit a side door that swings open to a back alley. There’s no way I’m heading out the front door into the waiting firepower of the Jepson PD. Not that I’m afraid they’ll shoot on sight—not anyone else, that is. But if Marlin Maxfield spots me with his scantily dressed sister, I’m pretty sure shots will be fired—directly at me.
“You’re a kid, Serena,” I say, trying to catch my breath as we hit the warm balmy night air. The alleyway is empty save for a couple of girls laughing as they run from the club.
Serena pulls her phone out and grunts, “Great. Harley took off with Tyson, and she wants me to walk two blocks to meet her.”
“In this dump?” I pause a minute to take her in. Her hair is waving in the breeze, thick and wild and red as an angry bull. Serena is rather bullish, so the analogy isn’t all that off. That hair should have given her away, and if there was a modicum of lighting in that sex dungeon we were in, it would have. “You need better friends, Serena. Text her back and tell her I’ll get you home.”
Her fingers work quickly as I lead us to my car.
A couple of cops stroll this way, and both Serena and I take in a quick breath. I don’t hesitate pulling her behind an overgrown dumpster, and we crouch low to the ground. That wasn’t just any old cop walking the beat. That was Marlin with his hand on his weapon, and I’m sure he’s feeling a little trigger-happy right about now.
Serena gives my fingers a quick yank. “He can’t see me.” Her emerald eyes glitter with tears, and my heart breaks for her. I know how bad it feels to disappoint a sibling. I know how hard that is to live with, especially when they’re not around to make it up to them anymore.
I lean in and touch my nose to hers for a moment. It doesn’t seem inappropriate considering I had my tongue down her throat less than five minutes ago. “He won’t see you. I can promise you that.”
A weak laugh escapes her as the stench of something sour wafts over from the bin. “You do realize we have lousy luck in dark alleys laden with dumpsters.”
I wince at the thought. “You might be right, but look at it this way. If there’s a dead body tonight, it will most likely be mine, so you’re good to go.”
She gives a little laugh. Her head tilting to the side allows for the streetlamp to glow over her features and makes Serena look like an angel—one with horns and a tail, but a being of an otherworldly variety nevertheless.
As soon as it’s clear, we hightail it to my car, and I speed us the hell out of there. Neither one of us says a word about those heated kisses, and we arrive at Whitney Briggs in silence. Serena pauses to get out as she swings the car door open, her heavy eyes lifting to mine.
“Thanks for the clean getaway.” Her lips quiver a moment, full and ruby red, and that heated response my body has been doling out liberally in her honor goes off like a bomb.
“You bet.” It comes out lower than a whisper. I swallow hard because I know what I have to do. “Hey, Serena?”
She turns around, those wide eyes as large as