Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,104
seat beside him. “I can do phone delivery. I can do rides, too.”
Hell, yes. Wade jumped into the Jeep’s passenger seat.
Asher cleared his throat. “Just where are we headed?”
“Victoria.” Saying her name made his body tense.
“Right, Victoria’s place. She’s not there, though, just so you know. I tried to deliver her phone first and the place was shut down.”
“That’s because she’s at Wild Jokers, waiting for me.” And his ass wasn’t there. “Someone slit the tires on my motorcycle, and I didn’t have a way to contact her. I need to get there, now.” Because he didn’t like this whole setup. No way to reach her. His tires fucking slashed.
Why slash my tires unless you didn’t want me leaving?
And he’d only been going to one place . . .
To find Victoria.
But no one else had known that.
Right?
“Okay, okay, calm down . . .” Asher shifted gears and had the Jeep spinning around in the road moments later. “I’ll get you there.” But his jaw was grim as he drove. “Slashed tires?” Asher asked, voice thoughtful.
“Yeah. And they were fine when I went into my place earlier. But I got a message from Victoria, asking to meet, and when I went out—”
“Interesting.”
No, it fucking wasn’t. “Drive faster.” Because the knot in his gut wasn’t going away, not until he saw Victoria.
THE LIGHTS WENT off and the last piece of the puzzle fell into place for Victoria—too late.
She immediately tried to move to the left but—
He’s blocking the door. I know he is.
“Victoria . . .” Flynn’s voice called out to her, sounding worried. Concerned. “Something’s wrong with the lights . . .”
No, nothing was wrong with the lights. She’d glanced up in time to actually see his hand turn them off.
“I’m worried about you. I—I saw you come in here, and you were weaving a bit on your feet.”
Only because I was trying to shove my way through a packed dance crowd.
But . . . she needed that crowd right then. She needed to get back outside to them. Screaming wasn’t going to do her any good—no one would hear her. She could hear the wild pounding of the music. Outside that bathroom, there was chaos. Enough chaos to muffle any scream she made.
“I think you had too much to drink . . .” he continued in that same, soft voice. “I saw your empty glass on the table. I know . . . you don’t always like to drink too much.”
Empty glass. No, she’d knocked that glass over. She hadn’t drank from it. He thought she had, though. And he thought that she’d been weaving . . .
Pharmaceutical rep. Dammit, he had access to so many drugs! He’d probably put something in her drink.
Not just mine.
“Victoria?” Now his voice was sharp. “Shit, have you already passed out?”
He hadn’t seen her standing in front of the mirror. He’d put only his hand inside the bathroom when he turned out the lights. So he hadn’t seen that she’d been standing there, perfectly aware.
She heard the rustle of his footsteps. He was coming toward her. Probably about to search the place for her unconscious form. The guy had tried to drug her, and she knew he wanted to take her away from the bar. She couldn’t let that happen.
She had to think of a way out of this mess.
Unfortunately, there were only two stalls in that bathroom. One large sink. And one exit.
An exit that he still blocked.
“Victoria . . .” Now anger roughened his voice.
She had to answer. Had to say something or he’d know that she wasn’t drugged. “F-Flynn?” She made her voice stutter. “Something feels . . . wrong with me . . .”
His sigh swept toward her. “Too much to drink,” he said, voice back to being concerned. Friendly. “I suspected as much when I saw you stagger in.”
You were watching me. How long have you been watching me?
“Good thing I followed you.”
For how long? Nausea twisted within her. “I feel sick.” She wasn’t lying. She’d slept with him. She felt like vomiting.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”
Like you took care of other women? No way was this his first shot at drugging his victims. And he knew I went to Savannah . . .
“Walk toward my voice,” he told her. “I’ll get you out of here. My car’s out back. I’ll take you home.”
“Home . . . n-not far,” she mumbled. “I can walk . . . there . . .” Anything