Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Get her out of here,” the man with the velvet jacket said under his breath.
“Join us to be saved,” the woman shouted from over her shoulder as they dragged her toward the exit. “Look for our symbol outside and you’ll find your way.”
Guests turned in their seats to watch the commotion as the woman kicked in her heels and tried to break free. At the door, she managed to step on the foot of one of the men, who let go as he momentarily lost his balance. Using the opportunity of having her arm free, the woman dug a handful of leaflets from her bag and scattered them into the crowd. By that time, more help had arrived, and the Medusa woman was once more restrained and marched outside.
The man who’d bossed the guards around offered Bono a hand in greeting. “Bono, I’m sorry. I tried to catch her before she made it over to you. The city is crawling with damn lunatic evangelists who believe it’s their life mission to convert my clientele.”
“No worries.” Bono shook the other man’s hand. “Has it happened before?”
“More often than I like. Anyway, unpleasantries aside, how are you? I hope you’re happy with your table.”
“I’m good, and thanks for giving us a prime spot on short notice. It was an impulsive decision or I would’ve booked.” He turned to Sky. “This is Miss Val.”
“Clinton Melk.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers. “An absolute pleasure.” His eyes were friendly until they fell on the tattoo showing from under the neckline of her suit. For the briefest of seconds, his hand tightened around hers, but then he put a mask in place and dropped her fingers. “Champagne on the house to apologize for the dreadful disruption?”
“Thanks,” Bono said, “but we’re good.” He got to his feet. “Would you mind keeping Miss Val company while I visit the gents?”
“Of course not.”
“I don’t need babysitting,” Sky retorted.
Bono only kissed the top of her head and said, “I’ll be right back.”
When he disappeared in the direction of the restrooms, Clinton sat down next to her on the bench. He gave her a once-over. “How did you and Bono meet?”
Clinton was obviously a clever guy who knew this town. There was no point in running circles around the truth. “Do you mean how, or where?”
“Oh, I know where. I’m just wondering what Doumar’s girl is doing with my friend.”
“I’m not Doumar’s girl.”
He motioned at her tattoo. “Aren’t you?”
“I’m his slave. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t want trouble. I think you should go.”
“Fine.” She left her glass on the table and pushed to her feet. “I won’t overstay my welcome.”
He gave her a level look. “Bono is a good friend.”
“You’re lucky. Tell him I say goodbye.”
As she scooted past him, he grabbed her wrist. “Can I get you a cab or call someone from the club to get you?”
“No, thanks. I know my way home.”
About to turn, she spotted Bono making his way over to them. His eye landed on Clinton’s fingers still wrapped around her wrist, and then his expression turned thunderous.
“What’s going on?” he asked, stopping next to them. “Why is your hand on her, Clinton?”
Clinton let go of her. “We were just saying goodbye.”
Bono narrowed his eyes on her. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” Sky said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Clinton,” Bono said without taking his eyes off of her, “can you please give us a moment?”
“Sure.” He got to his feet and patted Bono on the shoulder. “Stick around. The DJ is good.”
Without another glance in her direction, he went upstairs and disappeared into one of the private rooms.
“Don’t ever run out on me,” Bono said. “It’s pointless. I will always come after you. Now tell me why you’re running.”
“I’m not running.” It was too exhausting to explain. A girl like her would never be welcome in his world. People will always know where she belonged. The tattoo had branded her for what she was, a destiny she couldn’t escape.
He lowered his head to put their eyes on level. “Sky.”
“Let it go.”
“What did Clinton say to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“Let’s just go. Please.”
He took her hand and dragged her behind him up the stairs. “Come.”
“Where are you going?”
He opened the first office door without knocking and walked inside. Clinton, who sat on a sofa facing a flat-screen where a security broadcast played, looked up in surprise.
“She’s with me,” Bono said. “If she’s not welcome, neither am I.”
“The point is,” Clinton said calmly, “she’s not with you. She’s with Doumar.”
“Not now, she’s not.”
Bono turned on his heel, pulling her along.
“Don’t be a fool, Bono,” Clinton called after them.
Bono stopped in the doorframe to face Clinton again. “I took you for a friend.”
“I am your friend, but it’s not you who concerns me.” He nodded at Sky. “It’s her I’m worried about.”