Page 87 of Out for Blood
I clutched the designer handbag Hawk had given me to use for the occasion and walked confidently past a young woman in black pants and a white shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail.
She glanced up but quickly lowered her head, like she was afraid to be offensive by even looking at me.
A few seconds later a meaty security guard with thinning hair and the air of someone with a chip on his shoulder stepped into the hall.
I tried to ignore him too.
“Excuse me, miss?”
I kept walking, hoping he wouldn’t press, but this time it didn’t work.
“Miss?”
I turned around and tried to act surprised. “Yes?”
I forced myself not to focus on the gun in his holster.
“You can’t be in here without an escort.”
I raised my chin a notch. “Martinassuredme I could wait in the lounge while my fiancée tours the facility.”
Was this how rich people acted? I had no idea — maybe they were mostly nice — but I didn’t have a lot to work with.
The guard frowned. “You’re supposed to have an escort.”
“You can take that up with Martin.”
My pulse raced but I kept going. I felt like a total asshole, but when I glanced back, the guard was gone.
I was halfway to the expansive glass room at the end of the hall, a sign marked Executive Lounge above the door, when a hand snaked out from behind a half-closed door and clamped down on my arm.
I teetered on my heels as I was pulled into a windowless, nondescript office.
Vigo pressed me against the wall and closed his mouth around mine, his tongue driving between my lips.
I melted against the wall, the tension of our mission momentarily disappearing as his hand snaked up my dress.
“Stop fucking around,” Hawk said, behind Vigo. “We don’t know how much time we have.”
Vigo tore his mouth from mine. “That’s part of the fun. Isn’t that right, mouse?”
I blinked but couldn’t come up with an answer.
Vigo stepped away and I saw that Hawk was sitting at the desk near one wall, his gaze trained on a computer monitor while he tapped at the keyboard.
“How did you get into the system?” I asked.
“Aloha,” Hawk said without looking away from the screen.
“Hey, Cass.” Aloha’s voice came from Hawk’s phone, sitting on the desk.
“Hey, Aloha,” I said weakly.
The whole scene was somehow both bland and terrifyingly real.
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
“Take that filing cabinet, will you?” Hawk asked. “This system is ancient. There may still be some paper records.”
