Page 46 of Relapse

Maybe stop letting emotionally unstable tattooed men ruin your life just because they look hot covered in foam and bad intentions.

Actually no.

Too late for that probably.

He fixes my panties then stands slowly to his full height, one hand gripping my waist hard enough to steady me when my legs wobble beneath the foam-covered water.

And judging by the dark look still sitting in his eyes?

He’s nowhere near done with me.

I blink hard.

And that’s when I see him.

Standing just outside the foam.

Dark clothes.

Still.

Watching.

The same guy from earlier.

My stomach drops instantly.

The tension must hit my body before my brain fully catches up because Noir notices immediately. His head snaps up fast, eyes following my line of sight through the crowd.

And the second he sees the man—

Everything changes.

“Fuck.”

One arm wrapping tight around my waist while his free hand yanks his phone from his pocket.

That’s one of Dante’s guys,” he mutters harshly, already dialing. “Shit.”

The music suddenly feels too loud.

The lights too bright.

My pulse stumbles strangely inside my chest.

“Noir—”

My voice comes out wrong.

Weak.

The foam around us starts tilting sideways.

Or maybe I am.

“Dagger,” Noir snaps into the phone immediately. “They spotted her. We need to—”

The rest cuts off into static.