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“A bar.”
“Which bar?”
Wow. He was being awfully insistent. “Why do you want to know that?”
“I’m going to pick you up and take you home. Which bar are you at?”
Take me… home?
I couldn’t quite wrap my head around his offer, but he sounded concerned, so I relented. “The Society Bar.”
“I’m going to come and get you, okay? Just hold tight. Don’t leave the bar. Do you understand? Amelia?”
“I understand.”
“And stay away from that man.”
“Okay.”
“Good. Wait for me there.”
He hung up.
Oh my gosh. Of everyone I could have accidentally called, why did it have to be him? Now, my boss was going to pick me up, drunk, from a bar. I’d never be able to live this down.
After fixing myself up in the mirror, I stumbled out of the bathroom. That’s when I ran straight into him.
The creep, loitering outside the bathrooms.
He reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, and he stared at me, unblinking, with bloodshot eyes. “Are you here alone?” he asked.
My skin crawled.
Do not engage.
I ignored him and walked straight to the exit. He followed. I approached the security guard standing by the door—a tall, beefy man dressed all in black. “Excuse me, that man is bothering me.” I pointed to the creep.
The security guard shot him a significant look, and he backed down, pretending to look innocent.
I need to get out of this place.
The music was giving me a headache. I was hot and bothered and needed fresh air. Neil had told me not to leave the bar, but I was just going outside. Besides, if I waited outside, I’d be able to spot him as soon as he arrived.
The street was dark and frigid. Puddles rippled under the moonlight. A group of young people mooched about, smoking and talking between themselves.
Neil better get here soon.
While I waited, I tried calling Nicole again. I wanted to tell her I was going home, so she wouldn’t come looking for me if she realised I was missing. This time, I concentrated extra hard through my brain fog to make sure I called her and not Neil or anyone else. Several rings went by. She didn’t pick up. Figures. I composed a text message instead. After many attempts to write something legible, I pressed send.
I’m going home now. Thanks for everything.
It had a sense of finality to it. She would realise what had happened and feel regretful. Mission accomplished.
“Milly?” came a voice.
I shuddered in reaction before I could make the mental connection of who the voice belonged to. I looked up from my phone and faced the speaker.
Leon.
