What the fuck was I thinking coming here armed with only a tiny knife?
When I moved to ascend the stairs, he grabbed my shoulder. My immediate response was to whirl around and take on a defensive stance. He didn’t flinch but did look mildly surprised.
“Hold your arms out.”
“What?”
“I’m going to pat you down.” His tone left no room for argument, and gritting my teeth against the world of responses filling my mind, I held my arms out and spread my legs slightly. He was all business, and I was thankful for that, at least. He didn’t linger, not paying more than necessary attention to my chest, focusing more on my torso and thighs.
When he reached my pocket, I stiffened as he slid his hand inside, pausing and eyeing me before continuing and removing the silver knife. Surely, he wouldn’t be offended by such a small weapon? But he studied it with interest, casting me a look I couldn’t interpret before pocketing it himself.
I wanted to ask for it back since I was running out of the fucking things.
Ray couldn’t wipe the grin from her face when he patted her down, and she moaned and writhed as he moved his hands over her body. I knew she was messing with him, but it still made me grind my teeth in irritation. When she looked at me with that smirk, I cringed, knowing exactly what she was doing, trying to get a rise out of me and to spark a hint of jealousy.
Dammit, it was working too.
“Upstairs, ladies,” he said as though he were inviting us somewhere fun and exclusive and not to meet some underground crime lord.
Pressing my lips together in what I hoped passed for a smile, I moved up the stairs, Ray following close behind me.