"Yeah," I say and stagger near the door. I glance around outside, hoping she's waiting by the vehicle.
She's nowhere in sight. I lock up the club, and Dmitri heads to his SUV, parked two down from mine.
"Looks like you're going home alone," he says.
I clear my throat and give him a pointed stare. "The new girl found herself another ride home," I say. "I've just been taking her to the subway."
"Sure you have. Don't worry, boss. It's none of my business."
"Damn straight," I mutter. I unlock the door and climb into the front seat.
I wait for Dmitri to pull out of the lot before heading toward Savannah's apartment. It's late. I should go home, but I can't stop visiting her and checking up on her. I need to know she's safe and, more importantly, alone.
My blood boils thinking she could have brought the client home with her. My mouth is dry, and I hit the gas harder, flooring it across town and needing to get to her apartment as quickly as possible.
What if she's not home?
Or worse, what if she went home with him?