Chapter 83
Evelyn's POV
My training kicked in before conscious thought. I forced my expression to remain neutral, set the glass down carefully, and continued nodding along to Blake's story while my mind raced through possibilities.
Rohypnol. GHB. Some other date rape drug slipped in while the bartender wasn't looking. Blake must have palmed something when he ordered, counted on me being distracted by his charm offensive to miss the substitution.
Rage flooded through me—cold and precise. The kind of fury that in my old life would have ended with Blake's corpse in a dumpster.
But I couldn't do that. Not here. Not with witnesses and security cameras and Julian watching from across the room.
I glanced toward Julian's booth again. He was leaning forward now, elbows on the table, every line of his body screaming tension. He'd seen something. Maybe not what Blake had done, but enough to know something was wrong.
An idea formed. Reckless and possibly stupid, but it would solve multiple problems at once.
I let myself sway slightly on the barstool. Not enough to be obvious, just a subtle shift in balance that suggested the drug was taking effect.
Blake noticed immediately. His smile widened, predatory instinct recognizing weakness. "You okay there? You look a little tired."
"I'm fine," I said, deliberately slurring the words just slightly. "Just... it's been a long week."
"Maybe you should sit down." His hand landed on my arm, fingers tightening with false concern. "There's a booth in the back. More comfortable. We could keep talking there."
I let him start to pull me up, swaying more dramatically now. Made my eyes unfocus slightly. Let my weight lean against him like I couldn't quite support myself.
"I don't... I feel strange..."
"It's okay. I've got you." Blake's voice was soothing, practiced. How many times had he done this before? How many women had he drugged and dragged to that back booth?
Through my half-closed eyes, I saw Julian stand up. Saw him start moving toward us with that dangerous grace that meant someone was about to get hurt.
Perfect.
I let Blake pull me closer, made myself dead weight in his arms. He was stronger than he looked, already maneuvering me toward the back of the bar where the lighting was dimmer and the security cameras had blind spots.
Then Julian was there, materializing between us and the back hallway like a wall of controlled violence.
"I think the lady's had enough for tonight." His voice was flat. Dangerous. The tone he used when he was about to break someone's bones.
Blake's grip on my arm tightened possessively. "Back off, man. This is none of your business."
"She's my employee." Julian's eyes were ice. "That makes it my business."
I felt Blake tense, calculating whether he could win this confrontation. But even drugged and half-conscious, I was apparently still too much of a prize to abandon easily.
"She came on to me," Blake said, trying for indignation. "Bought her a drink, we were having a nice conversation—"
"He drugged me." My voice came out weak, breathy. Perfect victim performance. "The drink... he put something in it..."
Julian's expression didn't change, but something shifted in the air around him. Something that made Blake take an involuntary step back.
"You have three seconds to let go of her," Julian said quietly. "One."
Blake's hand dropped from my arm like I'd burned him.
"Two."
"Look, I don't know what she told you, but—"
Julian moved. One moment he was standing still, the next his hand was wrapped around Blake's throat, slamming him back against the wall hard enough to rattle bottles on nearby shelves.
"I said three seconds." Julian's voice was conversational. Almost pleasant. "You wasted them."
I let myself collapse against the bar, playing up the drugged helplessness while internally cataloging every move of the confrontation. The bartender was reaching for the phone—probably calling security. Other patrons were turning to stare. We had maybe sixty seconds before this became a scene that required police involvement.
"Julian." I made my voice weak, frightened. "Please... I just want to go home..."
His eyes flicked to me, and I saw the calculation there. The decision between teaching Blake a lesson and getting me out of here before complications arose.
He released Blake with a shove that sent the man stumbling. "If I hear that you've approached her again, or any other woman for that matter, I'm going to make sure everyone in your social circle knows exactly what kind of man you are." He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper I could barely hear. "Do you understand me?"
Blake nodded frantically, one hand clutching his throat.
Julian turned away from him like he was garbage beneath notice and moved to my side. "Can you walk?"
"I think so..." I let myself lean heavily against him, wrapping my arms around his neck for support. "Everything's spinning..."
His arm came around my waist, solid and steady. "I've got you."
He guided me toward the exit, supporting most of my weight. I let my head loll against his shoulder, breathed in the scent of his cologne mixed with controlled fury, and felt something warm and dangerous unfurl in my chest.
This was stupid. Reckless. I was playing with fire by deliberately making myself vulnerable, by using Blake's predatory behavior to force Julian into this position.
But as we stepped out into the cool night air and Julian lifted me into his arms without breaking stride, I couldn't bring myself to regret it.
"He drugged me," I murmured against his neck, letting my breath ghost across his skin. "Put something in my drink..."
Julian's arms tightened around me. "I know. I saw." His voice was rough. "How much did you drink?"
"Just a sip. I caught the taste immediately." I let my lips brush against his throat, felt him shudder. "But I'm so dizzy... everything's so confusing..."
"That's the drug talking." But his voice had gone hoarse. "We need to get you home. Make sure you're safe."
"Will you stay?" I looked up at him through my lashes, saw the war playing out in his eyes. "I'm scared to be alone..."
"Evelyn." My name came out strangled. "You're not thinking clearly. The drug—"
"I only had a sip." I pressed closer, felt the evidence of his arousal against my hip. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
His jaw clenched. "Do you?"
"Take me home, Julian." I let my voice drop to a breathy whisper, the kind that bypassed rational thought and went straight to primal instinct. "Please..."
He stared down at me for a long moment, gray eyes burning with barely controlled want. Then he carried me toward his Mercedes with quick, purposeful strides.
"This is a mistake," he said, but he was already opening the passenger door.
"Probably." I smiled against his neck. "But I'm making it anyway."