The words were elongated and slurred. A warning bolted across my skin. “I’m tired,” I told him carefully. “Perhaps we can talk in the morning.”
“What are you doing, Clarke?” he asked. “Pardon, that’s not your name, is it? Not anymore.”
I eyed the door handle. “Theo, you shouldn’t—”
“He’s a dangerous man.” He stalked forward, and in the dark, he seemed taller, more daunting. “You haven’t been here long enough to see that, but I have.”
“Theo. I don’t know what you’re talk—”
“I watched you,” he said, stepping closer, into another prism of light thrown through the window. “I watched you dance with him.” His face had changed. Liquor had dragged out the circles beneath his eyes and twisted his lips, turning him cruel. “I watched you kiss him.”
Fear slid down my throat and into my belly, do
