I pick up my pace. The alcohol helping me block out the way my shoes are pinching my toes.
“Excuse me.” I shuffle past another group, taking a few quick strides across a small open section of floor. “Pardon me.” I place my hand on the shoulder of a shorter gentleman causing him to turn left as I sneak around the other side of him.
I don’t want to draw attention to my flight. Causing a scene wouldn’t be good for me, I’m sure of it.
It’s tempting to look back to check for my pursuer again, but I don’t dare. I need to focus on getting out.
A stretch of space opens up before me, but the feeling of fingers brushing against my shoulders kills the small amount of relief I’d felt.
“King!” A voice booms out beside me, and the fingers drop away.
CHAPTER 52
King
Fuck.
Plastering a neutral ex
