“What’s that for?” she asks, her voice light. “To clean up this mess. Dried blood is a bitch to get out of the floors.” She giggles. “You care more about the state of the floors than you did about your dead poker friends.” I open the security door, step out into the hallway, and pause for the automatic lights. As they flicker on, I meet her huge, blue eyes. “That morning, when I woke up, seeing them all dead, the first thing I thought about was you.” Her lips part with a gasp. “What do you mean?” “I thought someone had broken in to steal you back. The thought of you being taken… It made me
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