Disco Bomb

Chapter 13

   (A/N: This scene was one of two that persuaded me to actually start writing the book after I thought I had finished with RWD)

May 19th, 2017. 7:30 PM

   Somehow, I'd agreed to dance with Jack, his arms around my waist and mine around his neck, careful not to disturb the microphone hidden in his suit collar. He could be an egotistical asshole, which he was when I'd first met him, but he'd also saved my life at least twice.

   But the dress put a heavy damper on my mood. Monica had canceled on Dane last minute and given the dress to me. It had a black, sleeveless top with a really tight ribbon around my waist. The skirt looked and felt like it was made of layers and layers of gray fishnets, which stuck out and looked like a feather duster. There was also the constant chatter coming out of the microphone from the other three pairs.

   Jack looked around and, to my surprise, turned the microphone off. Then he lowered his voice. "Having a good time?"

   I blinked, considering. Dancing in this position felt like hugging him for four hours straight, but it was the only way to stay inconspicuously still and scout for Bruce and Bailey. And since Lane was at least a head taller than me, I could barely see over his shoulder. "It's good. Everything's fine." He didn't look entirely convinced, so I added, "The dress feels like hell."

   "I'd imagine we'd both know what that feels like." He chuckled. "At least it's better than Connie's."

   That was true. Connie, dancing with Brandon close to the exit doors, had a white, sleeveless dress that hugged her body and barely went to her knees. It was covered with papery floral patterns and looked like it came straight out of a wedding bouquet. Angela wore a flowing black gown with a skirt that pooled around her waist. "It's nowhere near as good as Angela's."

   "That might be true," he agreed. "But I don't like her as much as I like you."

   I ducked my head down to prevent him from seeing the inevitable blush. I quickly decided to switch topics. "Do you see him or the bomb?"

   "Nope. And if either were down there, we would've noticed by now."

   Dammit, he was right. I looked back up. "So it can't be on the floor. Last time, he hid it in a room only employees could access. So we're looking for something technical."

   "Right. There's the lights, the DJ, the stereos...."

   We both looked up at the same time.

   The disco ball was hanging from the ceiling like a thread, slowly spinning as it blanketed the room in a constellation of blue lights. Another wire ran from the ceiling to the ball, and I had no doubt it wasn't for lights. The bomb was in there.

   I pulled away from Jack and grabbed his hand, weaving through the thick crowd at the plaza and feeling the ribbon around my waist for where I'd hidden the gun. Once we were at the edge of the crowd, Jack took his hand from mine and grabbed his gun, walking calmly but hurried to a stairway. I could hear him speaking into his collar, telling Riley to call the bomb squad.

   It turned out that this stairwell led to the maintenance hall. Jack stopped at the corner and took out his gun. "The disco ball controls are in the room at the end of the hall. Dane and Sykes will probably be there, too."

   I took out my gun and peeked around the corner. "Clear."

   We ran to the door at the end, stopping to listen for anyone inside. I shook my head when I didn't hear anyone. Jack pulled me back, took a few steps backwards, and kicked the door open.

   Something stung my back. A taser. Jack shouted in surprise. Two of them.

   At the same moment I realized that Bailey and Bruce had hit us from behind, I also realized something else:

   Jack had never turned his microphone back on.