Imitation by Heather Hildenbrand Page A

us has said anything remotely funny. For some
reason, this makes me laugh too.
    When the door opens, we fall abruptly
silent, but that just makes the whole thing funnier and sound
erupts around my closed lips.
    I recognize Linc’s shoes before I see
his face and I manage to shut up, although I can’t help the
brilliant smile that remains. This relaxed version of me is elated
to see him again. He appears around the aisle of coats, glaring
when he spots Taylor beside me—and the bottle between us. Only then
do I realize neither of us bothered to try and hide it.
    “ Your father is looking
for you,” Linc says.
    His voice is low and deeper than
usual. His brows are drawn and I can’t tell if he’s angry because I
don’t feel the least bit disturbed by his expression. Or by
anything else, thanks to the drink. Then I realize who he means by
“father” and the image of Titus wipes the smile from my face in an
instant.
    I jump up and mumble something to
Taylor about seeing her later.
    “ Call me!” Taylor says as
I hurry out. I can tell by the sound of her voice she is not the
least bit disturbed by the interruption and has every intention of
continuing the party on her own.
    I follow Linc out the door and he
whirls on me before I can leave the shadowy alcove that shields us
from the rest of the party. “That was monumentally stupid
disappearing like that,” he says.
    “ I didn’t—I thought you
were watching,” I say, stumbling over words that feel thick in my
mouth.
    “ It doesn’t matter. You
should be more careful. You can’t rely on me to be everywhere, to
see everything.”
    “ Why not?” I ask, cocking
my head in genuine puzzlement. “You’ll protect me. And it was just
Taylor.”
    “ How do you know? There
could’ve been someone waiting for you in that room, and I wouldn’t
have gotten there in time.”
    I hadn’t thought of that. Now that I
have, I am afraid—and angry with myself for being so stupid. I try
to think of some flippant remark, some quick comeback to hide my
fear or the fact that he is right, but my thoughts are
cloudy.
    “ And to top it off, you’re
drinking?” He throws up his hands. “Do you want to die?”
    “ No,” I whisper, but he
ignores me and keeps on.
    “ How am I supposed to
protect you if you won’t even protect yourself? I can’t save an
idiot. You’re already dead if you keep this up.”
    I step back, feeling as if I’ve been
struck.
    Before I can answer, Gus appears. He
seems oblivious to the tension between Linc and me as he says,
“We’re leaving. Meet us downstairs in five.”
    I reach for the door behind me but
Linc shakes his head and steps around me. “Wait here. I’ll get your
things.”
    He disappears inside the coatroom
before I can argue. The sound of his voice lingers in my ears, an
accusing loop of his harsh words. Somehow I know that if Linc has
given up protecting me, I don’t stand a chance. But more than that,
I hate that I will never, ever earn his respect.
    It takes me all of three seconds to
come to a decision. I head for the elevator with quick steps and a
fixed stare. I hope my expression is determined and detached enough
that no one will question me. And that I don’t run into Titus or
Gus. I am sure there are other security officers here watching but
none have approached me. I’m counting on them remaining far enough
back they won’t notice my intention until it is too
late.
    When I reach the foyer, I push the
button that will call the elevator and glance around. A few
partygoers wander this way but they are wrapped up in their own
conversations. I sidestep and slip out the door into the stairwell.
It is seventeen flights down but I do not go that way.
    It is three flights to the roof. Even
so, I am winded when I reach the door marked “Exit” in glowing red
letters. I pause to catch my breath—and curse myself for that third
swig of vodka. So far, I’ve heard no sounds behind me, no
indication I am being followed.
    I