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His call to Gunner only intensified Trey’s aggravation. While he could appreciate East’s president and their club's fondness for Dahlia, Trey wouldn’t be allowing her to go home with anyone other than him.
Once Trey gave Gunner the rundown of what had happened, the president of East offered to come get both women. No fucking chance.
Trey's phone pinged, and he glanced down.
Gunner: Out front.
Trey tucked his phone in his pocket and looked over at the women. He was well aware they were secretly whispering while he was on the phone with Gunner. But since then, they’d remained quiet.
“Let’s go. Gunner’s here.”
Trey waited until Dahlia was a foot away and grabbed her hand, leading them down the hallway and into the elevator. He didn’t make eye contact with either of them but felt Dahlia move in closer to his side. Once the doors opened, Trey made his way through the club with both women following.
Trey ignored all the stares as he weaved through the crowd and down the long corridor toward the back entrance. As expected, Gunner was waiting with three other members in the parking lot.
Trey glanced over at Sloane, whose face was pale, staring back at Gunner and the brothers of East.
“Sloane,” he said, and when she looked up at Trey, he lifted his chin. “Go.”
Sloane nodded and smiled before walking across the lot. She was a few feet away when Trey heard her utter those fateful words.
“Hi, Gunner! Can I just say one thing?”
Trey rolled his eyes and tugged on Dahlia’s hand, leading her to the opposite end of the parking lot. Before he made it to the SUV, one of his men reached out, opening the door.
“Get in.” Trey gestured to the backseat, but Dahlia made no move. “Dahlia.”
She squeezed his hand and moved closer, ducking her head and brushing her hair against his suit.
“I’m sorry about this. It was not how I intended this night to go.”
“What did you expect?”
She shrugged. “A couple drinks, a few laughs, and maybe some dancing.”
Trey clenched his jaw, motioning for her to get in the car. Surprisingly, Dahlia got in without another word. Trey took a seat next to her and sighed. He was counting down the minutes ’til the night was over.
Trey cupped his jaw, staring out the window. Seconds later, he felt her fingers trail over the back of his hand. He couldn’t explain it or even understand it fully, but her touch had an instant way of easing his tension. He clasped his hand in hers but remained silent as they drove back to his apartment. He wasn’t giving her an option. She was staying with him. Secure and protected.
The ride was longer than expected with the traffic. Usually, Trey welcomed the silence, but he had too much on his mind. Dahlia remained silent during the ride but inched closer to his side. While Trey didn’t outwardly acknowledge her, he allowed her into his space.
They entered his apartment in silence, and he went directly to his bedroom, ripping off his tie.
“I’m sorry, Trey.”
He sighed. “Stop apologizing.”
“But I’m the problem, right?”
What? Trey furrowed his brows and turned.
“Oz asked if you saw the problem. He was talking about me, wasn’t he?”
Yes, but not how Dahlia was taking it. The problem wasn’t her. It was her position as Trey’s woman without any knowledge of his true identity. It left her vulnerable and clueless through no fault of her own. It was his job to protect her and keep her out of situations where there was potential danger. He’d failed tonight.
“You’re not the problem.” He pulled off his jacket, not even bothering to hang it up, and then took off his shirt, tossing them both onto the chair in the corner.
“Still mad at me?”
