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I stared at him, the bottom dropping out of my world. “Are you serious?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sorry. The owner filed a complaint. He has to sort it out.”
Twenty minutes later, I was grateful I wasn’t going to jail but horrified to watch my car get loaded onto the back of a tow truck. My phone vibrated in my messenger bag where I’d stuck it while trying desperately to reason with the cop, and I groaned when I tugged it out and tapped the screen.
Colt: My wife would be able to use one of my cars, dependent on good behavior.
What a manipulative monster! I shook my head and sighed when I realized I’d left my sandwich in the car as the tow truck started pulling away. My stomach growled, and I pouted, which did me no good because no one was here to care.
“Uh, I don’t normally do this, but can I give you a lift somewhere?” The cop flashed a friendly smile.
“No, thank you,” I mumbled. “Thanks.”
He nodded and wandered off toward his cruiser.
No, I needed time to think, so I started walking. It was dark by the time I stopped at the end of the bridge that crossed the lake to Vert Island and rested my elbows on the railing. I stared out through the wire mesh that kept people in my situation from making terrible decisions. I’d just started the fall semester of my last year of school. Mom had left. If I didn’t go back to Colt, what would I do?
My brain didn’t churn up any helpful options.
There was only one thing to do, really, and it gave me a sick little tingle to imagine what Colt might want me to do in the bedroom. He’d mentioned breeding me. I licked my lips. I had a thing for cum so that wouldn’t be too bad, right? I could imagine the thick warmth running out of my ass and down my thighs.
“You’re really considering this!” I shook my head. Yeah, I guess I was. I dragged my bag around and rooted through it. Mom had always called it my purse, jokingly, no matter how many times I’d told her the pink leather satchel was a messenger bag. I hauled out a small compact and my eyeliner and went to work.
He might want a wife, which was laughable, but I did enjoy makeup. I’d been terrified to wear it around him, though, because he was such an alpha male I’d thought for sure he would punch me or yell at me for it. Shrugging, I blinked at myself. My hazel eyes looked bigger, sexier. I swiped pink lipstick across my mouth and pouted.
Yeah, okay, I liked looking good, but I wasn’t a woman. He could shove all that shit. Princess. Wife. Who did he think was going to let him get away with that?
But I could take care of his cock while I was earning my degree, if that was what he wanted.
With a huff, I marched away from the beautiful view toward Colt’s ridiculously huge house that I’d stupidly begun to consider home. Well, that would teach me to think anyplace was safe. I knew better. I’d always known better. It would be hell, now, but I could do anything for a year.
I could do whatever was necessary to survive.
Without Mom there, it might actually be easier, even if he expected me to cook and clean like a psycho. Guilt swamped me, but I stomped forward toward my doom. I’d always done anything I needed to do, and until Mom turned up, that meant taking care of myself as best I could with the resources I had.
I touched my lips.
Whatever that meant.
3
COLT
I ROLLED my shoulders and craned my neck to smooth out the kinks that irritated me as I stretched my legs on the red leather ottoman that went with my wingback chair. I had another tumbler of whiskey clutched in one hand, my phone in the other. A warm sensation filled my gut, and I savored the feeling.
It was the end of the week, which meant I could relax as much as I wanted. Typically, my partner-in-crime and best friend, Derek Uhlig, had me doing all sorts of things over the weekend because the underground world we ran didn’t sleep, but he’d told me to relax. We didn’t have any major events happening over the next week. No fight clubs, no fight-to-the-death games, and while the casino was open twenty-four seven, Derek had men he trusted taking care of it.
Recently, he’d gotten into this self-care kick, which I found hilarious, given our profession.
While Derek was the main boss of the operation, I was considered the second-in-command, and my primary role was finding sneaky ways to launder the obscene amount of money he raked in. According to the paperwork, I was the COO to Derek’s CEO. It was hard work but came with the benefits of good money and the pleasure of power.
No one knew what I really did. Not Bethany and certainly not Quin. They lived in the luxury of obliviousness, and they were lucky for it, too. They could spend my money and not deal with the nitty-gritty of where it came from. Or in many cases, not have the blood on their hands.
I smirked down at my phone as I waited for the call to come. It would, eventually. The New Gothenburg Police Department had already let me know that they’d retrieved my car, which meant Quin had no transportation. Eventually, it would become too much for him. He had nowhere to go, and I doubted he had many friends who had places he could crash.
He’d never brought anyone home, so there was no boyfriend, either.
The front door opened and closed, and I startled, glancing over my shoulder toward the entrance of the den. A moment later, Quin occupied the archway. I took in his appearance, from the stress lines that crinkled his brow to the new makeup he’d dabbed on his face. His lashes appeared darker and a thick line traced his eyes. His lips were pinker. Everything about him was softer. More feminine.
