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“I had a feeling that was coming.” He slows at a red light, tapping the wheel with one hand, stroking his beard with the other. Thinking. Weighing up the pros and cons.
“I’m worried,” I go on.
“Me too.” He looks at me. “But if anything happened to you under my watch, I’d feel pretty bad about that.”
“What could happen, Fury?” I ask. “You take me to the hotel, I check on Brad, we leave.”
“What could happen?” He laughs. “Pearl, you sweet thing. You aren’t in the normal world anymore.”
I’ve never been in a normal world. “I know that, Fury.”
He regards me with a curious eye, and I wilt in my chair.
“I’m worried,” I repeat. “Nothing more.”
“He’ll be fine.” He pulls off from the lights, and I deflate, resisting protesting. “Brad does what Brad does. And he’s doing it now. He’ll come out of it when he’s ready.” Except they don’t know everything. I know Fury would never knowingly put any of us in danger.
I bite at my lip, glancing down at the cup holders between us where Fury’s dropped the keys for the car. It wouldn’t be his fault if I gave him the slip.
I bide my time, looking ahead at the road, watching for cabs. I see one in the distance, and like they know I need it, the lights up ahead change to red. Fury slows down, and the moment the car’s stopped, I reach for the button on the dashboard to turn off the engine then grab the keys, jumping out.
“Pearl!”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I dash across the road, waving an arm for the cab to stop, praying it’s free. My heart leaps when I see the blinker come on. He pulls over and I hop in. “The Four Seasons,” I blurt, slamming the door. I look back as the cab pulls away, seeing Fury in the middle of the road, arms up in the air, a face full of . . . fury. And today I learned why Fury if known as Fury. Murderous. “As quick as you can,” I say, resting back, staring at the screen of my phone as Fury’s name flashes angrily at me. I don’t ignore him. “I’ll be okay,” I say when I answer.
“I’m pissed.”
“I could see that.”
“Pearl, my car is at the lights, abandoned, and I have no way of moving it.”
That was kind of my point. To buy myself some time. Fury knows that.
“With a trunk full of guns.”
“Oh,” I breathe, cringing.
“I need those keys, Pearl, and I need you to get your ass back here under my watch.”
“Okay,” I say, if only to appease him. I hang up and send a mental prayer to the skies that the police don’t stumble upon Fury before I can get the keys back to him.
* * *
Ten minutes later, the cab pulls up, and I lean forward, handing the driver triple the fare and Fury’s keys. “I need you to take these keys back to where you picked me up from.”
The cabbie frowns as he accepts the money and the keys. “And give them to who?”
“There’s a big, angry-looking Viking by an abandoned Mercedes. You won’t miss him.” I hop out and look up at the tower. My heart speeds up. I take the steps and enter the vast lobby, glancing around as I wander through.
“Can I help you?”
I turn toward the voice, finding a mature man in a pristine gray suit. He’s looking me up and down. Concluding that I don’t belong here. “I’m here to see Mr. Black,” I say, making my voice strong and my back straight.
He blinks, surprised, and takes me in again, from head to toe. He’s thinking I’m not Mr. Black’s usual type. “Oh, I see, a guest of Mr. Black’s.” He clears his throat and looks around the lobby, before smiling brightly and sweeping an arm out. “This way, miss.”
“Thank you.” I let him guide me to the elevators, call one for me, and hold the door while I step inside. He presses the button for the twenty-ninth floor. “Enjoy your stay, miss.”
I stare at him, my heart heavy. I’m a part of the process. How many women has he shown up to the twenty-ninth floor in the past forty-eight hours? I rest back against the wall, closing my eyes to stop the building tears from escaping.
