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I found myself stiffening in her presence, and when I did, she blinked.
“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked.
What was going on?
I exchanged a look between my grandfather and her again, my mouth dry. I looked at her. “I need to leave.”
I angled around them, not knowing what she was fucking playing.
It was all a lie, a lie, and I needed to get the fuck out of there.
I ended up outside, straight walking. I was aware of steps behind me, and considering how light they were, they had to be Sloane’s.
“Dorian, wait!”
She’d obviously just confirmed that, but I wasn’t turning around. The parking lot was a clusterfuck of cops and traffic, a great place to be. My grandfather wouldn’t be able to try anything here.
“Dorian, please wait. Your car?” She sounded like she’d stopped, her voice farther away. “It’s at the cabin, remember?”
She was right, of course. It’d been left at the cabin because I’d been arrested.
And you’re a fucking idiot.
I was at a standstill, completely giving Sloane an opportunity to come around me. She stood there in her high-top shoes and the shorts that gave me nothing but her ass cheeks when she flashed it at me. I was still drawn to her.
And I hated myself for it.
I’d been a complete dumbass to be fooled by her, and when she stopped in front of me, she had her hands up. Cheeks flushed, she appeared to be more panicked than winded.
As if she cared.
As if all of this shit wasn’t a fucking lie and presented by the devil himself, my grandfather.
It took all I had not to bowl through her at that moment, and it was a good thing she kept her distance. I didn’t want to do the opposite of what my father and mother had taught me.
Even if she had played my ass.
“Let Callum take you home,” she pleaded, and I winced at her referring to my grandpa in such a way. She said it so innocently. As if she didn’t know at all what my grandpa was to me. She raised a hand. “He can take you. You don’t have to…”
“She’s right, son.”
I swiveled around, my grandfather still on the steps of the precinct. He had his cane still in hand, his chin lifted. He appeared as nothing but the savior he’d clearly wanted to come across as.
He gestured to a man who came out of nowhere, right near Sloane and me. This was a big guy, wearing all black down to his gloves. He came off as nothing but a hit man, but the billed hat gave me an indication.
“My driver, Lucas,” Grandpa Prinze said to me, coming forward. “Just tell him where you want to go. He can take you anywhere.”
Lucas took off his hat, and I noticed right away where his hand went.
It settled right on his jacket.
“Is it home for you, then, sir?” he said to me, but his hand didn’t leave that area. The gesture was more than telling. This guy wasn’t merely a driver.
He was a fucking goon.
Odds were my grandpa wasn’t trying to tango with me, not after I’d tried to off his ass. This guy Lucas was no doubt strapped to the nines.
“Dorian.”
