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“Wait!”
The car screeches to a stop.
“Lady!” the cabbie snaps, turning to glare at me. “Make up your mind?—”
“There.”
I point through the window at a figure slipping out the side door of the building and raising his hand for a cab. Not just any figure.
Gabriel.
Gabriel, who literally just walked into the Crown and Black offices only to sneak out a side door and grab a cab less than a minute later.
Something’s going on. Or, maybe he really did need something at the office, and now he’s heading to Venom.
I bite my lip.
This is honestly a little pathetic, chasing Gabriel all over the city incognito on the off chance he’s going to Venom looking for “kitten”. But, I mean, the sex is next level. It’s insanely violent, and at times terrifying. But holy shit, it’s a thrill. And if he’s going to Venom to look for his silvery-lavender-haired submissive…
I frown. What am I really doing here? Following Gabriel because I want to get laid? Or am I making sure he doesn’t screw someone else tonight?
“Can you please follow that cab?”
“Miss—”
“I’ll throw another fifty, cash, on top of the meter.”
“A hundred, and you’ve got a deal.”
“Fine.”
I settle back, my thoughts swirling as we follow Gabriel. Less than five minutes later, I frown.
He’s still not going to Venom.
We drive across the Williamsburg Bridge into Brooklyn. Then deeper into the borough. Gradually, hipster bars and new condos turn into pawn shops and city housing, then grimy old warehouses and scrap metal yards as we get farther and farther from Manhattan.
“You can stop here, thanks.”
I swallow as we pull up to the curb. Two super sketchy blocks ahead of us, Gabriel gets out of his cab. He glances around before he slips down an alley next to a building.
“This is where you wanna get out?”
I nod as I pay the fare and then slip a hundred bucks through the slot for the driver.
“Look, miss, this ain’t an area where a pretty girl like you wants to be this late at night, not alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Lady—”
“Thanks for the ride.”
I step out, my pulse racing and my senses on high alert. Crossing the street, I walk up to the front of the crumbling old apartment building and glance up at the number on the front. I turn to a street sign and scowl, trying to think how I recognize this address, and why it seems familiar. Nothing comes.
Slowly, I creep around the side of the building and glance down the alley where Gabriel just disappeared.
The cab driver wasn’t wrong. This neighborhood is rough. And not well lit, either, with building walls graffitied with the tags of well-known violent gangs.
