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“I’m going out of town.” His biceps flex as he pushes into the frame, straightening himself up. “I’ll be back this evening.” He turns and walks away. Just like that.
“Where are you going?” I ask, pacing after him.
“Out of town,” he says without turning back, keeping up his stride to the door. “Esther and some of the men are here if you need anything.”
“What might I need?” I spit, getting angrier as I follow him.
“Well, it’s not me, obviously.” He stops abruptly in his tracks the second he’s spat out his statement, forcing me to stop too, or crash into his back. There was hurt in his tone. He didn’t mean to say that, or sound so indignant. But he’s wrong. I feel like I do need him, but I can’t have him. This is for the best.
“Obviously,” I confirm, taking one step back. “When can I leave?”
Danny turns, slowly revealing his hard, cut face. “Now.”
I recoil, his answer unexpected. Now? I can go now? His face tells me I heard him right, his eyes drilling into me with ferocity. “I want you gone before I get back.” He walks backward toward the door, never severing our eye contact. A horrible pain pinches at my heart. A nasty ache turns my stomach. This is it, and though I’ve begged for it, I’m all in a muddle now. And it has nothing to do with what Nox will do. Besides, I’m pretty sure I have the information he wants, anyway. My boy is safe. But Danny Black is not. No more rattling cages.
Next time . . .
I swallow down more lumps in my throat, feeling them hit my stomach hard. “Okay,” I say simply, ripping my eyes away from him as I turn and head for the shower. With every step, the pain intensifies, until I reach the bathroom door and look back.
He’s gone.
* * *
An hour later, I’m still sitting on the shower floor, bunched up neatly in the corner, hugging my knees. My skin is wrinkled, my body squeaky clean. Forcing myself to my feet, I turn off the shower and dry myself, pulling my wet hair up into a high knot. I can’t be bothered to dry it. I should just go.
Call Nox and have his men collect me. Not that I have an address, but I have no doubt Nox will know.
I leave the bathroom tidy and find my red dress, the one I wore the night Danny found me. I slip it on, grab my purse, and head for the bathroom to get the cell phone, turning it on. As I look down at the screen, I dawdle, my thumb hovering over the dial icon. An image of a boy is what has me pressing down and taking the cell to my ear. Every picture I’ve ever seen of him flashes through my mind, serving as the best reminder. It rings twice. Then I hear his voice, and before I think better of it, I hang up and start hyperventilating, having to take a seat on the toilet to gather myself.
I start to rock myself back and forth, my torso folding in over my knees. I can’t think clearly here.
I jump up and head out, jogging through his mansion until I reach the stairs. A man is standing at the bottom. I recognize him. Watson.
“Danny said I could leave.” I drop my shoes to the floor and slip them on.
“Yeah, I know.” Watson slides his hands into his pockets, tilting his head, looking me up and down. I should laugh. He wouldn’t have dared do that in Danny’s company. “Want a ride?” There’s a sinister edge to his question that puts me on my guard.
I straighten and pull down the veil of hardness. “I can take a cab.”
His dirty brown eyes take a quick scope of the entrance hall. He’s checking we’re alone. I back up and immediately damn myself for it. So I stop, pushing my shoulders back. In this dress, I should feel at home. My armor on and my hardness ready to take anything thrown at me. But I’m in Danny’s house, and I’m feeling like I’ve never felt until I met The Brit. Vulnerable.
“How about a parting gift?” he suggests, advancing toward me.
“You want me to fuck you?” I ask, looking him up and down, a curl to my lip. “No thanks. Even a whore like me can do better.” I see it coming. The slap that’ll put me on my ass. He wallops me with a force I’ve dealt with more than once, but now it hurts. I stagger back, tumbling to my backside. “I still don’t want to fuck you,” I sneer, throwing my hair back and looking up at him.
“You little whore.” He grabs my injured arm and yanks me to my feet, shoving me into a nearby wall. I hit it with force. That hurts too. Why the hell is everything hurting all of a sudden? I go to dart to his left, but my path is quickly blocked by a big arm braced against the wall. I pin myself to the plaster and hold my breath, fighting to find the shield that’ll protect me. Watson leans in, breathing all over me, his palm slipping up my inside thigh under my dress.
