“A little. My, uh…” I pause and for lack of a better word, choose the closest I can think of. “My boyfriend took me to his friend’sbirthday party, and it was okay, but I didn’t really know anyone. Then he just wanted to get laid, so I left.”
Guilt worms in my gut as the driver nods. “Men,” she mutters. “They’re all the same.”
I nod absently. “My brother was supposed to pick me up, but he’s not answering so I’m just… waiting.”
“I get you, honey. Well, this diner will be a damn sight warmer and safer for you to wait. I can’t believe your boyfriend let you leave all by yourself.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “He was completely out of it.”
The woman tsks to herself as if she’s sucking on her teeth, and less than five minutes later, she pulls up in front of a quiet diner bathed in warm, yellow light. “Here you are, honey. You hurry on inside, okay? And maybe break up with that boyfriend if he lets you wander like this. Find yourself a real man.”
“I will,” I reply softly as I slip from the car. “Thank you so much for this.”
“My good deed.” She chuckles. “Take care.”
Slipping from the taxi, I stay on the sidewalk as she waves at me and drives off. Then I hurry into the diner and take the booth farthest in the back so no one from the street can glimpse me. Everything I know about Bradley has me on edge. If he’s as powerful as he seems, on top of that team he’s with and everything else going on, then even a random person on the street could end up taking me back to him.
But I won’t go. Not without Peter.
The waitress finds me two minutes later and only sighs obnoxiously when I tell her I have no money but I’m waiting for someone. She brings me a pitcher of lemon water and returns to her counter, glued to her phone.
I mirror her by scrolling through to Peter’s messages and finding nothing but silence.
Where the fuck is he?
Setting my phone down, a napkin ends up between my fingers and I quickly tear it into a thousand tiny pieces to calm the anxiety rampant in my chest.
Where is Peter?
And better than that, why the hell did Bradley fuck me like that?
I’ve slept with enough people in my life to know men only care about getting their dick wet, but even now, my skin tingles with the phantom warmth of Bradley’s mouth and hands, the lingering tingles of his caress and the way he held my hand… I gaze down at my knuckles and picture his fingers weaving back between the gaps and holding on.
No one’s ever held me like that, or kissed me like that. If I close my eyes and focus, I can still feel his cock inside me, and that mouthwatering warmth leads me to the bathroom where I quickly clean up the damp from between my legs, wash my hands and throat, and attempt to tame my hair.
Fuck. How much longer?
Every minute I spend here waiting for Peter is a minute closer to when Bradley will wake up and come looking for me. He’ll likely find me in no time and I’ll be back to square one, only without a party invite to use for freedom.
A little after the first warm yellows of sunrise creep across the sky, Peter’s text drags me from the half-asleep lull I’ve ended up in. Covering a wide yawn with my hand, I glance at my phone to see a single message from my brother. An address followed by an order to hurry the fuck up.
[Zira] You take this long to text me back and dare tell me to hurry up?
[Peter] Just get here.
I roll my eyes and curse him out under my breath. The chances of finding another kind taxi to take me far without pay are extremely low, which means I need money.
Money that I definitely do not have.
Dishes clatter in the kitchen behind the counter where the waitress busies herself cleaning up and in her absence, my eyes drift to the till near the cake window.
It’s similar to one I worked with at my old job at a grocery store, and if the codes are the same, popping the till should be easy.
But stealing? Oddly, the thought of that gives me more nerves than stealing all those diamonds and my stomach somersaults. Maybe I’ve stolen too much, and my nerves are completely frayed.
Shit.
I need to get to Peter.
