He leaned down and kissed me, slowly enough that I felt it long after he pulled away.
“Lock the elevator after me,” he said. “And you don’t have to worry about anybody coming up.”
I nodded. He stared at me for another second before nodding.
I followed him toward the elevator and watched as he entered the code. The doors opened, and Vice stepped inside before turning to face me.
“I’ll call you…”
“Okay.”
The doors started closing, but he stopped them with one hand.
“What?”
I frowned. “What?”
“You keep looking at me like you wanna say something.”
I thought about denying it, then changed my mind. “Come back in one piece…”
His face softened.
“I will.”
This time, I believed him.
Vice let the doors close, and I stood there until the elevator disappeared from the screen. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I had entered his condo with a suitcase and no idea how long I would be staying. Now I stood in the middle of his home, waiting for him to return, and leaving was the last thing on my mind.
17
VICE BLACKWELL
By the time I made it downstairs, Mace had already sent the address twice. The second message told me not to take forever, and I almost called him just to tell him to shut the fuck up. Instead, I got into my truck and sat here for a second, staring toward the private elevator before I started the engine.
Milan was upstairs in my home, waiting for me to come back.
I had more important shit to think about, but that didn’t stop her from crossing my mind. I wasn’t used to anybody waiting for me. Even when Simone and I were together, she had her own place and eventually got tired of waiting for me to make room for her in mine. Milan had been in my home less than a day, yet knowing she was upstairs felt more natural than it probably should have.
That shit should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t.
If anything, it made me want to handle whatever the fuck Mace had found and get back to her.
I started the truck and pulled out of the garage.
The address took me away from downtown and into an older neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. Mace’s truck wasalready parked across the street when I arrived, and he got out as soon as I pulled in behind him.
“You took long enough,” he said.
“It ain’t even been twenty minutes.”
“Felt longer.”
“That’s a personal problem.”
Normally, he would’ve had something smart to say back, but his attention had already returned to the small brick house across the street. The curtains slightly moved before going still again, letting us know whoever was inside had been watching.
“He been in there the whole time?” I asked.
