Page 60 of Riding Bare

I don’t speak immediately. I’m not really sure what to say or how to say it. I want to tell him the truth, but I also know that if I do, he’ll probably tell me I’m an idiot and tell Amos everything, which will ruin what we have. I’m not sure our relationship can withstand me being that big of an idiot.

“Promise me it’s between us?”

His lips twitch into a smirk, and he gives me a wink, then dips his chin in a single nod. But I don’t believe him. I know he’ll tell on me the moment he hears what I have done. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up, though, because there’s no way I’m going to be able to lose my brother and go to see Samuil.

I’m going to have to fess up and just hope he doesn’t tell Amos what an absolute idiot I’ve been.

I flick my gaze down to my lap, then bring my eyes back up to meet his, our gazes connecting before I begin.

“I went to see Samuil,” I confess.

I speak quickly in an effort to get everything out fast, almost as if it’s a Band-Aid that I need to rip off. The entire time, all I can think about is that I’ve screwed everything up. I’ve ruined my future with Amos. I just know it, and my chest tightens as I think more and more about it.

“Let me get this straight,” Gauge begins after a long moment of silence. “You went down to his office in Vegas, and then went to a café with him, where you promised him that you’d do anything.”

“Basically, that’s the long and short of it,” I mutter.

I can’t sit still for another second. Standing, I walk over to the window that looks out at the street. Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to find some comfort. My heart races and I try to breathe, but I’m not doing a very good job of it, because I feel like I’m going to pass out at any given second.

“Okay,” Gauge announces. “Let’s go to Vegas.”

Spinning around, I tip my head back slightly as my gaze slides up to meet his. He’s standing a few feet away from me, his hands on his hips and a smile playing on his mouth. I don’t know if I’ve just opened a gigantic can of worms or what, but my brother seems almost excited about this.

“Gauge,” I hiss.

“We’re doin’ it. I’m with you. This shit needs to be handled, and it needs to be handled sooner rather than later. And I’d rather be there when it is. No way in fuck do you need to be there alone.”

I agree. Though I don’t know what we’re going to handle, I’m more than happy to get it over with… that’s for sure.

CHAPTER

FORTY-EIGHT

CHASSIS

“This is where the Russian works?” Gauge asks.

I don’t even bother responding to him. Instead, I walk up to the intercom and touch the button that I know is connected to Samuil’s office. I expect his secretary’s voice to come through the speaker, but it doesn’t—it’s his.

“You ready to give me what I want?” he asks.

I don’t know what he wants yet. I told him I would do anything, but I regretted that the moment I said it. I don’t want to give him anything—not a damn thing. What I want is for him to rot in hell.

He used and embarrassed me. He wants me to do something that could ruin my life, because if it were something harmless, he’d have already told me instead of torturing me for days.

I might need him. I might be desperate for this to be over and done with. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to respond to him. That doesn’t mean I’m happy about where I am. I’m so not happy. I wish I were anywhere else.

In fact, I would take being alone in a room with Minty and that horrible Rocky woman over this any day. I don’t want to have this meeting, see that man, or be in this situation ever again, but here I am.

“I’ll buzz you and Gauge in,” he states.

I look back at my brother. His brows rise. He wasn’t expecting that either, so that’s something. I hear the door unlatch, so I reach for the handle and tug it open. I walk into the building with Gauge close behind me.

Moving toward the elevator car, I anxiously wait for the doors to open. Gauge stands close enough behind me that I can feel his presence. His silent support. The elevator car doors open before I can turn back to look at him.

Stepping inside, I smooth my hands down the front of my skirt. I don’t know why I’m wearing a dress. It’s not like I give a shit what Samuil thinks of me. He can go straight to hell, and maybe he will soon—one can only hope.

“Do I need to be worried about a fight when these doors open?” Gauge asks.