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Had to make a run. Don’t fucking leave.
—L
“Don’t fucking leave,” I mimic as I crumple it up and throw it. “Ugh!” He’s such a jerk! I wish I never ran into Francesca Vaughn, never showed up at that stupid gala, and I wish I never met him! I stalk back through his house and throw myself onto his bed.
I wish I could rewind time. Never steal her invitation. Remain the passive, plain associate journalist no one paid attention to. Speaking of work, I wonder if I’ve been fired. I haven’t had my phone all week, so who knows if Craig has attempted to call me. Or fire me over email. I wonder if anyone has fed my fish? Poor guy. He’s an innocent victim in all this.
Once this is all over, I still need a job to go back to, so I decide to get up and shower, then disobey Logan because he’s a jerk, and head into work in hopes I’m still employed. Once I tell Craig my story, there’s no way he’ll can me.
I take a shower, smelling Logan’s shampoo, then become angry that I miss him. How can I even care about someone who’s nothing but rude and heartless to me? Because he’s all sorts of bad boy hotness. Not the point. Shuffling through my backpack, I slip on a cotton maxi skirt and decide to pair it with one of Logan’s black t-shirts. If he notices one gone, he can consider it a parting gift. Along with the two hoodies I’ve stolen. I open his top dresser drawer and take a shirt out, bringing it to my nose and inhaling. God, Addy, you’re pathetic. Shaking off my moment of delirium, I toss it on and tie the bottom into a knot because I don’t want to look like a complete hobo when I beg to keep my job.
My mood is sullen as I look around Logan’s place one last time and open the front door to—“Jesus almighty!” I yelp when a person is standing there.
“Not Jesus, baby, but you can call me whatever you like.” My stomach turns at Chino’s comment.
“Not a chance. Logan’s not here, so if you’ll excuse me.” I try side-stepping him, but he moves in front of me. “Move.”
“Can’t. Got orders.”
“And like I said, Logan’s not here. Feel free to wait inside for him.”
I start to move again, but he grabs my shoulder. “Not here for Logan. Here for you.” His crude smile sends a tremor of unease down my spine.
“Get your hands off me,” I hiss, but he only laughs.
“Don’t worry, princess. I have strict instructions not to harm you in any way. That’s my boss’s job.” He latches onto my arm and pulls me off the stoop toward his car. Don’t get into the car, Addy.
“I’m not going with you—” I grunt as he opens the door and shoves me inside. So, I guess I’m getting in the car. When he rounds the vehicle, I try to escape, but go figure, the child locks are on, and I’m trapped. “Come on!”
Chino climbs in and turns the key over in the ignition.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
He speeds through the streets until we’re back in the chaos of the city. He finally pulls up to what looks like a small brownstone. “Vincent is meeting us here?”
“Shhh…no hints.” He jumps out and comes around to my door. I’m hesitant to follow. Something doesn’t feel right about this. My mother always told me to trust my intuition, and right now, it’s telling me do not get out of this car. Chino opens my door and extends his hand for me to take.
“You know, I’m good—” Fudge! He grabs my arm and hauls me out. I stumble over my own feet, trying to jump up onto the curb and he drags me up the walkway. Jamming my heels into the ground, I stop and attempt to pull my arm from his grip. He releases me. “I can walk on my own, thanks.” I scoff at him and walk the rest of the way, my stomach twisting in knots. We make it to the front door, and he kicks it open.
“Ladies first.”
I’ve watched enough spy movies to know to never put my back to the enemy. So I’m not sure why I don’t take my own advice as I walk in first. The second I step over the threshold, Chino’s hands jam into my back and I go flying forward. I trip, slamming my knees on the tiled floor.
Chino laughs cruelly while I compose myself. “What the heck?” I snap, trying to get up, but he pushes me back to the ground. My hands skid, and a thick shard of glass slices into my palm. “Ouch!” I wail as searing pain shoots up my wrist.
“Oops. My bad.” He shuts the door and locks it, then walks over me toward the kitchen. I raise my head, eyes following him. The house is in shambles. Someone ransacked it, destroying everything. Looking across the room, I take in the shattered picture frames on the floor.
