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I dodge businessmen in suits and a tour group, hooking a quick right at the corner. I zigzag down one-way streets for a good ten minutes until I’m positive my chances of being discovered are squashed. My sides are heaving with exertion when I enter a park and fall onto a bench. Adrenaline tickles my ribs and I can’t help it, I’m kind of impressed with myself. I made a plan and executed it. And in the process, I surprised myself. Found out what I’m capable of.
Go Team Sienna.
The next few hours are all about me. I have some cash in my sock and use it to buy an ice cream, chocolate with rainbow sprinkles. I walk to the West Side and stroll along the Hudson, hopping up onto the Highline for a better view. If it seems like a lot of people—mostly men—are staring at me, it must be my imagination. I haven’t been out by myself in a long time. Maybe I just forgot how much folks like to people watch.
When the sun starts to go down, I’ve reached Greenwich Village and decide to take a rest on the stoop of a brownstone. Once again, I get the weird feeling every man who passes is looking at me just a touch too long, but I’m distracted from that concern when a young gentleman sits down beside me on the stoop.
“Hey there,” he says, winking.
I check the urge to look behind me, just in case he’s talking to someone else. “Hi.”
He sends a nod over his shoulder. “This is my house.”
“Oh!” I shoot to my feet and his gaze climbs my bare legs with interest, flaring in a way that makes me uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I was only going to sit here for a minute. I’ll just—”
Before I can walk away, the man stands, as well. “No, please. It’s fine. It’s obviously my lucky day.” He comes a little closer and winks. Again. “Come on inside. I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
“Is there a new private school around here?” he interrupts, looking me over with an indiscernible expression. “I don’t see many girls in this particular uniform. And for damn sure, none of them look like you, sweetheart. Not even close.”
Alarm flares in my belly and I back away toward the main avenue, but he follows.
“Come on, I can pay you. Whatever you want,” the man says in a low urgent voice, reaching for my arm. Grabbing it. “Just lift up the skirt and let me jerk off on those legs—”
Tires screech.
The sound is so loud, I jump a foot in the air, dislodging the man’s hand. My gaze flies to the street to figure out what’s happening. There are four black SUVs—the kind my bodyguards transport me in—and I know I’ve been found. What I don’t expect is Grant to lunge out of the first SUV and let out a roar. It’s earsplitting enough to send everyone on the sidewalk scattering and make me stumble back a handful of steps.
His tie is loose and askew, hair in disarray, eyes wild.
In that moment, I realize I was quite mistaken.
My stepbrother still cares for me a great deal.
“Uh oh,” I whisper. “I’m in trouble.”
“What?” says the man next to me, his voice shaking in fear. “You know him?”
“Don’t speak to her,” Grant growls, having reached the sidewalk. He wastes no time winding up and driving his fist into the man’s face—and the guy goes down like a sack of potatoes, blood spraying onto the ground. Grant doesn’t stop, though. He reaches down and jerks the man up by his collar, getting in his face. “No one touches her. No one. You’ll die for your mistake.”
“Grant, no,” I breathe, jumping into action. Even my high-powered stepbrother can’t dodge a murder charge. Probably. I hook my arm through his and try to pull him off, but he appears to be considering eating the man’s face for dinner. “I’m fine. Look at me. I’m fine.”
“Sienna,” he grinds out, without looking at me. “Get in the fucking car.”
Oh no. No way. He’s not going to order me around after he’s been missing in action for five days without an explanation. “Don’t talk to me like that,” I shout at him.
His head turns slowly in my direction, a single eyebrow arched. “Do you really want to test me right now, princess?” he rasps.
I cross my arms. “Yup.”
He throws the man to the ground with considerable force. Takes one step in my direction. And before I can brace myself, I’m dangling like a limp noodle over his shoulder. In another place and time, I might appreciate being face to face with the butt to end all butts, but not right now. All I see is red. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
