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Discarded Like Rubbish
Tyler
Seattle, Washington
Tap! Tap! Tap!
I tapped on Dillon’s tinted window.
“Dillon?” I tapped again. “Dillon. Open the damn door.”
He sat upright in his seat, looking disoriented. Then he looked over at me and quickly unlocked the doors.
“Thank you.” I slid onto the passenger seat.
“Where’s your rental car?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “It’s not in the alley where I left it.”
“Well, perhaps you’re still high from last night’s weed binge and forgot. I’m more than happy to send the guards to find it.”
“It’s been stolen,” I said. “The renter’s manual was the only thing left of it on the street.”
“Well, that’s quite unfortunate.” He looked torn between laughing and raging. “What about the gorgeous woman you were with? Is she the one who stole it?”
“No, and I don’t know what gorgeous woman you’re talking about.”
“The one who left those red marks and scratches all over your neck.”
“It’s not ringing a bell.” I turned up my collar to conceal them. “Then again, she’s a psychopath and we don’t need to discuss her ever again.”
“Noted.” He nodded. “You’ve got about ten hours before we have to head back to London. Where else would you like to go?”
“I need you to drive by Rogue Publishing one more time.”
“Why? You’re returning to work there permanently in a few weeks.”
“I need something to distract me from last night.”
“As you wish.”
He drove off, and I realized my watch wasn’t on my wrist. Chloe still had it as “collateral.”
Fuck.
I made a mental note to bring that up later and spotted a thin strip of paper sticking out of my trouser pocket. I tugged on it until it gave.
It was our photo booth reel from The Great Wheel.
In every frame, Chloe was pressed flush against my chest, the top of her cleavage exposed to the chilly night air. Her puffy pink lips were wide open mid-laugh, and her dark brown curls twisted between my fingers.
As tempted as I was to rip evidence of our evening to shreds, I tucked it into my blazer to keep.
Temporarily, of course.
