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“Text me the address,” I told him. “Do you hear me, Olly? Text me where you are. I’m on my way.”
There was a curt, “Thank you.” And then, the line went dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Rosie
Lucas’s hand squeezed mine again.
He’d been doing that the whole ride, and I knew what it meant. He didn’t need to voice the words “I got you, I’m here,” because that gentle but fierce squeeze of my hand as it lay cocooned in his was enough. No. It was more than enough, really. Him being here, not hesitating to hail a cab without asking for the full story or details, and taking the reins of a situation I was having a hard time keeping up with was more than enough.
It was everything.
The image of the busted lip Olly had sported the last time I’d seen him flashed in front of my eyes.
God, what the hell have you gotten yourself into, Olly?
Lucas’s fingers squeezed mine again, and I thought he murmured something, something soothing, but all I was hearing in my head wasPlease, let him be okay. Whatever this is, please, please, please, let him be okay.
The taxi pulled up to the address Olly had texted, and I unclasped my fingers from Lucas’s grasp so fast that he couldn’t do anything to stop me from jumping out of the vehicle.
“Rosie, don’t!” He cursed. But I kept on walking. I was on autopilot.
His steps sounded behind me, quick, fast, as if he’d been running after me, and I felt like a jerk, because I shouldn’t have made Lucas run, not with his injury. But I—
He grabbed my hand and pulled at it, bringing me to a stop. He walked around me and faced me. “Don’t do that to me ever again, please.”
His hair was still wet. The clothes beneath both our coats were so damp, they weighed twice as much as they would have dry. He was probably feeling as cold as I did, and yet, I knew that wasn’t the reason why he looked so miserable.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, because I really was. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
I squeezed his hand and relief spread across his face.
With another sigh, I took note of our surroundings, the rumble of music in the distance indistinguishable. It had to be coming from the nightclub down the street, the one Olly had texted before. Pink Flamingo.
“Do you know this part of the city?” Lucas asked.
“Never been here.” I shook my head. “But it’s not exactly known for its good rep.” I paused. “There’s something I should probably tell you, Lucas.” He remained in silence, laser focused on me, waiting. “My brother… he had a black eye. A few weeks ago. And I…”
And I hadn’t done anything. Not a single thing. I’d let him walk away.
Lucas processed that information. Then, looked left and right. “Text him that we’re here. If he doesn’t answer, then we’re going to find him and get him out.”
I nodded my head, already inching toward the neon-lit entrance.
Lucas tugged at my hand. “You’re going to stay behind me, okay? I’m not playing overprotective hero, Rosie, but if someone tries to get close to you, don’t engage, yeah?” He patted his chest with his fist. “You stay with me.”
My throat worked. “But what if—”
“Ángel,”he said almost painfully. “I’ve traveled, stumbled upon people I shouldn’t have and got into a few ugly messes myself. So please, please stay with me. Just trust me with—”
“Okay.” I nodded my head. No hesitation. “I trust you. I’ll stay with you. I won’t engage.” His features relaxed. “But only if you don’t, either. I don’t want you to get into trouble, not because of me.”
Something shifted in his gaze and then, without giving me any kind of warning, he was brushing a kiss on the corner of my lips. “I trust you, too,ángel.”
And just like that, we were moving again.
Lucas stopped a few steps away from the neon sign. A bouncer stood guard, the door covered by a maroon curtain.
