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To my relief, he lets me walk inside alone.
* * *
I don't get a clear answer right away. Something about bank cut-off times. The man I talked to Tuesday calls me the next day—the day I'm due to pay my mother's debt.
I didn't get the loan. The banker talked a lot. Lack of liability, not enough income history, not enough income point-blank. He could give me five thousand on good faith—fifty was out of the question.
I take the five. At least I can offer them ten thousand and ask for time.
That time is going to cost me I don't know how much.
The banker thinks I should qualify for a student loan, but even if it covered the forty thousand, it wouldn't hit my account until they ran through my file, which could take weeks.
I stare at the card in my hand for long minutes before transferring everything in my accounts.
He has to accept it's enough for now, and that I'll work out the rest.
ChapterThirty-Three
It wasn't hard for Roy, my spy extraordinaire on a retainer, to work out what was going on with Morgan after I left her, ruffled and stressed out, in front of her bank. Unearthing every detail took him twenty minutes, tops. A personal best.
I consider just fixing Morgan's issue with a simple transfer to her account, as my need to see her safe and cared for is driving me hard, but I resist the urge. It's just too good an opportunity to pass up.She can't get out of this hole by herself, and she'll call me when she realizes it.
She'd better call me.
My fingertips tap on the table in front of my armchair, a tumbler full of scotch in the other hand. I only need a cat to look like a supervillain. Worse, I remind myself of my father, which means I'm one step away from becoming the psycho Morgan accused me of being.
"Seriously, what bug crawled in your asshole and died?" Roman is highly empathic, and covers his pathological need to ensure everyone around him is well with bluster, as usual.
"I'm fine," I lie.
My cousin sighs, not believing a word of it. "You need pussy."
His diagnosis is accurate.Iseriouslyfucking do. I'd go to the club and assuage my needs if I wasn't certain I'll get Morgan, and very soon.
She's cornered by sharks, the kind that’ll bite her a lot harder than me. I have more power, objectively, but the Russian mob her mother's entangled with? They'd literally shoot a bitch to get their point across, and she knows it.
I could go to her and offer her the out she desperately needs, but I took the first step, many times. I offered to sort out her school situation, her overall financial standing.
This has to come fromher.
I'm painfully aware of the fact that she has other options—Erica, for one. Her best friend offered her money just a few nights ago. There’s little doubt in my mind that if Morgan explains the mess her irresponsible mother thrust her into, Erica and Chase would come to the rescue in a heartbeat. And she could also decide to appeal to Trent.For her sake, I hope she doesn't.
I've been incredibly patient with her, given her a lot more freedom than I would anyone—anything—that belongs to me. But this is a crossroads for both of us. If she makes the wrong choice, I'll be done with the kid gloves, done with reason, done pretending to play by the rules of society. She joked about me kidnapping her last weekend. She'd learn the true meaning of that word. I'll cage her up in my world until she learns to love her chains.
I can't stop myself from shooting her a quick text.
Me: How's my favorite princess?
She doesn't even look at the message right away, and I know she's not at work.
"All right, that's it," Roman proclaims. "We're going out. Your leg is shaking."
I stop moving my leg. "I don't shake," I lie again.
But I do get to my feet. He's right, I can't stay cooped up in the house.
"Where are we going?"
