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“I have a name,” I snapped.
“I’ll be outside.” Duke saluted me and then left me alone.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Slash demanded.
“Because I’m pissed and don’t want to say anything out of anger.”
“What are you pissed about?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“For one, Duke.”
“He’s there for your protection.”
“Yeah, I get that. It would’ve been nice if you’d talked to me about it instead of it being a surprise.”
“You would’ve said no, and I didn’t want to argue about it.”
“Not the point, Slash. You don’t just get to—and the credit card…”
“What about it?”
“You put it in my wallet.”
“You don’t have to use it,” he pointed out. “I just wanted you to know that you could. I don’t want you to do without.”
“I do fine. I did fine before you came along. You might not like how I was doing, but I was doing.”
“I want to take care of you. Why won’t you let me?”
“Where does your money come from, Slash? A Black AMEX is serious.”
He paused. “This is not the kind of conversation to have over the phone.”
“Agreed.”
“We’ll discuss it when I get home.”
“Which will be when?”
“About a week.”
A week to stew, or cool off. Possibly both.
“So, I’ve got a week of Duke following after me.”
“Yep.”
“Where are you now?”
“Amarillo. Savage called. The bedroom furniture has been delivered.”
“Okay.”
Slash sighed. “When I left, everything between us was good. Better than good.”
