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Pulling Basil to the side, we turn our backs to her. I whisper into Basil’s ear, “Have some men post up around the building. I want around the clock security.”
“Got it,” he says, pulling out his phone, then heading to the front.
“Where’s he going?” Deanna asks when I turn back to her.
Moving closer to her, I reply, “Basil and I need to go take care of some things, but I will call you as soon as I can.”
“Alright”
Placing my hand on her hip, I draw her nearer to me. “Come lock the door behind me and set your alarm. If you feel like something is off, call me ASAP. Do not tell anyone what has happened here today. Not even Zoe.”
“I will for now. Zoe can sense when something is bothering me and has a way of pulling it out of me.”
I nod with understanding because Basil is the same way.
“You can tell her once we have this sorted out, okay?”
“Okay”
I couldn’t stop the urge to lean in a kiss her soft cheek. Deanna’s breath hitches from the action. Moving back, I take my hand from her hip, then lace my finger with hers. We say nothing as I lead us to the front door. Once there, I say to her, “I’ll be in touch soon. Don’t forget to lock the door and turn on the alarm.”
Releasing her hand, I exit. Basil stands in front of the store waiting on me.
“Let’s get to the warehouse,” I instruct as I pass him to get to my car. Somebody was going to give me some answers or they were about to pay with their life.
Chapter 8
Yiorgos
Ileft the bookstorewith one thing on my mind and that was to physically inflect pain upon those two dip shits until they told me what I wanted to hear. At the same time though, I’m wondering to myself why is it that I have inserted myself so much into what is going on with Deanna. Other than tonight, this is the fourth time I’ve seen this woman. I’m not going to say I’m a hit it and quit type of man but I’m never this invested in a woman I am interested in. Usually, we’ll have our fun time until I get bored, then it’s on to the next but something about Deanna makes me want to protect her with everything inside of me. Curious about the odd feelings coursing through me, I call my father.
I know it’s the wee hours of the morning in Greece, but I want to hear his insights on how I’m feeling about this woman.
“Γεια σας (Hello),” Father answers, sounding awake.
“Γεια σου, πατ?ρα. Ελπ?ζω να μην σας ενοχλ?. (Hello, Father. I hope I’m not disturbing you),” I greet back.
