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Kane? But why?
My brows tug together. “About?”
“I need to know if he was able to decrypt the flash drive we gave him.”
Holy shit, I’d forgotten all about the flash drive from the governor. It’s odd that Kane hasn’t brought it up both times he’s called.
“Just call him. Okay?” Brin leans in to give me a hug and I wrap my arms around her not wanting to let go.
She walks away to stand next to Damon’s friend before all three of them head in the direction of the staircase.
Damon pauses before they are far away then takes a few steps back to stand next to me.
Leaning in, he warns, “And when I said we’re not done, Blue, I wasn’t just talking about the thing with Brinley. I know you still have a lot of questions. I’ll be happy to answer them…”
With a finger, he pulls at the shoulder strap of my costume. “For a price.”
He winks at me and runs to catch up with Brinley and his friend.
I glare at his back.
Of course I have questions.
I still don’t know how he found out that stuff about my mom. Or if what he told me is even true.
It’s not like he gave me proof.
Also, why the hell is Brinley suddenly going along with them?
What is so important about the flash drive from the governor?
And the worst question of all—despite how much I hate Damon for what he’s done—there’s a small part inside me that still wants to know about his scars.
. . .
Although I usually love the music in the club, the dancing, the freedom, there’s another moment I love more than all … When the music stops.
It means I get to go home.
“Closing time!” the bartender calls out. He’s a new guy, hired within the past week or so. I think his name is Charles or Chris. “Everybody drink what you’ve got, then get out.”
The crowd begins to slowly disperse, and I leave my cage to run down the stairs.
About to make the turn to run to the dressing room so I can change, Granger steps in front of me, his dark eyes looking me up and down, hunger in his expression.
“You ready to give up yet?”
He’s dressed in a black button-down tonight, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal the corded muscle of his forearms. A glint of light bounces off his large silver belt buckle, his perfectly pressed black slacks doing nothing to hide the muscle in his thighs.
With a strong jaw, plump lips, and high cheekbones where the end of his black hair usually touches, Granger is a beautiful man.
It’s just everything on the inside of him that’s ugly.
“Give up on what?”
He tilts his head just slightly.
“You have to be out of money, Ames. I played along with your little independence game, but it must be getting old now. How many more Ubers can you afford before you lose your apartment?”
