Page 100 of Filthy Deal


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“My wife, Mia, is bringing you some necessities, including a new phone.”

“Because Eric’s like a brother to you and you’re protecting me to protect him.”

His eyes warm with that statement. “Eric is my brother.”

Brother.

That word radiates through me and I walk to the bar myself, refill my glass and down it again. “I believe he’s hit a limit,” I say when Grayson offers me his glass to fill. “If you really love him like a brother—”

“I do,” he says, taking the whiskey in my hand from me.

“Help me stop him.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know, Grayson. I just know if he does this, he’ll lose sleep. He’ll feel pain over it. Even if he doesn’t get caught—”

“I wouldn’t get caught.”

At the sound of Eric’s voice, I whirl around to find him standing a few feet away and relief washes over me. He’s back. He’s already back.

“And I told you, Harper. I would sleep just fine if he were dead, but I don’t plan to kill him or anyone. That would be too gentle a punishment.” His cellphone rings and he pulls it from his pocket to glance at the number. His expression is stone, his entire body more stone than man, as he allows seconds to count down before he answers the call.

He takes the call, gives a clipped greeting, listens several seconds and then says, “When?” Another few beats pass and he adds, “I’ll be there.” He disconnects the line and cuts his stare, seeming to think, perhaps calming his mind a moment, before he says, “I’ll be back,” and turns and heads for the door.

Warning bells go off in my head and I run for him, planting myself between him and the door, watching him slip into a jacket. “Who was that, Eric?”

“My father.” He opens a drawer to the foyer table, pulls out a gun, checks it, and sticks it in his pants.

“You need a gun?”

He faces me, his stance wide. “Would you rather me go without one after what happened at the warehouse?”

“You’re not going to meet him. Not tonight. Sleep this off. Think about what comes next.”

“I don’t need to think.”

“You aren’t going to meet him.”

“Yes,” he says. “I am.” And once again, he sets me aside, opens the door, and leaves.

I try to follow, but Savage steps in my path. “Sorry, honeybunch,” Savage says. “I can’t let you leave.”

“Move, Savage, or I swear, I’ll hurt you.”

“You do appreciate the ridiculousness of that statement, I’m sure.” He steps back just enough to indicate another man with sandy brown hair and lots of muscles, standing beside him. “I brought back-up. This is Smith. He’s going to be your regular doorman.”

Smith gives me a nod, confirming that I’m outnumbered. I grimace and turn back to the apartment. Grayson appears in the foyer. “He went to meet his father. He won’t kill him, right?”

Grayson’s eyes darken. “That’s not his plan.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s the only answer I have for you.”

Chapter sixty

Eric

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