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They’d been through a lot. So much had gone on. It’d been so overwhelming sitting downstairs earlier, listening to Zander handle threats and business negotiations as if they were nothing. Nobody really told Scotty who the men were who’d taken him and Vince, who’d been threatening Zander, but they were dangerous. He understood that clearly.
Dangerous and cunning.
To do all that they did—killing Zander’s men, snatching Vince and Scotty and stashing them in this Coney Island penthouse—all so they could blackmail Zander into a business deal? He’d thought his uncle was fucked up but these people were next-level ruthless. He was ready to get away from them.
He crawled out from under Vince’s heavy arm and got out of the bed, making his way to the bathroom, where he emptied his bladder, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth. Back in the bedroom, he got dressed, eyeing his men the whole time.
Maybe he should wake them up? The sooner they got away from their current location, the better. Right?
But in the end, he decided to let them sleep a little more. With their rumbling snores, they were clearly tired. He would wait until they woke up to insist that they got the hell away from this place. He left the bedroom, closed the doors gently behind him, and went downstairs. The place was still and quiet, so he hoped that meant Derri wasn’t around.
Scotty didn’t like him. Derri’s eyes were always filled with jealousy and anger whenever he looked at Vince or Scotty. He didn’t know if Zander noticed, but Scotty for sure did. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Derri.
Once downstairs, he heaved a sigh of relief to find it indeed empty. He padded to the kitchen on bare feet, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge before returning to the living room. He uncapped the bottle and brought it to his lips, only to stop in his tracks, frozen, when he spotted someone out on the balcony watching him.
Not Derri.
This person stood with his back to the nighttime view of Coney Island, hands in the pockets of his dark suit that contrasted with his white-blond hair. Ankles crossed, he stared into the apartment at Scotty through the open sliding doors.
Scotty hadn’t even noticed the doors were open!
When their gazes met, the other man winked and then straightened before striding toward him. Scotty glanced over his shoulder, panic quickening his breathing. Should he yell for help? Run and hide? What the fuck?—
“Scotty, correct?”
Scotty blinked. When and how had he gotten so close, so fast? “Y-yeah?” Eyes that were a weird blue, bordering on lavender, eyed him curiously.
“Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it while the three of you were sleeping upstairs.” He smiled. Jeez. He was the prettiest person, male or female, Scotty had ever seen, and he didn’t even meet Scotty’s full height. He was short and slender, giving off a vibe of dainty innocence at first look. But there was something about him, the twinkle in his eye, the way he stood, his presence, that put Scotty on edge.
“What—Who are you?”
“Come.” The man took Scotty’s hand, leading him to the couch. “You look like you need to sit down.”
He did need to sit down. But he also needed to get the hell away from this person who he didn’t know from a hole in the wall. Except his legs refused to cooperate, and his voice failed him, and somehow he found himself sitting next to a beautiful stranger who smelled so good and eyed him as if he knew every single one of Scotty’s secrets.
“So, how is he?”
“Hmm? Huh?” Fuck.
The man smiled, removing the water bottle from Scotty’s limp hand and placing it on the coffee table. “How is Vince? Still crazy?”
Scotty shook his head, trying to clear it. “You know Vince? Who are you?” His voice rose a bit at the end and he couldn’t help darting his gaze to the stairs, hoping Vince or Zander would hear him and come down to investigate.
The man watched him knowingly. “He tried to seduce my husband once.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I thought about killing him for that but I was practicing forgiveness that day.”
Wait, what? “I’m—I don’t?—”
“My name is Syren Rua-Ashby.” He patted Scotty’s hand. “I know you’ve never heard of me, but trust me, that’s a good thing.”
He was right, Scotty wasn’t familiar with his name. He swallowed. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
Again, the man—Syren—shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood, heard Vince was around, and decided to pay him a visit.”
“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” Scotty reached for him, grabbing the front of his jacket. To his credit, Syren didn’t bat an eye. “I won’t let you.”
“Hey, shh.” Syren pulled him close and stroked his hair. What the fuck? “No need to get all worked up.”
But he didn’t answer the question. “No!” Scotty wrenched away from him and jumped to his feet. “If you came here to hurt Vince, you’ll have to go through me first.” He didn’t know the first thing about this person, but he didn’t care. They’d been through too much. He was sick of the threats and the feelings of fear and danger that had been his constant since he’d come in contact with Zander and Vince.
