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We got out.
I respected Frank and his family, but the less time we spent around them, the less chance there was that something would go wrong.
A valet directed me forward, right up to the front steps of the house.
He reached for the handle, but I slammed on the lock button before turning to Shay. “You good?”
She nodded so quickly her brain must have rattled a little. “Yeah. I’ve got this. It’s fine.”
“You keep your head down, you stay out of trouble, we do what needs to be done, then we make a quick exit,” I explained quickly. “Yeah?”
She sat taller, plastering this beautiful fucking smile on her face and brushing her hair back behind her shoulders. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
That’s my girl.
Chapter Twenty
SHAY
“May I?”
Bishop’s fingers pinched at my hip, and I swallowed hard, glancing back over my shoulder to find Frank Martelli, his hand extended.
“I don’t—”
“Sure,” I interrupted, directing a warm smile at Frank before turning and hitting Bishop with a pointed look. “I’m sure Bishop won’t mind entertaining himself for a few minutes.”
For how important it was that we pull this shit off, Bishop was being awfully protective. While I was glad he wanted to keep me safe, I was scared it was starting to look suspicious that he wouldn’t let anyone come near me without him.
I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t trust me to do what needed to be done or that we were really in that bad of a situation that no matter what I did, shit was going to hit the fan.
But either way, I wanted him to see that I could do this.
I could be the kind of woman an MC president needed at his side.
And that meant being strong enough to walk away with the enemy—no matter how scary or dangerous that might be.
I stretched up onto my toes, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.
His arms circled my waist, holding me there. “Be careful. Remember what I said.”
Frank Martelli may come off as a sweet, older gentleman, but I’ve seen the remnants of what he will do to someone who makes a fool of him.
Right. Sweet grandpa type on the outside, ruthless killer on the inside.
“I’ll be okay, now let me go,” I whispered, feeling his reluctance to hold me a little tighter before finally allowing me to slip free. It was hard to step back and pull away from this man when I’d spent so long wondering how it would feel to be wrapped up in him just like this.
I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t real.
Bishop had made that clear earlier, and we both just needed to make it through.
Turning, I instantly placed my hand in Frank’s, dipping slightly into a curtsey which brightened his face dramatically before he led me away. “You don’t have to bow in my presence,” he said with a low chuckle.
“Sorry, sir—”
“Or call me sir,” he added, finally stopping in the middle of the dance floor. “Frank is fine, my dear.”
“Of course,” I conceded, laying my left hand on his shoulder while his right reached for my waist. His touch was surprisingly gentle, without tugging me forward or letting his hand float a little higher or lower, and the space he left between us was respectful but not awkward.
