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“Hmmm, interesting you say that…” another voice says, and I try to shuffle out of the firm grip. His hand clenches tighter. Dammit. I really wish today wasn’t a combat day. My limbs ache from being overworked. I don’t think I can even throw a decent punch right now.
Eli’s eyes widen in shock before finally looking away from me and over my shoulder. “What the fuck do you want?”
“That’s the big question, isn’t it?” A Zippo opens and snaps closed. “I’ve come to collect what is mine.”
Confusion overrides my panic. The man behind me lowers us to a single sofa, spreading his legs until I fall between them. His fingers sprawl over my belly and I still.
Eli’s face morphs to something entirely different. A little straighter and a little less lopsided with his signature grin. “No…”
The hand that’s still covering my mouth tightens.
“Oh… yes…” I look between the two of them, confused with the conversation they’re having. Maybe I was right in thinking that the person who was following us had something to do with Eli. I mean, Nial did say they’re part of some secret society cult thing that is pretty much the same as the mob.
Eli leans back in his chair, his eyes now never moving from the man on the chair opposite. He’s older—I’d say mid-forties, with graying hair on the sides and a constant smirk I wish I could rub off my skin. “Who knows?”
The old man holds his stare as he slowly raises his cigar to his thin lips. “No one outside this room.”
“You can’t,” Eli responds instantly, so fast I know for sure that they’re having a weird conversation.
“And why is that?” the man asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thigh. Maybe he wants Eli—why? I don’t know—but this has definitely got to do with him and not me, since it’s obvious Eli knows whomever he is.
Eli matches his stance, unbuttoning his suit jacket and leaning on his thighs. He lowers his voice when he answers. “Because you know who I am.”
The man seems to pause, as if he’s going to laugh. I mean, he’s going to laugh, right? Eli may have a shadow that hovers over him the same way it does The Brothers, but he’s still basically a child, and this man looks like he just climbed from the wilderness.
The man leans back in his chair. “Are you going to take it instead?”
Eli’s jaw clenches, and I reach up for the hand that’s covering my mouth, attempting to tear it away, but he only squeezes harder and he’s much stronger than me. Shit. I’m never wanting to be in this position again.
“Not yet—but yes.”
The man looks between Eli and me, his brows curved downward as if he’s trying to figure out what our situation is. I don’t even know what our situation is, so good luck to anyone else trying to figure it out.
“Done.” He stands, stubbing his cigar out on my carpet. Motherfucker. “I’ll be back when I’m ready.” Then he curls his finger and gestures toward the man who is holding me, and he finally releases his grip around my mouth, shoving me off him. They both saunter out of the kitchen and through the front door, slamming it on their way out.
“What the fuck was that about?” I look up at Eli from the floor, swiping the leftover dribble from my lip.
He smiles down at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing you have to worry about just yet.”
