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“It seems stupid you sitting out on the street when I can help you. Come back to mine and get yourself cleaned up. My sister still has some of her stuff in her old room. She’s taller than you, but I’m sure you can find something of hers to change into.”
“Your sister, Hallie? Isn’t she a Cornell now?”
His eyes hardened at my words, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. I noted the reaction with interest. Okay, so he wasn’t a fan of his sister having married Tam Cornell. And there was me thinking they were all happy families now. Hadn’t that been the whole point of the marriage—so the Cornells and Wynters became one, and so owned a bigger territory than we did? But Marlon Wynter had been at the forefront of that happening, and now he was dead.
Could the alliance be falling apart?
It made me wonder if that had been the reason my father would have wanted Marlon Wynter dead? That was assuming he was even the one responsible, but it sounded like something he would do.
Jayden grunted. “Yeah, and she’s about to pop out another little Cornell.”
“That’ll be your niece or nephew,” I said.
He grimaced. “Linked to the Cornells via blood. Lucky me.”
I thought he was lucky to have a new baby in the family, but now wasn’t the time to press that on him.
“I don’t think I should be seen going to your hotel either,” I said.
He sighed with irritation. “Well, what am I supposed to do with you then?”
“You don’t have to do anything with me,” I snapped. “I’m not your responsibility.”
He frowned slightly. “Are you not? Then why does it feel that way?”
“Well, I’m not.”
I was tempted to hand him back his jacket, but I couldn’t—not with the torn strap. I also didn’t want to go stomping off in the middle of London at this time in the morning all alone after what had just happened. Those two men might still be lurking somewhere nearby.
I didn’t have my phone to request an Uber, or any money, or even my keys.
Shit. What was I supposed to do now?
He folded his arms over his chest. “Look. I’m not just going to leave you in the middle of London with a torn dress and no handbag or phone. I might be an arsehole, but I’m not that much of an arsehole. You’re coming back to mine. I’ll get you sorted out, and then we can figure out what to do with you.”
“Don’t I get a choice in the matter?”
“No. You don’t have any choice.”
The most frustrating thing was that he was right.
“Fine,” I muttered.
A black cab with its light on headed towards us down the street. Jayden stepped out and raised one arm to flag it down. I caught sight of the tattoos scrawling down the back of his hand and knuckles. He was in a suit, but the tattoos betrayed him for who he really was.
A gangster.
The cab pulled over, and Jayden stepped out into the road to open the rear door. He gestured for me to climb inside. Like he’d said, I didn’t exactly have much choice. I was self-conscious in his jacket and my heels.
The taxi driver glanced in the rearview mirror, and a frown marked his forehead. He must have seen the bloodied mark on my temple, but he didn’t ask if I was all right. Was that because he didn’t want to get involved, or did he know who Jayden Wynter was?
Exhaustion swept over me, and I closed my eyes for a moment. Then I thought of something.
“Can I use your phone? I need to put a stop to my card. Those arseholes could be drinking at my expense right now.”
“Of course.”
He handed it to me.
