Chapter Fourteen
Connor
Her friend in Boston is the short, skinny, gay guy from the theater who propositioned me. I trust him to protect Zoe like I’d trust Bruno Mars to win a fight against Mike Tyson.
“Who wants avocado toast?” he chirps. “I know, I know, millennial cliché. But it’s good, right?” He takes a swig of lemon water and pushes a plate of toast covered in smashed avocado toward us.
“The security in this building seems decent,” I say, looking around the expensive loft.
“It is. Daddy’s got good taste.”
I don’t know if he means his actual father or a sugar daddy or daddy dom. I don’t ask. Every instinct has my hand itching to grab Zoe by the arm and haul her back to the C Crue stronghold.
Then she turns and smiles at me, and I’m tongue-tied for a second. I still don’t understand how she can have that effect on me.
“Thank you so much for bringing me, Connor. We’ll be really careful,” she whispers. “I’ll even text you updates, if you want?”
“Yeah, text,” I say.
Her friend tilts his head and smiles. “Aw, that’s so sweet. I love that!”
To him, I say soberly, “I’m leaving her with you. She’d better be safe here.”
He gasps and looks between us. “Wait, what? I thought this was just a fun little night out.”
“It is!” Zoe says to him. She lowers her voice when she speaks to me. “Do not freak us out. No one knows I’m here. I will keep it that way.”
“I’ll be at a downtown hotel tonight. Come and have dinner with me later.”
“C!” she exclaims. “How is this free time for me if you’re staying in Boston?”
“You said you wanted to stay with your friend. You’re staying with your friend. That’s all I promised you.” I look at the guy again. “Rico, seriously, keep her safe. We will not be good if something happens to her.”
The friend’s lemon water freezes halfway to his mouth.
Zoe scowls and shakes her head. “That is not okay, Connor.”
I shrug. “Best to warn people up front. Trust me on that.” I pull her to me and plant a possessive kiss on her lips. She lets me, but then pushes me away as I release her.
My heart is banging like a drumbeat as I leave the apartment. Zoe’s right. When it comes to the important things in life, I’m used to being in control. I know this thing between us is new, but I already feel like she’s mine. Turning her loose in the city alone doesn’t sit well.
She insisted on having her own car, which is a piece of crap, so that’s what she and I drove to Boston. Trick and Anvil drove one of the C Crue Range Rovers, and it’s idling on the street when I leave Rico’s building. When I open the passenger door, I find Anvil in the front passenger seat and the driver’s seat empty.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He said he’d be back. Didn’t say when.”
I circle the truck and get behind the wheel. There are dungeons in Boston and New York that Trick likes to play in, but I doubt he’d head to one without at least inviting us along.
“Did he go in the building?”
“No. He cut across the parking lot.”
“I thought he already put a GPS tracker on Zoe’s car.”
He did.
I pull out my phone to text him when there’s a rap on the window. I turn and find Trick standing next to the car, eating a hot dog. I roll the window down and cock a brow.
