I set the diamond ring next to his watch. Then I start to strip down, hanging my clothes over towel racks. “Was there one thing that made you decide to quit using drugs?” I wonder not only because I’m curious about him, but also because I’m still trying to figure out how to help Monet quit for good.
“It was two things close together. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. Ask me again in a couple months. Earn the right to hear my stories by staying with me.”
I’m examining the cut in my eyebrow when he says this. “If I survive one week with you, I think I’ll have earned some stories.”
“Fair enough.” He catches my face in his hands and kisses me. When he speaks, his voice is little more than breath against my lips. “I’m so fucking sorry you got hurt.”
That makes my heart clench. “I know.” I raise his hand and kiss his scraped knuckles, tasting blood and chlorine. Jesus. “I’m all right.”
“You stayed calm the whole time. I’m proud of you.”
Those words warm my whole body, and I smile. “Zoe said you jumped down from the balcony like a Hollywood stunt man. I thought you only show off when I’m watching?”
He flashes a smile. “You heard about it, didn’t you?”
Turning serious, I rest my head against his chest for a moment. “Scary night.”
“I guess I should’ve warned you. I didn’t want you worried, so I planned to keep you right next to me so you’d be safe. Things didn’t go to plan.” He steps into the shower. “How did you get downstairs?”
My stomach lurches at the question. “Hmm?” Stepping under the shower too as he turns on the water, it drowns us out, coming down as a waterfall.
He soaps my body, running his hands over my skin until there’s an ache between my legs.
“You were in line for the bathroom. Then you weren’t. How’d you get downstairs?”
I consider lying, but know it’s not a good idea. “I went downstairs.”
“You skipped using the upstairs restroom?”
My heart thumps, and I step forward and away from his hands.
“Because,” he continues in the same neutral voice. “I’m wondering if you actually needed to use it? Or if that was an excuse to step away and then search the house on your own?”
“Connor McCann was not happy to see me with you. He doesn’t like me, and I don’t think Anvil Stroviak does either.”
“So you lied?”
“It was a white lie to avoid an awkward social situation. And to get on with what I was doing there.”
“Monet and Dini Ford’s dealer, a former classmate of theirs, works for the Palermo organization. Enzo thinks we took some things from him. Like his little sister. And his father.” Trick lathers his arms and chest, and a part of me wants to take over.
“Enzo’s in Coynston to reestablish their position and that means being seen looking like the prince of the city and settling scores with C Crue. Anvil and C weren’t there because they give a shit about a house party on the hill. We’ve thrown parties for a thousand people in Boston, where the headlining DJ and artists were from New York, LA, and Europe. Random Coins parties don’t make the grade these days. So C and Anvil were at that house for one reason. Zoe wanted to go, and she doesn’t go anywhere in Coynston without protection. Understand now why I told you to stay with me?”
“And you want me to live here with you? While I’m pregnant?”
“I’ll make Coynston safe for you. Until then, stay close to me when I tell you to.” He tips his face under the water and rinses the soap from the rest of his body. Then he steps out of the shower and grabs a towel.
Another reminder of how dangerous it is to be around him. Is being with him worth giving up my freedom? When I’m close to him, it feels like the answer is yes. But I’m not sure I’m capable of being a C Crue woman even for a year and a half, which is all he’s offering.
Tonight I didn’t want to stand around making small talk with his friends who don’t trust me, all while my sister might be passed out in a corner or God knows where. Still, I know I should have been honest with him, not snuck away. It just felt easier to not tell him, since he seemed to want to control our movements. He literally pulled me upstairs with him. Of course, when I did venture away on my own… my finger touches the small scrape on my face. Hitting my head knocked me unconscious. What if he hadn’t seen me get thrown in? Would I have drowned? Of course, why did the man throw me in? To get to Trick.
I stand under the hot water for a couple of extra minutes before stepping out and toweling off. We go down the hall wrapped in towels, which feels strange, but the hall’s thankfully empty. The guest room is lovely and luxe, and there’s a bathrobe and some other clothes in a small, neat pile at the foot of the bed. Included in the clothes is a sheer pink nightie with thin straps. My brows rise. The clothes must be from Zoe, since Rachel’s too petite for them, but what would make the girl think I want to borrow her lingerie? Remembering how drunk she is, I smile. Probably just grabbed a variety. Setting the nightie aside, I lift the yoga pants.
Trick takes the clothes away and sets them on the dresser. Then he sits on the end of the bed and wags a finger at me to come to him. Unhooking my towel, he drops it on the bed next to him.
“Face down,” he says, pointing at his lap.
Though of course I know we’re alone, I look around sharply. My arms cross my body protectively. A part of me wondered whether this would happen.
