“Not a problem,” he replies softly back at her.
She leans between the seats and places a kiss on his cheek, then glances at me and frowns. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Frankie. Your uncle is the one I’m mad at, not you.”
She offers me another sheepish smile then gets out of the car, her shoulders dipping in quiet disappointment at how wecan’t seem to get along. Kirill waits until she’s safely inside her building before pulling away.
And then we’re off to only God knows where.
“Stop the car, Kirill. Let me out. I’ll grab a taxi or an Uber from here.”
“That’s not happening.”
“If you think I’m going to tell you where I live, then you’ve officially lost your mind.”
“I’m not driving you home.”
“Then where are you driving me?”
“You’ll see.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, wanting to curse him out but knowing full well that none of my protests will work on him. I’m also a little bit curious where exactly he’s thinking of taking me.
But I don’t get the luxury of finding that out. Marcello must be pissed. The way I let Kirill manhandle me out of the car and into his club? I wouldn’t put it past my brother to be waiting at home for me this precise minute. He’ll have a million questions about what my relationship with Kirill really is, and none of them are ones I care to answer.
“Where’s your phone?” Kirill asks once we’re out of the city.
“Why?”
“Because you should tell your parents you won’t be home tonight.”
“Are you insane? That’s not happening. Not after the little show you pulled back at your club. Marcello is probably sitting in our kitchen, just watching the door, waiting for me to get home.”
“He’s got more things to worry about than where you spend the night, I can assure you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
But Kirill doesn’t answer. Instead, he keeps his eyes locked on the road, pressing his foot on the gas pedal like getting wherever he’s going faster will solve everything.
“I’m not calling anyone. At the rate you’re driving, the only thing I’m dialing for is an ambulance after you drive us off the road.”
His knuckles whiten around the steering wheel, but he slows down.
“I don’t care who you have to call, text, or send smoke signals to. You’re not going home tonight.”
“You can’t just boss me around, Kill!”
He smiles. “Funny, since I thought I just did. Make the call.”
I snarl at him but take my phone from my inner coat pocket and dial the one person who can actually cover for me without asking too many questions.
“Anna, I need a favor,” I say when she picks up.
“Is everything alright? You sound tense.”
“I’m fine. I just need you to cover for me with the parentals. I won’t be coming home tonight.”
“Okay, I can do that. I’ll tell them you’re pulling an all-nighter at the library for an exam.”
