Frankie rolled her eyes at me. “Her old man ran offwith her savings.”
“Frankie!”
She gave Sayer a look. “All of it.”
I dropped my face into my frozen fingers. “It’s not abig deal. We have a job right now, don’t we? I can wait until we get paid.”
“How much did he take?” Sayer demanded.
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to tell him that. Theamount was sickening. I felt like puking every time I thought about it.
Sayer dipped his head and held my gaze. I wanted tolook away so badly. I really did. But I couldn’t. He had this frustrating way ofhypnotizing me. And getting the stupid truth out of me.
It would be easier to lie if I could look somewhereelse. Anywhere else.
But I couldn’t.
And I couldn’t lie to him. Which seriously rubbed methe wrong way.
Frankie said it was because he was always touching me.She claimed it was way harder to lie when you were turned on.
Obviously she was an idiot.
It wasn’t even like his touches were sexual. He just…I didn’t even know what it was about him. But when we were together, his handswere on me. His arm was around me or he was holding my hand or he’d pull meinto his lap in front of his entire crew and just expect me to sit there likeit was the most normal thing in the world.
And maybe it would have been if I was his girlfriendor if he’d admit he liked me or something. But I wasn’t and he hadn’t.
He’d kissed me once, five years ago, when I was tenand he was thirteen. But that had been the last time.
Now that I was fifteen and he was eighteen and we wereboth official employees of theVolkov, he’d kepteverything between us completely platonic.
Except for the affectionate touching.
And sometimes intense looks that made my knees buckle.
“A lot,” I finally admitted to Sayer.
“Her college money,” Frankie added.
I was going to punch her later. She was alwayscomplaining about being treated differently and how everyone was scared of her.Well, not me. I was definitely going to throat punch her.
“Fuck, Caro,” Sayer growled, jumping back from me.
The urge to cry pricked at the backs of my eyeballs,but I refused to let the tears fall. It was a hell of a lot of money, but Ishould have put it in the stupid bank. I should have hidden it better. I shouldhave had it better protected.
Instead, I’d left it where anyone could find it. Yeah,fine, it was in my apartment, in my room, hidden away in a spot that I thoughtonly I knew about, but my dad was in trouble. I knew that he was. He acted likeeverything was fine, but I knew he’d started gambling again.
Which was a dangerous thing to do for a bookie and anaddict.
“I’m going to get it back,” I announced to Frankie andSayer and Gus for good measure. “He’s going to pay me back.”
Sayer unzipped his coat and pulled it off his body,wrapping it around me. I closed my eyes against the sensation of warmth and hisscent still lingering in the lining. “Here, at least take mine for now.”
“Then you’ll freeze,” I pointed out weakly.
He shrugged. “I’ve been through worse.”
He always said that and we all believed him. WhateverSayer had gone through before he joined the syndicate had been hell. He nevertalked about his life before Fat Jack had found him on the streets. He’d wormedhis way into the syndicate by helping thebratvasteal an entire containerof Irish guns. But it was something you could tell about him just by looking athim, by watching him climb the ranks of the brotherhood faster than any Six hadin the history of organized crime.
