Me: I wasn’t asking, but I’ll text you. And sober or not, I expect you to answer.
She doesn’t respond, but that doesn’t surprise me. I’m guessing she’s passed out, just as she predicted.
All I wanted was a small breakthrough. She gave me far more than that. I’d bet my life that she’s somewhere in Vegas, which means there’s a good chance she knows something about Balzano. SinceGage is already headed out west, Wells would want me to let him track Rena down. So, sneaking out under the cover of night is my only option. Because I’m the only one who’s going to get her.
Of course, there’s the tracking device in my neck to contend with. They could come after me or tell Axel where I went, which would essentially break my promise. But I solve that with a simple note left on the kitchen island.
I had to take care of something for a client in trouble. We all know you could hunt me down. But our tracking goes both ways. Come after me or share my whereabouts, and I take it out. You know how much you all mean to me, but this is something I need to do. I’ll be in touch.
As I’m headed out to my car, another text comes through.
Private: Bossy. I can work with that.
A smile breaks across my face, my cock jerking as I imagine various ways that could play out—not one of them a vision I should be entertaining. I’m so fucked.
Stuffing that in the back of my mind, I call in our private flight crew and head out to the airfield. I’m not sure what any of this means. It’s the most fucked-up, twisted, off-limits situation that I could have painted. She’s not just the Noires’ little sister. She’s the secret daughter of one of the KORT chairs. One wrong move, and I could get us both killed.
That’s a matter to reconcile later though.
Five minutes into my drive, my emergency line vibrates in the cupholder.
Private: To be clear, I know what information I gave up. I’m not as naive as people think. I’d like to see whatyou do with it.
A laugh rips from my chest.Dangerous vixen.
And there’s not a damn thing left to tether me to any realm of sanity.
The Little Moon summoned me.
I’m on my way, baby girl.
RENA
Me: My mother used to say that freedom was blueberry fields and rain.
Ty: Poetic. What does it mean?
Me: I think it’s where she believed she’d find her escape.
Ty: What was she escaping?
Me: Probably the same things we all are.
Ty: Enlighten me.
Me: Shackles.
Ty: I have too many thoughts regarding that to text them all.
Me: If I didn’t know better, I’d peg that as kinky flirting. Maybe we’ll double back to that later.
Ty: You think everyone is shackled to something?
Me: Your avoidance of my comment shouts that you’re bound and gagged. And not in a good way.
Me: But fine. If we’re not talking about headboards, then, yes, I think everyone is chained in one way or another.
Ty: Morbid.
