“That’s all you have to say?” I ask a little harsher than I probably should, but I’m pissed. The fucker’s life is in literal danger, and he goes and gets himself drunk in the span of thirty minutes.
“You left.” Instead of sounding accusatory, he sounds devastated.
“I went to the bathroom,” I explain. “And then I got caught up chatting with a few people on my way back. I didn’t realize I’d need to stick to you like glue.”
“Will you?” I give him a questioning look, and he clarifies, “Stick to me like glue?”
“Come on, Mr. Mills. You’re needed elsewhere,” I say, motioning for him to step away from the bar.
When he does, he almost stumbles. The women hurry away from him as though he might fall on top of them. I, on the other hand, rush to him, grabbing his arm to steady him.
“I’m fine,” he mumbles. “I can do it.”
“I know you can. What if Iwantto hold your arm? Glue, remember?” I whisper.
He smiles, and I almost trip over myself at the sight of it.
I want to smile back, but I’m too afraid of what I got us into. Too afraid to lose him. Too afraid of the truth. Too afraid he may not walk out of that room with Peyton Radd.
“Why so somber, Miss Riley?” he asks, noticing my frown as we make our way toward the door.
“I fear you and I are too much trouble for one another.”
He shakes his head vigorously. “No,I’mtoo much trouble foryou. You’re perfect.”
I snort. “You’re drunk.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t make that statement less true.”
I pull Owen through the door and corner him against the wall, somewhat away from prying eyes. “Listen to me carefully, Owen.”
He sucks in a surprised breath. “You used my first name. This must be serious.”
His joking tone only frustrates me more. “Does the name Peyton Radd mean anything to you?”
Owen’s eyes widen. “You saw the sticky note on my desk the day you cleaned.”
It's not exactly a question, but I nod anyway.
“I should have hired security the moment his name crossed my path,” he says.
“What do you mean? How do you know him?”
“I don’t know him personally, but he worked for one of the companies I acquired recently.”
Confirmation hewasn’thired by Owen. But why would Peyton be so reluctant to admit it? And why is Peyton still being so secretive?
“What did he do for that company?” I ask.
Owen looks as if he doesn’t want to tell me, so I decide to give him some incentive. “He’s here. He cornered me and wants a private meeting with you. Right now. He didn’t seem very friendly, so you'd better tell me what you know.”
“Fuck,” Owen mumbles. “He touched you?”
“Yes. No.” I shake my head. “That doesn’t matter right now! What matters is what you know about him and why he wants to meet with you alone.”
Owen looks like he wants to murder someone, but he answers. “I believe he is some sort of hitman. Someone hired by the drug cartel and then later by the company I acquired. The drug cartel had some business dealings with the company that I ended when I bought them.”
“What do you think he wants?”
