“You will come back to a stripped bike,” said Forrest.
“Orno bike,” Rourke added with a small smile that transformed into something scorching when he caught Forrest’s eye. Rourke turned his back to the traffic while I poked forlornly at the spot where the chain should have been, and I assumed he made a call for the tow truck. He made another call while I looked around on the ground for the busted chain, but it was long gone.
“That was so fun. Will we do it again?” Forrest asked me, and I turned toward him. Some of my bad mood flew away as he hooked his arm through mine and leaned into me.
I wanted to say a thousand different things to him, but only nodded.
“Okay,” Rourke said, his voice abrupt and no-bullshit as he turned toward us. “This is what’s going to happen. You”—he gestured at Forrest—“go get in the car.”
“But—”
“And you,” he said, turning to me and pointing. “You’re going with them.”
I went still. “With who?”
But even as I spoke, a car pulled smoothly in behind us and a massive man got out. Of course he was wearing a suit too. Did these men wear anything else?
“You want to stay with your bike, right?” Rourke asked, his eyes way too intense for my liking.
“Uh, yeah.”
“They’ll get it figured out. I’m getting Forrest back to the Virtue, where he’s safe.”
Forrest smiled at me and took my Kings’ jacket off, handing it back. I slipped it on. He gave me a little wave. “They’ll bring you to my room when you’re done.”
“Okay. Take the helmets with you,” I said, handing him mine and nodding at the one he’d been wearing.
“Sure!” he said and grabbed them both. I hated that I felt any sort of way at all about Forrest laughing with Rourke as he walked to the car and got in it, but I was lonely without him. They pulled into traffic as soon as there was an opening, and the big, suited man behind me cleared his throat. “Mr. Brassard—”
“Hunter. It’s just Hunter. Hunter Tanner,” I mumbled.
He blinked at me. “Mr. Tanner, we’re to wait with you until the tow truck driver shows. He’s been given instructions to take your bike to the parking garage owned by the Exotic Virtue.” The man said all of that in a dead tone that was entirely for delivering information. No personality.
Frowning at him, I stared at my bike. “My baby needs me to put her to bed.”
Suit Guy’s mouth twitched when I glanced back at him, like he was frustrated maybe, or like he was trying not to laugh at me. His plain face transformed into rugged and handsome as he cracked a small smile.
“I can just ride with the tow truck.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?” I turned toward him and fought not to let my hands curl into fists. What the fuck?
He frowned. “My job is to protect you.”
“What? Why?”
It was his turn to look flustered. “Because that’s my job, sir.”
“Okay, then. I’ll just ride with the tow truck driver and you can go.” I shrugged at him. “No guilty conscience. All the best.”
“Mr. Tormey told me to stay with you,” he replied, as if that decided matters, and maybe here in New York City it did.
On a sigh, I stepped farther away from the road as a tractor trailer sped past us and snagged at my breath. I’d thought I was getting away from power plays for a little vacation, but it seemed like maybe the world worked the same everywhere, and sure, Rourke wasn’t King, but he had underlings, just like King. I shook my head and stared into the distance at the glittering, unfamiliar skyline full of buildings taller than the ones at home. I’d wanted to forget about New Gothenburg, but it seemed like I’d just dragged all that crap along with me.
I glanced at the big man and nodded at him, thought about asking his name, but was back in a bad mood so I didn’t. He eyed me with surprise. We stood there in silence, waiting for the truck, the guy giving me more and more looks, until finally I said, “What?”
“You don’t talk, like the other one.”
