“Lose it and you’ll fucking die,” I growled.
He grinned. “Without the weapon?”
“All I need is my bare hands,” I scoffed. He was older than me by a good couple of years and experienced in maintaining a blank expression or he wasn’t easily intimidated. I went with the latter. He opened the back door and I climbed in waiting to see who he was guarding. The vehicle was empty. “Who am I meeting?” I asked when he slid in behind the wheel. He said nothing. “Can I at least get your name, then? You know common courtesy and all that shit.” I was usually the manipulator in these kinds of situations. It seemed like someone had one up on me. This time.
“Julian,” he replied meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror and pulling me out of my silent rant.
“So, who do you guard?” I took another chance. All I got was silence.
When Julian stopped outside a lady’s boutique, my curiosity grew. Why the fuck were we having a clandestine meeting in a fashion store and who the fuck was I meeting? Inside, the cool air from the aircon above the door, blasted over me as I entered. Julian gestured for me to take a seat in front of a raised platform and secured my feet to the legs of the chair.
“What the fuck is this, a fashion show?” I muttered.
The man stood, gave me a blank look, and moved to the side of the platform. A moment later, the doors behind him opened and someone stepped out. Holding up a hand, he moved and the air caught in my throat. Slender fingers tipped with red nails slipped into his as a woman stepped up onto the platform with his help. I stared. Transparent red lace draped her body from her shoulders to a train behind her. Long lace sleeves covered her arms ending in ‘v’ over the back of her hands. A deep cleavage warranted a second glance. Her naked skin creamy ivory beneath the shimmering material. A red lace veil covered her face, the intricate design making it difficult to discern her features properly. I had no idea who I was looking at yet an uncanny sixth sense hinted she was about to impact my life in some fucked up way.
A fitter approached and began adjusting the woman’s dress and I watched as she pinned and tucked the material in several places until the woman was satisfied. Then she leaned down and whispered something to Julian. About fucking time.
“My lady asked what you think of her dress, it’s her favorite color.”
Okay, not what I expected. Letting my gaze roll over her body as she did a slow turnabout, my cock gave a little twitch of appreciation. While I couldn’t see her face, the woman had a stunning body, the figure-hugger only serving to enhance the perfect shape. Ample tits, a rounded ass, flat stomach, and defined hips would attract a man’s eyes and fuck with his imagination. If that wasn’t enough, she moved. Like a red curtain about to reveal a surprise, the slit down the center of her dress parted from just below what I assumed would be a mouth-watering pussy down to her fuck-me red heels. Exposing shapely legs, I’d want wrapped around my waist if I could figure who the fuck she was.
“It’s beautiful,” I replied. “The lady even more so.” I could sense her eyes on me, and I clenched my fists, a second away from jumping onto that platform and ripping off that veil. “Why the secrecy?” I asked instead, biding my time. Plus, the binds were fucking tight as shit, cutting into my wrists each time I moved.
Julian replied on his own this time. “In her world, she is in danger all the time and the fewer people see her, the better for her safety.”
I cocked a brow, my annoyance peaking. “Let’s say I buy that bullshit.” At my words I caught her fists balling and her shoulders stiffening. I’d hit a sore point. “Why drag me here? Why not just leave me a message or a fucking note?”
Slowly, she turned, facing me. I watched her chest rise and fall in quick succession. A full minute passed between us glaring at each other through a shield of lace and my curiosity clashed with my need to stay calm for Jaz. The woman leaned down and whispered to her bodyguard.
“Because sometimes what you see can exist, Mr. Morrone,” Julian said.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I barked, earning a deathly stare from the man. Shaking my head, I dropped my gaze to my shoes. Then I frowned. Those words. I’d used them before. Not the same but similar and close enough to challenge each other. My eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. That night etched into my brain like a fucking dagger to my heart. My head shot up, the name on the tip of my tongue. The woman was gone.
“Where the fuck is she?” I struggled against the binds. Julian merely crossed his arms over his chest. The fucker had no idea what I could do to him. He might be a large man but I always believed, agility outweighed size. “I need to speak to her.” I roared. He didn’t budge. Puffing out my cheeks on an exhale, I calmed down. “Look, it’s important. I need to speak to her. Please.”
“All in good time,” he offered. I growled my dissatisfaction and he shrugged. “Do you want that child returned to you, Mr. Morrone?”
I swallowed down the blasphemous curses performing a cult dance on my tongue as the fitter looked at me from across the room. “Yes.”
“Good.” He moved closer, his expression cautioning me to agree. “Then you will do as we say or forget this meeting ever happened. Understood?”
I nodded. “Can I ask you something?” my voice a little calmer, my unstable heartbeat, not so much.”
“Sure.” Withdrawing a knife, he crouched and cut the flex-cuffs keeping my ankles secured.
“How long have you worked for her?” I wasn’t sure whether that was the best question to ask, but it seemed like the place to start.
His hand on my arm, I stood and allowed him to guide me to his vehicle out front. “She was four when I first came into her life and have been there since.” This time he held open the passenger door upfront open and I climbed in.
“What’s her name,” I asked as he slid behind the wheel.
His chuckle was low. “You’re a clever man, Mr. Morrone and you’ll probably figure shit out.” He glanced at me as the engine purred to life. “Sometimes, though, you just need to let things play out.” At my frown, he added, “the world is full of corrupt people with hidden agendas but there are times when you find the odd person who just wants the truth.”
I wasn’t sure if he was referring to me or generalizing. “What do you mean?”
He eased the truck into traffic and shifted his gaze between me and the road. “The truth will either set you free or kill you. Be careful who you mess with because not everything is black and white. There might be spots of red in between. And I’m sure you know what the color of blood is, right?”
“You sound like a goddamn mystery channel. You’re not making sense,” I grunted.
