“You can’t take the chair into the parking lot,” a woman calls from a security booth when I roll her down the sidewalk. I think about ignoring her, but I don’t want to cause a scene.
I lean forward, putting my mouth close to Maxine’s ear, but before I can warn her to stay put, she says, “I’m not going to run off, Winger.” Her sassy tone almost has me overlooking the fact that she called me by name—a name I never gave her.
“And here I thought you had no clue who I am.”
Her huff shows her frustration with the slip, and it’s also more proof I need her to answer my questions soon.
“Sit still until I get back.” I’m confident I could catch her if she did try to run. The pills helped, but I can still see the winces she tries to hide when she’s moving. I’m more concerned she’ll call my bluff about turning the gun over to the police and try to tell someone I basically abducted her while I’m continuing to hold her against her will.
She allows me to help her from the chair and into the Audi when I return. I leave the chair near the loading area before getting behind the wheel. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, but I ignore the empty feeling in my gut because I’m not going to eat in front of Maxine before I know she can eat too. That’s not something I could do.
CHAPTER13
MAXINE
Ihate myself a little for not finding a way to get away from Winger, and I really hate that I let his name slip out like we’re old friends or something. I was taken aback by the goose bumps that erupted on the nape of my neck when I felt his breath near my ear. It freaked me out, and I responded without thought.
The car feels too small with both of us inside, or maybe he’s just taking up too much room in my life and in my head. Why couldn’t I just walk away after the night in the alley? Why did I feel the urge to know more about him? I turn to the side, pretending to look out the window. I feel his eyes on me every few minutes, and it’s making me uncomfortable, not to mention the ache in my stomach is getting heavier.
I don’t want to ask for more pills, but I also can’t think straight when the pain is more intense, which means both options fucking suck. I don’t even know if he has the pills. I didn’t see the doctor lady give them to him, so I’m probably shit out of luck until we get back. It will be easier to ask her for them anyway.
“When will we know if I have shit leaking into my gut from the asshole who gave me a second belly button?”
He doesn’t respond right away, but I can feel him looking at me. I don’t know what it is about him that makes me lose my people skills. It’s like my filter for bullshit just disappears, which sucks because I’m pretty proud of the way I can fly under the radar, seem totally normal, and fit into ordinary situations.
“Cheryl seems more concerned with your future ability to have children, not your intestines.”
I snort. “Holy shit, maybe he did me a favor.” Is there a sunny side to this bullshit? I notice Winger do a double take at my proclamation, but then he resumes looking at the road.
“I don’t think we will have to wait long, a few hours maybe,” he answers quietly. After a short pause, he speaks again. “Why don’t you tell me who you’re working for?”
“This again?” I let my head fall back against the headrest. I wish I could tell him I was working for someone. It would be better than admitting the truth.
“Yes, this again. Look, I know you were following me and spying on the club. Was that what the guy in the parking lot was about? Did he come to collect information? Do they have something on you and are forcing you to do this shit for them?”
I deflect yet again. “You must really think you’re important.” I should probably be more careful with how I speak to him. I know he’s dangerous in a very different way than the men I’m used to dealing with. Sure, some of them liked to hurt me, but they wanted me alive for what they wanted from me. I have no such reassurance when it comes to Winger.
He’ll probably kill me as soon as he gets the information he thinks he wants, which means I need to escape before he figures out I was stalking him because he did something I perceived as nice and I couldn’t understand his motives.
“I know my place, do you?” he retorts. It’s the first time I’ve heard what could be anger in his voice when he’s speaking directly to me.
“I know exactly who I am.” I sound bored, but it’s because I don’t want him to hear how defensive I really am. I know I’m nothing, no one. If I disappeared tomorrow, the only person who would care would be my mortgage company, and that would only be until they realized I have way more fucking equity in my condo than what I owe on it.
“How about you tell me, Maxine Johnson? I’m dying to know.”
“Not soon enough,” I mutter under my breath. He doesn’t speak for the rest of the drive. There’s a part of me that thinks I should feel guilty for being such an asshole, considering he did save my life, but I didn’t ask him to.
By the time we reach the same brick building we left, my stomach hurts, but it’s not from my injury. It’s more like I’m nervous or something. I dismiss it as one more thing I don’t want to deal with.
I glance up at the structure. You’d never guess there’s a least one pretty nice apartment upstairs from the looks of the building. It appears to be an uninhabited heap, but the pole with the little keypad tells another story. He enters a code that I can’t see, and a door to underground parking opens up.
He parks in the closest spot to the elevator, which happens to be farther away from the few other vehicles dotted around, and says, “Wait,” before exiting the car. I watch him approach my door through the windows and side mirror. I want to slam my hand down on the lock button, but I know it wouldn’t do any good since he has the keys to the car, but I hate feeling out of control, and right now, I feel completely untethered to my life.
The door opens, and he crouches in the opening next to me. It shows how little he’s threatened by my presence. Any other time, I would have tried to use it to my advantage, but at the moment, he’s right not to be concerned. I let my eyes roam over his chest. If I had his gun, it would change things quite a bit, and I could put a bullet in his head.
He waits until I finally meet his gaze to speak. “I know you were following me. Let’s stop pretending you don’t know exactly what I’m capable of. Get out of the car.” He stands abruptly and moves back, giving me room to get out, but he doesn’t offer to help like he did when we arrived at the clinic.
I bite my inner lip to keep from making a sound as I get to my feet. My stomach pulls in a way that makes me freeze mid-movement. I should really learn to keep my mouth shut, at least when it would benefit me to do so.
