Smiling tightly, Paul shooed away his client, snapping glances around the room as he stepped toward Adam. He approached slow at first, picking up the pace the nearer he drew.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Paul grabbed Adam’s shoulder and guided him into the shadows. “Everybody thinks you’re dead. You have to leave.”
“Good,” Adam said, exhaling in relief. He’d chosen right, for once. “You got my note.”
“Yes, I got your note. You should not have sent that. Paper evidence? Come on, Adam.”
“You tore it up. That’s how I knew you were the one I could trust.”
“What?” Paul hid his face under his palm, checking over his own shoulder like he was barely even listening.
“You tore it up. You read it for yourself, and you weren’t going to show anyone. You made sure no one but you would see it.”
“How do you know—you know what, never mind. You’ve got to get out of here. Now. Before you’re seen.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I’m here for a reason.”
“You don’t understand–” Paul shouted, halting as he drew the attention of the room. Chuckling darkly, Adam stumbled when Paul shoved him into the back office, drew the blinds, and locked the door.
“Blake owns this place now. You can’t come storming in!”
Adam opened his arms wide, trying not to smile menacingly, but probably failing. That smile always showed up when he knew he was misbehaving. Which was often. “Paul…I haven’t seen you in five years, can’t you pretend to be happy to see me?”
“Of course, I’m happy,” Paul said, almost seeming surprised with how forceful his voice was. Uncertainty crossed his face before he sighed, wiping his forehead. “Of course, I’m happy to see you.”
Gesturing again, Adam opened his arms and Paul finally gave in, placing thunderous slaps on his back.
“You look good,” Adam said. “Bulkier, though.”
Paul laughed. “It’s all muscle, mate.”
“You don’t wanna say how good I’m looking?”
“You scrub up alright,” Paul said. “Aged, though.”
“I haven’t aged a day.” Adam brushed away the friendly insult, running his hands over his hair, nearly catching his skull rings in his locks.
“You really do have to leave though. If Blake sees you, he’ll kill you properly this time.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Adam said. “I need your help.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Paul sighed. “You’re not taking Blake down now. Haven’t you seen the news? He’s about to be the mayor.”
Fuck, he didn’t need to be reminded. Of course, he’d seen the shit show that had been going on in his absence. Why else would he be back?
Arching his brow, Adam said, “Yeah, I’ve seen the news. I know exactly what Blake has been up to, and exactly who’s sleeping in his bed.”
“Right, yeah,” Paul said, studying the floor. “That doesn’t change the fact that you being here is a fucking terrible idea.”
“I was never going to let him get away with what he did to me.”
“God, that may be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. Youknowwhat Blake would do to you, to all of us, if he found out you’re not really dead.”
“He took everything from me. Now I have to take it back. This is non-negotiable, and I can’t do it without you.”
Paul clenched his jaw. “You have to get out of here before you get yourself killed, again, and take all of us with you this time.”
“Look,” Adam said. “I wouldn’t come back here without a plan. We’re getting Carlos, Dan, and Mercedes back. We’re getting back the cars, the bars, the fucking mansion. AND—we’re gonna kill Dorian Blake.”
