“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
“She got roughed up in the parking lot by work. Darren’s taking her home.”
I’m used to hearing Alana with a sharp clip to her voice, but this sounds different. Colder. “Unacceptable. Darren, code Valkyrie, and I expect a full report tomorrow.”
I don’t know what that means at all, but he gives a quick nod and says, “You should come with me.”
No. I don’t like it. I think it’s the way he looms over me, and I feel small between Dimitri and Darren.
“I feel safe with Fox.” I step back into him, his hand resting on my lower back. “And I don’t understand what’s going on.”
The men change their stance, less dominating and more comforting. “Ms. King is a close friend and employer of several members of the club and she wants you to have the best protection possible,” Darren says in a soothing and calm voice.
Fox whispers, “I told you that you’re precious.”
But now I’m spiraling. How did a logo design job I took a year ago change my life so much? The past year clashes with the immediate present. I turn back to Fox with a pleading expression. “Does this mean I can’t come tomorrow?”
Dimitri’s eyes shoot up, and a small grin appears, but I think it’s for my benefit because it doesn’t meet his eyes as he glances at Fox. “Of course, you’re allowed back.”
“Can you get her a guest trial for the next time?” Fox says softly.
“Come on, let’s go up front and get your account all set up,” Darren says and offers me his hand. He pauses and looks back at Fox. “Are you coming?”
“No. Her information is personal. I just need her phone number.” He turns to me and pushes my hair over my shoulder. “See you soon, Kitten.”
Then it hits me—he doesn’t know my name ... and he doesn’t want to.
