Page 27 of Worth Risking It

He tucked my hair behind my ear, sitting sideways on the bench, his elbow on the back of the seat. “How did you know I was being short changed?”

I leaned my back against his chest, turning my face to the seat. “My stepdad was a raging alcoholic. His friend owned a liquor store at the end of the block where we lived, so he sent me to buy his booze whenever he ran out and was too sloshed to walk. Sometimes, when he couldn’t afford to pay his bill, I worked inventory for him to make amends.”

His muscles tensed beneath me, his fingers raking through my hair. “Baby girl, did he ever hit you?”

I clenched my lids and rotated to my side, my back to the front seat. “Can we not talk about him, please?”

“It’s fine.” He dropped a kiss to the top of my head, his other arm laying across my chest. “I’m proud of you, you know that? You were so brave tonight.”

“You would have figured it out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I would, but that’s not the point. You stuck your neck out for the family tonight and I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t do it again,” Wyatt barked, slowing the vehicle to make a turn.

Snickering, he kissed me again. “From now on, we need to make a little code if you’re picking up on something, so you don’t just blurt out like that, okay?”

“Mm hm. I don’t want to talk about this, either. My head hurts and I feel sick again.”

“It’ll get easier, baby girl,” he soothed, gently scratching my scalp. “You’ll get used to this and soon, you’ll be a pro.”

Did I want that? Was that really something to look forward to? I just got involved with smuggling almost a million dollars’ worth of alcohol tonight.

It wasn’t like I had a choice. There was no walking away from Milo, even if I wanted to. Either I toughened up or learned to keep my big mouth shut.

Chapter 11

Chastity Monroe

The rental was a modern, four story brownstone in the heart of Brooklyn. With four bedrooms and six baths dispersed between them, it was beautiful and luxurious, having a huge exercise room in the basement and an observation deck on the roof accessed by the master suite.

It was nice, but I missed my house. My entire life was spent in apartments in the city with traffic and horns and noise surrounding me at all times.

Just a few weeks at the house, and I was addicted to the silence, the serenity, the unobstructed sunsets and sunrises. I longed to be laying in my plush, comfy bed, staring through the doors to the sunroom, watching the bright rays of light flicker through the panes of glass to warm the off white, shag carpet.

Standing in the center of the exercise room in my robe, bouncing a basketball, I strolled around, replaying the events of earlier tonight. What in the hell provoked me to open my mouth? I could have just waited until we were alone and told Milo privately the Russian was trying to scam him.

I could have just kept my mouth shut, altogether. Milo never would have agreed to any contract without doing research. He would have figured it out.

Something inside snapped, however. The very idea Morozov thought he could scam him pissed me off. Did he really think he was that smart, or that Milo was that dumb? I got defensive and lashed out.

When he reached under his jacket, my soul left my body. How the hell I managed to maintain a cool composure, I will never know.

My sight flitted to the brick wall at the back of the room, and I slowed the dribbling. In less than a fraction of a second, Wyatt was hovering over me, his arm straight, a pistol cocked and aimed, ready to kill for me.

The fact he even had a gun was shocking enough. All the times we’d been together, was he carrying one? Him being a bodyguard, I would suppose so. How did I expect him to protect me or Milo? With his fists?

You will never leave this building alive if you dare draw on this woman. This is not the woman to even think about something so foolish, my friend.

All these months, knowing the truth about Milo, it all seemed so unreal to me, until tonight. Tonight, everything was put into crystal clear perspective. This was real, this was not a game, this was dangerous.

I could have died tonight. Every time that notion circled my brain, I got nauseous again and almost cried. Before I met Milo and life was so mundane, boring, and lonely, I used to think I would be okay if I died. Sometimes, after waking up from a nightmare of my stepfather, I would lay in bed, thinking about a few times he got too rough with me, and I honestly felt I would have been okay had he killed me.

Tonight, I realized I was not ready to die. I loved life. I loved my life.

That insight was a bit surprising because of Milo’s affairs. I came to the understanding tonight when my life flashed before my eyes, that as long as I had Wyatt, I was okay with his indiscretions, so long as he wore condoms.

I didn’t use protection with Wyatt, but it was Wyatt. I was the only one he was sleeping with. Who knew how many others the mistresses had sex with when Milo wasn’t around?