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1010 Words
“I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry, and I want us to start off on the right foot, like I said. So no lying. Either of us,” he adds sternly, as if he’s being entirely reasonable.
As if he hasn’t completely short-circuited my brain.
I say faintly, “What is happening?”
“Be in the alley behind the bar in sixty seconds, and I’ll explain it to you.”
The phone goes dead in my hand.
I stare at it, frozen, until someone knocks on the phone booth glass. I jump, looking up into Max’s face.
She gives me a questioning thumbs-up.
Moving slowly, I hang up the phone and open the door.
She says impatiently, “Well? How’d it go?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not going to kill us.”
She examines my expression for a moment. “Then why do you look like you’re about to barf?”
“Because he’s waiting for me outside.”
She swings around to stare in shock at the exit I gestured to. “Here? Now? Why?”
“I…think we’re going on a date.”
She turns back to me, blinking so slowly it’s comical. “A date.”
“I think so. Either that, or he recently fired his therapist and needs to get some things off his chest.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“It means that for a soulless, ruthless, cold-blooded gangster, he’s surprisingly big on confessing his faults.” Max stares at me in silence.
“And honesty. He seems to be big on honesty, too. He kept insisting we weren’t going to lie to each other.” My laugh is small and semi-hysterical. “So we don’t get off on the wrong foot.”
She says, “Oh shit.”
“Exactly.”
We gaze at each other for a while, both of us knowing that my choices are limited.
I can try to run, putting my friends’ lives in danger, in addition to my own if he finds me. Which I’m beginning to suspect he could easily do. He seems to have all kinds of tricks up his well-tailored sleeves.
And despite his promises to the contrary, there’s no guarantee he won’t kill us all if I don’t comply with his wishes.
Or.
I can walk out the back door.
“Where’s Fin?”
“She went to the restroom.”
I take a deep breath, blow it out, and say a quick, silent prayer. “Don’t go back to the apartment tonight. Go to your safe spots and stay there. And if you don’t hear from me by dawn, contact my father.”
Max blanches. “Your father? Why?”
I say grimly, “He’s the only one who’ll be able to protectyou and Fin from Liam Black.”
Then I give her a quick, hard hug, and head out.
7
J U L E S
he heavy back door of the bar closes behind me with an ominous bang. I step out into the alley.
I’m greeted by the unnerving sight of five black SUVs lined up in a row, windows blacked out, engines running. Exhaust from the tail pipes steams white in the night air.
The driver’s door to the SUV in the middle opens. A big guy in a dark suit steps out, buttoning his jacket. He’s got jet black hair, ice blue eyes, and a hard, handsome face.
Like his boss, he’s disturbingly good-looking for a gangster.
Most of them have smashed noses or beady eyes or any number of scars and deformities from their time in the trenches. When my father and his associates get together, it looks like a gathering of trolls.
The driver opens the back door to the SUV and stands aside, waiting.
I hesitate, trying to muster my courage.
He says, “In you go, lass. Mr. Black doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Funny how a lilting Irish brogue can make everything sound lovely. Even a threat.
I walk forward, head held high, until I’m within a few feet of the car. Then I stop and skewer the driver with a look. “For future reference, I don’t like being rushed.”
He gazes at me like he’s trying to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He says drily, “I’ll make a note of it, Your
Highness. Now get your arse in the car.”
“Declan.”
The sharp reprimand comes from inside the SUV. It’s Liam, leaning forward in his seat, gazing with steely-eyed disapproval at the driver.
“Sorry, boss.” He inclines his head to me. “Apologies, lass.”
Sincere apologies from not one but two killers in a single evening. I’m on a roll.
“No worries. I’ve recently been told I have a forked tongue, so I can hardly blame you.” I shoot a glance at the car and mutter, “Plus, working for Prince Charmless must take its toll on your temper.”
A ghost of a smile flits across his mouth, but he quickly suppresses it.
I climb into the car. The driver shuts the door behind me. In a moment, we pull away.
All heat and coiled tension, Liam simmers in the seat beside me.
After we’ve gone three blocks, he says, “How long are you going to make me wait until you look at me?”
“I’m working on regulating my breathing so I don’t pass out. Maybe ten minutes?”
His chuckle is low and sensual, raising my blood pressure by at least two hundred points.
“You’re tougher than that. I’ll give you ten seconds.”
When the seconds have ticked by, I turn my head and glance at him warily from the corner of my eye.
He stares at me with such blistering intensity that for a moment, I can’t breathe.
His voice husky, he says, “Hullo again.”
Holy crap, he’s handsome. How can someone so evil be so hot?
- Writer
