13
Notes:
Sorry this chapter is late. My male cat developed a UTI and apparently they can be fatal, so I had to take him to the emergency vet and then carefully watch him use the litter box for the next several days to make sure things were “coming out okay.”
Milo
Ray picks up on the first ring. “Talk to me.”
“I keep running into competition, Ray. What do I need to know?”
We’re speeding away from the cabin as fast as I dare. Lucky for me, I suppose, that Florida has the worst drivers I’ve ever seen. Erratic behavior behind the wheel isn’t necessarily the giveaway it might be elsewhere. Still, the last thing I need is anyone asking questions.
Not while I’ve got a recently bandaged bullet wound and a suspicious hole in my pant leg.
There’s a rustling sound on Ray’s end of the phone. “There’s definitely another contract out on your guy…”
My guy.
“…all I’ve been able to find out so far.”
“Oh yeah? That’s great. Thanks Ray, I really appreciate that useful information.
Here’s the thing, though.” The edges of the phone are biting into my hand.
“I already knew that because after I took care of a guy outside his apartment, two guys showed up at our alleged safe house and tried to kill us. Do you have anything that’s actually useful right now? ”
Beside me, Rowan flinches at the rising rage in my voice. I force myself to take a breath. For all the good it does.
Ray only grunts. “Someone’s cranky.”
I glance over to the passenger seat, where Rowan is trying to make his enormous body as small as possible. He’s curled in on himself, his arms wrapped in a protective hug, his eyes staring blankly at the road. None of his usual sass in sight.
He’s been visibly shaky since we left the cabin.
Honestly, I’m worried. And I don’t like having to worry.
Damn right I’m fucking cranky.
While Rowan and I ate dinner together after we fucked, an unfamiliar panic seized me. I couldn’t kill him.
Maybe it was never an option. I made the decision when I chose to kill the man attacking him in that hotel room. When I let him get away without really trying to stop him.
But now? Now, I’m fucked.
There’s no undoing how badly I’ve screwed this job. Or how stupid it is that my brain shouted at me to protect him in the aftermath at the cabin. Stupid or not, I’m unwilling to sacrifice him to a rich asshole’s whims.
I know what my services command. Whoever paid for not one but at least two hits on him is a wealthy son of a bitch. Rowan may not know how he got on someone’s bad side, but whoever it is, they’re not fucking around.
My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and touch him. To, I don’t know, comfort him or something. Except comfort isn’t my strong suit and I’ve already got one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the phone.
I’m not putting it on speaker for this conversation. Rowan’s upset enough.
“At least they weren’t trying to kill you,” Ray offers unhelpfully.
“Come on, Ray. Really?”
“Milo, you and I share an ex. I know what you’re like. Half the men you’ve fucked out there are probably looking for a repeat, and the other half definitely want you dead. It’s not only possible, it’s likely.”
“Not in this case.” I get serious.
“No. There’s definitely a second contract.” He’s quiet for a minute and so am I. It’s dark, we’re on a lonely stretch of rural road, and the directions Jalen gave me for where we’re going sounded sketchy.
The place you’re looking for looks like a big-ass haunted house, he said. Guess beggars can’t insist on not sharing accommodations with a poltergeist. Is that how it goes?
“You’re still thinking you want to get it canceled.”
“The contract? I’m not thinking anything. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“You know that’s risky. I take it you haven’t found anything to suggest it’s got legs?”
“I have found nothing to suggest it’s got any limbs at all, Ray. Far as I can tell, it’s bullshit. At least as far as my criteria go.”
He’s quiet again. “You fucking this kid or something?”
A bizarrely out-of-place house pops up in the middle of what looks like a cow pasture. A new-looking sign announces the “Elizabeth Wilde Haunted Bed and Breakfast.”
Oh hell. Jalen was being literal. We are pulling up to a haunted bed and breakfast in the middle of the night. On purpose. This is an official sign that I should’ve let that psychopath handle my job for me, turned right around, and gotten on a plane.
You were never going to let that man kill Rowan.
“Oh, look,” I chirp with forced cheer, “found my turn. Gotta go, Ray. Let me know if you have any other information.”
“Milo, wait—”
As quickly as possible, I hang up the phone and take the turn down the gravel drive. I’m trying to force my shoulders away from my ears when Rowan finally speaks.
“More people are trying to kill me?” He’s quiet and unsure. The tone of the question doesn’t match the asker. The grumpy, sexy young man who stood in front of me and offered his body in exchange for protection is nowhere to be found.
Fine, I probably would’ve tried to help him anyway. I don’t think I could’ve not done it, all the should in the world be damned. I’m also selfish enough to take advantage of his body if he’s offering. That, I won’t deny.
Comforting him still makes me squirm, though.
“We already knew that was the case,” I nearly whisper.
“We suspected. Now we know for sure.”
I nod. “Changes nothing.”
“Doesn’t it?” There’s a thread of panic in his voice. “I don’t even know who I pissed off. Seriously, I’ve hardly gone anywhere or done anything since I moved out of my ex’s house. I’ve only had a handful of clients, and they were all fine, except for the one you… You know.”
It’s a foggy night. I’m silent for a while under the guise of navigating the long-ass driveway. Also, what can I say here that’s helpful?
“Babe, I’ve seen people kill for the stupidest reasons.
Heard a story one time about a psychopath who murdered his entire household because he thought getting divorced would be a bigger hassle.
Another one about a guy who, instead of breaking up with his girlfriend, drove her to an active train track and tried to leave her there locked in the car. The list goes on.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Now that I think of it, neither of those stories is probably helpful.
I pat him on the knee. “The second one turned out okay. The girl got out of the car and ran. When the train hit the car, it spun into the boyfriend at, like, sixty miles per hour and turned him into hamburger.”
The story makes me chuckle every time I think about it. Fucking Darwin Award winner if you ask me. Piece of shit deserved exactly what he got.
Rowan swallows hard next to me. “That’s… Um…”
Okay, obviously Rowan doesn’t think dying in dumb ways is as funny as I do. This relationship is doomed to fail, in case we didn’t already know for sure.
Pulling the stolen car into a cutout at the end of the drive, I turn it around so we can leave quickly if we need to and then nod toward the house.
Three serious-looking men stand there, staring from under the porch light.
All three are rumpled and clearly displeased that someone dragged them out of bed at such a ridiculous time of night.
“Evening.” I wave as cheerfully as possible, given the hour. “Sorry to drag you guys out so late. Jalen said it would be okay for us to stay here a night or two. We really appreciate it.”
The blond one rolls his eyes, but he quickly narrows them at me.
He’s the shortest of the three, which is curious.
He’s pressed against the tallest man with a protective grip on one arm.
As we all size each other up, I realize both men on either side are actually looking pretty protective of the guy in the middle.
He’s clearly the oldest and the largest, but the way the younger ones flanking him are glaring daggers tells an interesting story.
I definitely have some questions, not that it’s a great time to get nosy about their relationship dynamic.
It’s the hard set of the blond one’s jaw that concerns me, a little. The tense lines of his body. He’s legitimately angry, and he’d better not try to take anything out on Rowan. Then I will have something to say.
“Yeah, Jalen said. Got a call from him saying we owed him for all the times the three of us fucking kept him awake at night. Fucking bullshit.” The angry blond must have decided we’re okay.
He tosses out an old-fashioned looking key on a clunky ring, turning away without bothering to see if I catch it. Which I do, but still.
“You’re in the Henry James suite. Enjoy your stay,” he calls over his shoulder. “Come on, Kitten. Let’s go the fuck back to bed.”
Kitten?
The older one, tall and muscular with dark hair, glances between the one who threw the key at us and the one still staring at us before giving an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind him. He’s grumpy when he’s tired. Uh, enjoy your stay.”
He turns and follows the other one inside.
The last one, he’s got his long hair pulled up in a sloppy bun and long lashes that would make any model jealous.
His full lips that are curved into a slight smile and his kind eyes make him almost pretty.
It would be tempting to think he’s the safe one.
The nice one. Except the careful way he observes us both tells me his good nature only goes so far.
“Come on in. I’ll show you guys to your room,” he says.
“Thanks.” I check around as we walk inside. It’s dark, but from what I can tell the decor is an odd mix of cozy Victorian and old horror movie memorabilia. Rowan trails behind me, carrying Iggy’s tank in a death grip.
“Interesting place. Uh, how do you know Jalen?” I ask.
“We used to be his downstairs neighbors. We also used to work for Brennan.” He taps the back of his hand against Rowan’s shoulder. “Good to see you again.”
For the first time, Rowan seems to focus on what’s happening in front of us. “Oh. Yeah. Adam, right? Hi.”
Adam nods. “Sounds like you got into some trouble with a client?”
“Something like that,” Rowan mumbles.
“We’ve all been there. You’ll be okay. Whatever it is, I’m sure Brennan will take care of it.”
I’m frustrated that I can’t step up and declare that I will take care of the problem, not Brennan. I protected Rowan tonight, not his filthy, shady-ass pimp. But I don’t know these guys, and openly sharing my profession isn’t smart.
Besides, the shady pimp in question agreed to lend me the use of his shady hackers to try to pin down the person who took out the contracts against Rowan. Guess the son of a bitch deserves some of the credit. Emphasis on some.
Rowan opens and closes his mouth a few times, making me think I might have to jump in and say something, but all he does is mumble a quiet “Thanks.”
Adam gestures to a room. “You guys are in here. Get some rest. You’re coming to brunch at Gil’s tomorrow, right?”
For the first time all night, Rowan brightens. “I forgot tomorrow’s Sunday.”
I’m less excited about this news, however. “Is that brunch here, by any chance?”
Adam shakes his head. “On Sundays, we have someone come in to serve breakfast for the guests. Most of Brennan’s escorts meet at a spot downtown.
We still go, even though we don’t work for him anymore.
It’s a good time. Breakfast burritos. Fluffy pancakes.
Bottomless mimosas. You’re welcome to join. ”
Already I’m shaking my head. “People are looking for you,” I remind Rowan. “It’s not safe.”
But hell, the way his face falls makes my chest collapse.
“Please? It’s really fun. There’s a pool right now I wanted to put a couple of dollars on. One of the former escorts, we think his brother’s seeing someone, but he won’t tell us who and—”
“Rowan.” My tone holds a clear warning. “You’re talking about risking your safety so you can take part in a telenovela.”
“Fuck you. I’ve been looking forward to this. And I’ve never gotten to try a mimosa before. I wasn’t old enough until last week.”
Shivers dance across the backs of my arms. “You turned twenty-one last week?”
He nods earnestly.
Wait. “Didn’t you say you were with your ex for four years?”
He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh. Yeah. So?”
My body gets hot and right. Rowan was seventeen fucking years old when some pervy older man moved in on him. Fuck.
No wonder Rowan acts like the most sheltered whore I’ve ever met. That’s exactly what he is.
Now I feel like shit. I also want to kill his ex.
“Fine, we can go to the damn brunch.”
A grin breaks through Rowan’s exhaustion. “Really? Thanks.” He turns to Adam. “You mind making sure we’re up in the morning?”
“Sure thing.” Adam gives another wave and then heads out a set of sliding doors at the back of the house. Across the grass, there appears to be a smaller guesthouse. A minute later, the lights in the guest house go out.
“Don’t make me regret this.” I point to Rowan. “We go, we eat, we come straight back. Tomorrow, I’m supposed to meet with one of Brennan’s hackers again. If we’re lucky he’ll be able to find a name for me.”
And then this will all be over. Which is…good.
Oblivious, Rowan nods enthusiastically. “Right. There and back. Definitely.” He adjusts his grip on Iggy’s tank while I jiggle the key in the door. “Oh, and, Milo?”
“What now? You want to stop for pedicures after brunch?” With a too-loud click and a creak that matches the rest of the house’s vibe, the door to our room swings open.
“I wanted to say thank you. You know. For everything.”
There’s a joke right on the tip of my tongue about how he already did thank me. That’s what all the sex we had was about. It’s too late, and I can’t manage the flip attitude.
Truthfully, there’s a core-deep ache in me like I haven’t felt since my parents died, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“It’s not a big deal.” The lie makes me itchy, but it’s better than the truth.
I don’t look at Rowan as I step back to let him into the room. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep.”
No amount of rubbing at my sore chest makes the ache diminish, though. Deciding I can’t kill Rowan is one thing. What I’m feeling right now is something else entirely.
It’s warmth and worry. I don’t need to protect Rowan because we made a deal. I want to. That’s a dangerous fucking feeling.
One I need to shut down before it endangers us both.