Chapter Twenty-Three
Ravi
I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be there when Liam came back. I’m still not sure.
The part of me that wants him to approve of me keeps pointing out that I owe him the full twenty-four hours. Really, though, the bigger question is will he return before the time is up or did what happened between us somehow push him over the edge?
So, once I heard the crunch of Liam’s truck pulling down the long gravel drive, I didn’t waste much time. In spite of being so sore and jiggly I felt like I’d done one of those bootcamp workouts Dean loves so much, I couldn’t turn off my brain. No way was I going to get any sleep.
What I know for sure is, I’m starving. And there’s literally nothing in the fridge. Not even a loaf of bread that I can use to make sandwiches. Apparently while I was gone Liam has been living off salsa and tortilla chips and that nasty green juice of his.
Since I need to get food anyway, I text Channing to ask him if I can pick up my cat. For a moment, I pretend I wasn’t just low-key held hostage by a pissed-off mercenary. Just going to run some errands. Normal guy shit.
Surprisingly, Channing’s up, and his answer comes immediately.
Channing: Right fucking now. Little shit’s trying my patience. He’s put so many holes in my shirt I could use it to strain spaghetti. I’ll be at the club all day.
Ravi: I need to make a stop on the way, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Be patient with him; he’s just a baby.
Channing: No promises.
He’s joking. Right? Who honestly hates kittens?
Still, I should go get Mr. Cat.
I’m surprised to find the keys to my car in the kitchen drawer where Liam always keeps them. He’s been so controlling lately I would have thought he’d hidden them somewhere. Maybe even the car itself. But no, it’s sitting around the side of the house, next to the garage.
When I pass the door I’ve looked in the window of so many times, I try not to wonder if he’s had any of his little group get-togethers recently.
There’s a sticky, blurry feeling inside me I can’t get a handle on when I consider the prospect.
Watching him do those things to other people got me off, but I don’t like the way him doing things with other people means he’s not doing them with me.
Yes. He should definitely be doing them with me.
There’s a certain satisfaction in me about what happened last night. Yes, it hurt, and okay, it was also sort of humiliating. For all of those hours Liam edged me, even though looking at me seemed physically painful to him, I also knew I had his full attention.
For a little while I was his and he was mine. The way I’ve always wanted.
The drive downtown is quick, all things considered. In the middle of a weekday it might take over half an hour, but this morning it’s quiet and there’s no traffic.
Which is how I notice the red sedan in my rearview.
Plus, it’s awfully shiny.
I try to tell myself it’s a coincidence that it’s making all the same turns as me. It’s hanging back enough that I could be wrong. I also can’t get a license plate or anything because there are no front plates in Florida.
So I try, once I get into downtown, to make a few random turns.
Instead of heading directly to the parking garage down the block from Gil’s, I drive down the street where most of the bars are; one that almost nobody would have a reason to travel early on a Sunday morning.
For a second I think I’ve lost the person, but then they appear again.
“Dammit.”
My brain feels sluggish, almost as if it were scrambled by the most intense orgasm ever.
Even so, there’s a prickle of awareness that I need to do something here.
As quickly as I think of it, I discard the idea of driving home.
If Liam were there I might, but the last thing I need is to be on two and a half acres of land in the middle of nowhere when some sketchy car is following me around.
Not wanting another lecture from Liam, I pick up the phone to dial Brennan. He’s the only other person I can think of who would know what to do in this situation.
“You’ve reached Brennan Doyle” is quickly followed by an automated voice saying “This customer’s mailbox is full.”
After circling the block Gil’s is on, the car hangs back again. I’m not dumb enough to think it’s finally stopped following me, but I do think they’ve figured out that I know they’re following me.
It’s probably better to call Liam than to get killed. Probably.
My hands wrap tighter around the steering wheel, but it doesn’t change how shaky I feel. Is it fear, or the comedown from my orgasm blackout?
The answer doesn’t change the fact that right now I’m completely alone. And out of my depth.
Sighing in defeat, I grab my phone from the cupholder and hit the voice command button. “Call Demanding Asshole.”
He answers on the first ring. “Kid?”
The nickname makes me want to growl at him. It also kind of gives me the shivers, because he called me that when he had me naked and tied to his bed.
“Okay. Don’t be mad, but I kind of decided to go out and find some breakfast. And, well, I think someone’s following me.”
Footsteps echo on his end of the call. “What do you mean you think someone’s following you?”
“Well, it’s pretty early on a Sunday morning for people to be out, and this car came up behind me almost as soon as I left your property. It’s kind of nice, actually. Red? I’m not good with the brands though. Anyway, I drove around in a weird pattern for a while, and it’s still behind me.”
“Where the fuck are you now?”
“Downtown. I was on my way to get a breakfast burrito.” My stomach rumbles when I say the words.
He grumbles something I can’t make out before adding, “Keep your speed reasonable. Not too slow, but I don’t want you leading this guy on a car chase. Keep me on the phone. Zed and I are on our way. Whatever you do, stay in the car. Try to not get fucking kidnapped before we find you.”
I roll my shoulders and take a deep breath. “You got it, Daddy.”
It sounds a little like he’s being strangled on the other end. In spite of the fact that there’s a potential murderer or whatever following me, I still enjoy rattling him so much.
Wherever Liam has been, he gets to me surprisingly fast. I’ve only had to circle the block a few more times before a black SUV pulls up close behind the red car.
I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it parked in Liam’s driveway before.
The vehicle swerves around the red car and then makes a sudden ninety-degree turn, blocking the street.
Then Liam’s out, aiming a gun at the red car. Dammit, he’s going to get arrested. I glance around, thankful the street is otherwise empty for now.
“Shit.” My focus is all on my rearview, and I kind of didn’t realize I’d been drifting toward the curb. I pull into an empty spot in front of a flower shop, only a couple of blocks down from Gil’s. There’s no chance I’m in the space properly, but I need to get to Liam.
“You can’t shoot someone in the middle of downtown,” I yell.
But Liam’s already approaching the car, knocking on the window with the butt of the gun. When the window rolls down, it’s a scared-looking teenager holding his hands up by his shoulders.
I know this guy, I think. “Wait. Liam. Put the gun down.”
Liam glances my way but keeps his gun trained on the car window.
My phone rings in my back pocket. I ignore it as I draw closer, because the kid in the driver’s seat is definitely familiar. By kid I mean he’s maybe a year or two younger than me, so not really a kid. Liam must be rubbing off on me.
Okay, I feel like that sentence would be funny in a different scenario.
“Liam, I’m serious,” I say as I approach. “Stop. I know him. He was staying with Simon for a while. One of the other escorts.”
“You do know that escorts are criminals, Ravi.”
I want to roll my eyes at him so badly right now. “He’s not one. He was crashing on Simon and Sebastian’s couch for some reason.” I look at the wide-eyed driver. “Right?”
“R-right. Jacob.” His gaze bounces between me and Liam and occasionally over to Zed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who I was following.
I swear I wasn’t going to hurt anyone. There was a weird AppTasker request to follow someone around and say where they went.
Th-that’s all. I knew it was sketch, but also I kind of really needed the money. ”
My phone goes off again. When I pull it out, it’s Brennan.
“You needed something, little man?”
Why does everyone have to call me little? I know I’m not big. I don’t need it pointed out all the time.
“It’s fine now,” I tell Brennan. “Someone was following me, but it’s just this kid who used to live next door to Simon and Sebastian.”
“Jacob?” Brennan’s tone wakes me up. Brennan’s always seemed fairly unthreatening to me in spite of his reputation, but the way Brennan says that name sounds like a bullet seeking a target.
“Uhm. Yeah. That’s him. Liam’s talking to him now.”
“You tell that hostile asshole you live with he does not touch that kid. I’ll take his hand.”
So many questions. So many.
“Okay, that’s…” The sort of thing Liam would say. How did I end up here, in the middle of the street like a damsel in a weird gang soap opera? “You know what? I’m going to let you tell him yourself.”
So I hand over the phone while Liam keeps the gun in his right hand. He responds in a series of grunts to whatever Brennan’s saying before growling a clipped “You’d fucking better” and returning the gun to its holster.
He hands the phone back to me and then nods to Zed. “We need to move the car.” To Jacob, he adds, “Your guardian felon has asked that I keep an eye on you until he gets here. Which is fine, because I have some questions.”
“He’s not my—”
“I give zero fucks, Jacob.”
Why does the kid who’s younger than me get called by his name when to Liam I’m always “kid”?
My stomach chooses that moment to rumble again. Loudly.
Liam glances over at me and then points down the street to Gil’s. “Go get your damn burrito. As soon as Brennan gets here, we’ll go home.”
Then he grabs my chin and leans in, whispering for only me to hear. “You didn’t stay where you were supposed to. I owe you another punishment, kid.”