Chapter 23
Mia
The bell over the door chimes when I walk into Old City Records.
Connor pokes his head out from the backroom and waves with a bright smile. He strolls down the center aisle toward me. “You’re early.”
I glance at my wrist to check the time. “Only by a few minutes.”
“I was cleaning up in the storeroom. Do you mind holding down the fort until I finish?”
“Go right ahead. I can handle the customers.”
I slip behind the counter and drop my purse to the shelf beneath the register.
Connor taps his fingers against his thigh as the beat picks up, and John Lennon’s voice comes through the overhead speakers.
An awkward pause passes between us, where he hums the tune, staring out the window that spans the front of the store.
“I love this song,” he says. “I’ve been rocking out to The Beatles all day. They help me clear my head.”
“I can see that.” I sit on the stool behind the counter and prop my feet up on the small wooden ledge.
Connor’s behavior is odd, but it doesn’t prove a thing. All of my leads ran cold before I could make any headway. Fred has been crawling up my ass about my lack of information. He even threatened to remove me from the case, so I must step up my game.
“Were you busy today?”
Connor shrugs. “An older couple stopped by around lunchtime. They were looking for Abbey Road. That’s what got me in this mood. Other than that, I’ve had a pretty quiet day.”
When my cell phone dings, I fish it from my purse and smile when I see Ethan’s name on my screen.
“I’ll let you take that,” Connor says. “I have to get back to work. We can order a pizza later if you want. My treat.”
I flash a closed-mouth smile. “Sounds great. Thank you.”
Once Connor disappears into the back of the store, I read the text message from Ethan.
Ethan
I need to see you. Dinner later?
Mia
I have to work until ten.
Ethan
I’ll pick you up.
Mia
See you then.
The countdown until Ethan and Will move back into their apartment started a few days ago. My heart aches with each passing day. He wants to tell Will about us. I do, too. But both of us are afraid of losing Will over our relationship.
I’ve grown accustomed to kissing Ethan before bed and eating breakfast with Will in the morning. I’ll miss both of them for different reasons. At least we have a few more days together.
Twice in over two hours, Connor stepped out from the back office. Once, Connor said he was running down the street to grab a soda from the pharmacy. The other time, a pizza. He returned with a duffle bag over his shoulder from his pharmacy run and a pizza in his hand the next.
We ate a few slices together and talked about vinyl records, all while I tried to uncover more information about his business.
Same as usual, I got nothing. Connor covers his tracks well.
Or at least he did a pretty good job of it before a dark-haired man in his late twenties strolls through the front door.
Dressed in a black suit fitted to his muscular frame and a crisp white oxford, this man screams money. Lots of it. He shoves a hand through his dark, wavy hair and fixes his gaze on me.
“You must be new,” he says.
He’s maybe ten years older than me and easy on the eyes. A thin scar sweeps across his right cheek, intensifying his dark, masculine features.
I give him a polite smile and nod. “I started a few weeks ago. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
He scans my face before his gaze falls to my breasts. “Is Connor here?”
“Who should I say is here to see him?” I slide off the chair and approach the other side of the counter, awaiting his response.
“An old friend.” That’s all he offers. He tilts his head to the back of the store. “Is he in his office?”
Noting the change in my expression, he takes that as a yes.
Before I can get in another word, the man darts past me.
I follow behind him, begging him to wait, but he’s determined to get to Connor.
Signals go off in my brain, red flags waving one after the other.
All night, Connor has been acting strange.
Then, his old friend shows up unannounced.
How convenient.
Maybe tonight is the night.
Every lead I’d followed was completely bogus until now.
The strip club was a waste of time. The only illegal thing about that place was the price of the drinks.
My stakeouts with Clarke were only snack-induced comas filled with stale coffee and girl talk.
At least it gave me a reason to spend more time with Clarke outside the office.
Still, it would’ve been nice to gain some intel or at least one solid lead.
The man pushes open the cracked door with the tip of his shoe, revealing a surprised Connor. He looks at the man, horror scrolling his face, and then to me. His expression softens when he locks onto me.
“Can you give us a minute, Dora?” Connor clears his throat and swallows.
I almost laugh every time he uses my fake name. “Sure.”
The man steps inside the small office and closes the door behind him. Pressing my back against the wall, I crane my neck to listen and hear nothing, not a single sound. They must be waiting for me to leave.
Dammit.
I tiptoe down the hall, hoping to catch a bit of their conversation.
But I can’t hear a thing. I should’ve come to work more prepared.
On my stakeouts with Clarke, we brought listening devices.
Of course, now I need them. I rushed out the door, afraid to be late for my second job, and forgot the gadgets in my cubicle.
Connor spends a lot of time in his office and never forgets to lock up before he leaves. Whatever he’s hiding must be inside. I can’t make out a single word spoken behind his closed door.
The Mafia funnels most of the cocaine and heroin in the country through Philly.
Even though Connor seems innocent enough, I’m not here because he’s some average Joe.
Connor is a drug dealer, and who knows what else, but I have to prove it first. I have to get this story no matter the cost. A few of my colleagues launched their careers with one story.
I could do the same with a high-profile case like the Old City Records Ring.
After twenty minutes of waiting, maybe more, I jump at the sound of the bell ringing throughout the store. There’s a rustling inside Connor’s office. I make a beeline for the front counter, the nervous energy pushing me to move faster.
Relief washes over me when I spot Ethan flipping through a box of records.
“Hey.” I close the distance between us and thread my fingers between his.
He squeezes my hand and smiles.
“I have another half hour before I can leave. Do you mind waiting?”
He shakes his head, and a dark strand of hair falls before his bright green eyes. My heart claws at my chest. He’s beautiful, absolute perfection, and all mine.
“Of course not,” he says. “For you, I have all the time in the world.”
The corners of my mouth turn up into a wicked grin. “Stop trying to flatter me.”
“Flattery will go far tonight.” He laughs. “That was Will’s fortune the night we went to Scores. He opened a cookie at Chinese Garden before we met you and Clarke.”
As Connor and his friend strut down the center aisle toward us, I say, “Try to behave yourself,” I say under my breath. “That’s my boss.”
He glances up from my face. His eyes narrow as he looks at Connor and the man beside him. They stop in front of us. Connor smiles. His friend flexes his jaw.
Connor studies Ethan’s face, and recognition sparks in his eyes. “I know you. Waters, right? I haven’t seen you in a long time. What’s it been? Like ten years.”
Ethan shoves his hands into his jeans pockets, his body growing rigid. “Yeah,” Ethan replies after a long pause.
Do they know each other?
Connor’s gaze travels between Ethan and me. “You two together?”
I nod. “Ethan’s picking me up.”
Connor smirks. “I didn’t know you were down with that.” His words confuse me. “How much are you looking to cop?”
I narrow my eyes at Connor, confused by his unusual question, until I realize he’s asking me if I want to buy drugs.
What the fuck?
“We’re not,” Ethan says before I can answer.
The dark-haired man adjusts the black duffel Connor brought back over his shoulder earlier. He slips out the door, and Ethan and I stand awkwardly in front of Connor.
Connor peeks up at the clock on the wall behind the counter. “You can leave early. I’ll close up tonight.”
I flash a closed-mouth smile at Connor and reach behind the counter for my purse. “Thanks. Have a good night.”
“You, too.” Connor stretches his hand out for Ethan to shake. “Waters, you know where I am. Come see me. Anytime.”
Ethan leads me outside with his hand on my back, his nervous energy shaking through me.
I live a few blocks from the record store. We make a left toward my apartment without speaking. Where do I begin? I have so many questions.
“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, ending the silence between us.
“No, Connor ordered pizza. Are you?”
He shakes his head. “The only thing I’m hungry for is your pussy.”
I smile, but it quickly fades. “What was that about, E? How do you know Connor? Why did he think you would want to buy drugs?”
He looks down at his feet, his gaze moving upward, when a man in a Flyers T-shirt says to his friend, “I think that’s Ethan Waters.”
Ethan acknowledges them with a feigned smile and a nod. The boys don’t stop us. We keep moving down Market Street. Ethan has a strained expression on his face that gives me the chills, his disposition so cold and gloomy I can’t stop wondering what happened back at the store.
“Answer me, E.” My tone catches his attention. “How do you know Connor?”
“We were friends a long time ago.”
“Connor is a drug dealer.”
He shrugs. “I’m a hockey player.”
“Don’t do this. Please tell me the truth. You damn well know that I’m working at Old City Records on a case. Stop being so cryptic with me. I need answers.”
“That part of my life is in the past.” He grabs my hand when we cross the street at the stoplight. “Let’s leave it at that.”
“No,” I say loud enough to garner the attention of a couple passing us. “That’s not good enough. You owe me some answers.”
“Keep it down,” he growls, his voice deep and low.
He’s reverting to the asshole that returned years ago.
Once we reach my building, he drags me into the dim hallway and up the three flights of stairs.
Ethan releases his grip on my hand when we get to my apartment.
I remove the keys from my purse and open the door for us.
Within seconds of shutting it behind us, Ethan has me pinned against the wall with his big body.
“Will isn’t coming home tonight,” he says.
“I know. He texted me earlier.”
Ethan leaves a trail of hot breath along my skin as he fumbles with his zipper. “I want your pretty lips wrapped around me.”
“Why are you acting like this? Fucking answer me!” I yell so loud it’s as if something inside me snaps. “I’m so sick of this shit. You can’t go into that dark place. Years ago, you did the same thing and pushed me away. Not every problem in your life can be solved with sex. Talk to me, Ethan.”
“Why?” He presses his palms to the wall on each side of my head. “So you can write a story about me? My life is not for sale. It’s not something I want on display for the entire world.”
My heart aches. “You don’t trust me?” I stare into his eyes to gauge his reaction. “I thought by now you would know I can keep a secret. I would never use anything you tell me, personal or professional, to sell papers.”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for being an asshole or sorry because you won’t tell me?”
He opens his eyes. They hold so much sadness that tears well up in my bottom lids.
“For being an asshole.”
“Please, E.”
He grazes my cheek with his thumb and catches a fallen tear. “I’m sorry, Mia. For everything. I didn’t want to leave you behind. But I didn’t have a choice. My dad forced me to go back to Boston.”
“Was your grandmother ever sick, or was that another lie?”
“A lie,” he admits. “I lived with my grandmother, but she wasn’t sick.”
I grip his shirt between my fingers and pull him close enough that our lips almost touch. “Why did you leave? I want to know everything or—”
He brushes his lips against mine. “Or what?”
The heat from his breath hardens my nipples, the tiny buds aching for his mouth and hands, begging to be touched. I’m powerless when it comes to Ethan. And he knows it.
“Or we can’t do this anymore,” I counter.
He sweeps his tongue across my bottom lip. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you want.”
His husky voice sends chills down my spine. “What do you want?” I play dumb, and that earns me a cocky smirk.
“Get on your knees,” he orders. “Take out my cock.”
I shake my head. “No, talk to me first.”
A few seconds tick by before he says, “I had an addiction. That’s how I know Connor. He was my dealer. The hospital prescribed painkillers to dull the pain from the accident. I was so fucked-up in the head after Erik died…” his voice trails off, and when I peek up at him, his eyes are closed.
He leans forward and presses his left hand to the wall with his gaze fixed on me.
“I was addicted to opiates. Anything I could get my hands on. That’s why my dad moved us here.
He thought it would help me get my act together.
But I sought out the stoners at school. They hooked me up with Connor, who was just a street dealer back then. ”
Ethan was on drugs.
My Ethan.
“Back in Boston,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I went through a detox program that no one ever found out about.”
“Thanks for telling me. Your secret is safe with me.” I move my hand over my heart. “I promise.”
He kisses my forehead and then grazes my cheek with his thumb. “I know. But this also means you can’t write a story about it. If Connor ever found out that you had anything to do with it, he would expose me and kill you. They’re not the kind of people you want to fuck with. Understood?”
“But the story could make my career.”
“It would ruin mine and get you killed,” he spits back.
“I’m not into that shit anymore. I got clean a long time ago.
” He bites the inside of his cheek, his nerves showing.
“My career isn’t my biggest concern… it’s you and your safety.
Those men are dangerous, Mia. A little lamb like you, so gentle and pure, doesn’t stand a chance against wolves like them. ”
He’s right.
I nod. “I’ll back off. For you. For us.”
“Thank you.” Ethan kisses me. “It’s hard enough taking care of you without any complications. You’re so stubborn, Mia.”
I peek up at him and smile. “It’s part of my charm.”