“I’ve been thinking about it pretty much nonstop.”
“No matter what happens, I want you to remember it. Okay?” A trickle of dread filters through my chest, but I nod as he continues. “You’re mine to protect. Hana is part of that deal. I won’t let anyone hurt either of you.”
Sliding my arms around his neck, his words replace the fear in my veins with calm satisfaction. When he turns my face and covers my mouth with his, my satisfaction turns to lust.
He might be falling in love with me, but I know I’m falling in love with him.
28
Hutch
The tone shifts the moment we touch down in New York. It’s in the tension in my muscles; it’s in the hardening of Blake’s expression, like she’s preparing for battle. It’s even in the way Hana is more fidgety and nervous. Scar is the only one quietly resolved, but his expression never changes.
I’m glad he’s with us. Heaviness and danger are all around, and I’m preparing to move the minute Dirk gives me the word.
I’ve filled Scar in on what Blake learned from Hana before we left. Ivan X could be anyone. Hell, once Blake told me her sister was on mushrooms, I realized his name might not even be Ivan. Either way, we’re starting with what we know.
“You’ve met this guy.” I’m sitting across from Scar, giving him the breakdown of Trip my brother sent us on the flight over.
He graduated from Iona Prep, dropped out of Columbia after two years. He’s into horses, gambling, and philandering, but no established criminal behavior. He doesn’t need to be a criminal. He’s a bored, entitled, trust-fund asshole who associates with shady as fuck characters.
With a low exhale, I realize the same could be said for Blake and Hana, the only difference is they’re trying to get out. Trip seems happy to stay right in the middle of it.
“Is he smart enough to be the leader?” Scar’s low voice is thoughtful.
My brother’s theory on mobster hierarchy drifts through my mind. “He’s smart, but I don’t think Trip’s the head vampire.”
Scar’s wolf eyes meet mine. “The problem with lesser vampires is they’re still fucking lethal.”
The problem is, I don’t think Trip’s necessarily lethal either. He’s something in between. “He's the skeleton key.”
Blake orders Asian takeout and has it delivered. Beef and broccoli for her, miso soup for Hana, sushi for Scar, and sweet and sour pork for me.
“It’s ecumenical,” she laughs, pulling the white paper boxes out of the brown bag. “All Asians are welcome here.”
I love that she’s making the best of a tense situation, considering the pressure we’re under. I know she’s worried about her sister, she’s worried about her friend, and she’s worried about the money.
I want to sweep her up in my arms and carry her away from this mess, but we have to settle these matters before I can do that. I’ve promised to get her money back. I promised her uncle to get these guys behind bars. I intend to keep both.
“How did the packing go?” My voice cuts through the shuffling of boxes and plastic cutlery.
“I’m all done.” Hana looks up from where she’s sipping chicken broth with a few chunks of tofu and seaweed.
“I’m pretty much done.” Blake bites the head off a steamed broccoli stem covered in deep brown gravy. “I have a few things left to pack, mostly books and items I don’t want left here unattended.”
“We’ll give it a day, and if nothing happens, I’ll go to Trip and get the ball rolling.”
“Natasha texted me wanting to get together.” Blake looks to Hana, who makes a face like she’s gagging. “I don’t know if we’ll follow up, but I don’t like not answering. It’s possibly the last time we’ll see her for a long time.”
“I didn’t think you liked Natasha.” Hana’s voice is soft, like she doesn’t want to speak in front of Scar and me. “You said she was an opportunistic mean girl.”
“She’s definitely fake.” Blake polishes off a thin slice of beef. “But she’s been really nice since Debbie. I think she’s trying to be a friend–as much as she knows how.”
Dinner is finished, and cleanup consists of carrying our trash to the bin in the kitchen. I’m all prepared to suggest Blake and I visit the roof while I wait to hear from my brother, but just like a good cock blocker, Scar catches my arm.
“Looks like our man is headed out. You ready?”
“We’ll give him a minute and follow.” I leave the Beretta in my duffel, strapping the Glock to my ankle.
I don’t expect to need it, but it’s always good to be prepared. Hesitating before we head out into the night, I go to where Blake’s standing in the kitchen holding a glass of wine.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be out. I want to track this guy everywhere he goes.”
She nods, setting her glass on the island. “Sundays aren’t typically party nights. Hopefully you’ll find what you’re after.”
“If not I’ll confront him. I won’t keep us here longer than necessary.”
“I’ll be glad when this is over.”
“If you decide to go out, just let me know where you are.” A little smile curls her lips, and she nods. I hook a finger under her chin, lifting her face so I can plant a light kiss on them. “Be safe.”
The Vogue is a typical, live music venue. A stage is in the back corner, and wooden tables and chairs line the walls. A VIP section is in the back, separated from the rest of the club by velvet ropes.
Naturally, that’s where Trip is headed. I come to attention when I see he’s meeting a guy I don’t recognize from any of our previous encounters.
New guy is dressed in jeans and a denim jacket off his shoulders. His flat-brimmed hat is tilted, and he looks like a low-rent gangster wannabe. It reminds me of what Blake told me about Hana’s memory. Ivan X always tried to be a tough guy like Greg.
This guy is nothing like Greg, but he’s definitely trying to look tough. Trip seems unaffected. He’s dressed in his usual slacks and blazer, this time in a rust-brown silk over a white shirt. He sits at the small table and signals the waiter.
“We can’t hear what they’re saying,” I grumble, turning to face the bar. “Not sure how useful this is going to be.”
Scar is hidden from Trip’s view by a thick column, and the low light and semi-crowded venue makes me hope he doesn’t recognize me. Not that I’m particularly worried about being spotted. It’ll simply up the timeline.
My phone buzzes, and I look down. It’s a text from Blake. Decided to hook up with Natasha and Rainey. Won’t be late.
I quickly reply with thanks, and my attention returns to Trip nursing a tumbler of clear liquid I assume is vodka. The new guy pulls out his phone and appears to be bored as he taps the screen several times.
Trip sits up and takes his phone out of his breast pocket, examining the screen and nodding. The guy shoots the beverage he was holding and stands, abruptly leaving. Trip remains seated, finishing his drink at a leisurely pace, a satisfied grin on his face.