He pressed closer as I struggled. “I’m sorry, Senator, please. I need to go find my husband, and I’m sure your wife is looking for you.”
“Don’t you worry about my wife,” he murmured, coming close, pushing me back toward the wall. I hit it with a thump and a painting of a boat on a stormy ocean rattled in its frame. “She’s somewhere. I’m Senator Lee, didn’t I mention that? You’re a pretty little thing.”
I clenched my jaw. I knew I’d have to hit him in a second, but I didn’t want to. I struggled again, tried to slip his grip—“You’re hurting me,” I said, but that didn’t seem to register—and looked around wildly for someone to help.
The bastard leaned down to press his lips against my bare chest with a hand appeared on his shoulder. I let out a gasp as he was yanked backwards. His fingers still dug into my shoulders, but they were torn away as he was spun around.
Reid stood there, his eyes wide with hate. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled.
“Who are you, you little shit? I was trying to get to know this young lady right here, and—”
Reid cocked his fist back and slammed it into Senator Lee’s face. I gasped, hands flying to my face, as the senator’s face snapped back and blood spurted from his nose. He gave a single grunt as he dropped to the floor in a drunken heap. Reid stood over him and I had to step up and grab his arm before he could do more.
“Stop,” I hissed. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I saw that bastard,” he said, eyes wide with rage. “He was touching you.”
“He’s drunk.” I pulled him. “Come on. We have to go.”
For a split second, I thought he’d do something worse. He looked like he wanted to murder the senator right then and there, wanted to kick the man until he stopped moving completely, and there was some horrible part of me that wanted to see it. Instead, he let out a frustrated, angry growl and let me pull him away.
“No violence, remember?” I said. “I was going to handle that myself.”
“That motherfucker. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Before we reached the main room again, he dropped and pulled me back toward him.
I stumbled in my heels and let him wrap his arms around me. “I’m fine,” I said, looking up into his concerned eyes. “Really, he didn’t do anything.” Though the ghost of his fingertips still lingered in my shoulders.
I knew he wanted to do more. I could see him wrestling with the idea. I reached up and touched his face and put on the best smile I could before standing up tall and tilting my chin up toward him.
He kissed me then. I knew it’d be a good distraction for him—but didn’t realize how badly I wanted it. We held that kiss for several seconds before I relaxed and pulled away.
“Come on,” I said, taking his hand. “Let’s go before the senator wakes up.”
“State senator,” he said. “The fat fuck.”
I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips as I pulled him back through the party. We got some looks, but I didn’t think anyone knew what happened, and I had a feeling Senator Lee wouldn’t be talking about it anytime soon, not if he didn’t want his wife to find out.
We stepped out into the cool night and Reid got his car back from the valet. He got inside and I squeezed into the passenger side. He leaned across the center console and kissed my neck, sending a shiver down my spine, before pulling out and leaving that house behind us.
13
Reid
I got up early and hit the streets the next morning, thoughts of Cora in that tiny little dress still playing through my mind. I wanted to peel her bare when we got home—but she ditched me and disappeared into her room instead. I think I pissed her off when I knocked out that fat state senator asshole, but he was drunk and he more than deserved what he got.
Enrico was waiting for me at a coffee spot on Passyunk Avenue. He slid a white enameled cup across the table toward me and I took a sip as he looked around, one arm slung over the back of the booth.
“I got news,” he said.
“Yeah? Better be good. I’m sick of bad news.” The coffee was strong and had a strange berry aftertaste—I made a mental note to come back to this place, even though it was the kind of hipster spot where they drew flowers in the lattes and everything had an industrial wood-and-metal vibe.
“I think you’ll like this.” He cleared his throat and leaned toward me. “I think I know where Jarvis has been.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? You don’t sound too sure.”
“It’s not perfect, but a guy I know spotted him a few times at this bar out near the river.”
“Spotted him at a bar.” I stared at Enrico and shook my head. “That’s not exactly solid.”
“I know, but it’s the best I got right now. Aldrik’s there right now scouting the place out.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the text messages. “Says, and I quote here, ‘this place is a total fucking shithole, so Jarvis definitely comes here.’ That’s the best I got for you right now.”
I grunted and leaned back in my chair. The coffee was good, but the intel wasn’t so great—still, better than nothing. “Text him back. Do they serve food?”
He rubbed his face. “I’m not your fucking hostess.”
“Do it, asshole.”
He typed and waited until Aldrik messaged back. “Yeah. Says it’s a decent menu actually.”
“Good.” I finished the coffee and stood. “I think I’ll have dinner there tonight.”
Enrico smiled, head tilted. “Should me and Aldrik show up as well?”
“If you’re sitting at the bar around eight tonight, I wouldn’t be upset.”
“Okay, great, I hear you.” He hesitated. “Uh, just to be clear, you mean you want us to show up at eight, right?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Jesus, you’re an asshole. Yes, Enrico, be there at eight. Sit at the bar, don’t be obvious.”
“Got it, right, will do, boss.”
“And don’t come up to me if you see me there. Cora won’t know.”
“You’re bringing the girl?”
I nodded and turned away toward the entrance. An older man in a stained denim shirt came through, his beard bushy and graying—he could’ve been a rich artist or homeless, it was hard to tell sometimes.
“Good cover. You got your orders.” I left the coffee place and drove around the city for a while, running through plans and contingencies in my head.
Barnacled Rooster truly was a piece of shit like Aldrik said, but it was packed when I parked out front. It was in a quiet neighborhood right off Delaware Avenue, within spitting distance of the river. Cora slipped her hand through my arm as we walked toward the place, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a matching dark sweater, and I wished we were going somewhere a little bit fancier so I could’ve seen her in one of those dresses.
Still, I liked that she was comfortable with me—she didn’t hesitate to take my arm, and she didn’t seem to think it was strange to hang on me like that, even if she was still quick to remind me that our marriage was a goddamn sham.