Saying as much won’t change what he’s going to do, though. “Good luck.”
“I hear the doubt in your voice and I’m choosing to ignore it. I’m just looking for a good time, Ruby, not a spouse. Tatiana and I will have that good time and then we’ll go our separate ways.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Are you hanging out longer?”
“No, I think I’m good.”
“I’ll wait with you while you call a car.”
I know better than to argue with him. And, honestly, with Wolf’s threats still ringing in my ears, I don’t relish the idea of standing on a dark street corner by myself. “Okay.”
We close out our tabs and wait in comfortable silence on the curb for the car to show up. We’re headed in opposite directions, so I don’t offer to share with him. And, to be perfectly honest, I want some time alone to think about what happened tonight.
“Hey, Ruby.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you’re back.” He slings an arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “I missed having you around.”
“I missed you too.”
It’s not until I’m in the car that the horrible reckless feeling rises again, not remotely sated by my activities of the night. It’s the only explanation I have for pulling out my phone and sending that picture of Tatiana’s fingers and lipstick on my pussy to Wolf.
The message changes over to read, and I hold my breath as I wait for a response.
He doesn’t type anything. Not on the ride home. Not as I’m showering. Not as I’m lying in my bed, staring at my phone. When I wake up in the morning, not sure when I passed out, he still hasn’t texted me back.
7
“Ruby, I know you’re entering your loveable slut era, but there are lines.”
I carefully apply brilliant-scarlet lipstick in the mirror. “You’ve been to the Broken Tree before.”
“Yeah, which is why I know it’s a bad idea.” Michelle clears her throat. “Look, that was the one place where my dad lost his shit and stepped in. Do you know how humiliating it is to be collected by your father at a bar? Now multiply that by two because that’s what you’ll be experiencing when your dads find out.”
“They aren’t going to find out.” I finish with the lipstick and admire the effect. “I look good.”
“Of course you do.” Michelle actually seems worried in the video chat on my phone. “At least let me come with you.”
“No.” I finger comb my hair a bit to give it a just-been-fucked look. “The last thing I need is Uncle Hook ruining my fun, which is what he’ll do if you step foot in that place again.”
“Ruby.” Michelle leans back. “If you want to fuck someone dangerous, we can make that happen. You were acting reckless last night, but this is on another level. We could go to the Underworld—”
I stop her with a glare. “You know damn well why I’m not going to the Underworld—which is the same reason you don’t go there. The last thing I want is for people who are practically family to witness me getting kinky and wild.” Not that I’m overly kinky by nature . . . or at least I haven’t explored that because where would I explore that? At the Underworld, where my parents have a damn sex date every Saturday? No, thanks.
“Ruby.” Michelle sighs. “Meg can be very discreet. She’s set up a session for me a time or two in one of the private rooms. We could—”
“No.” If the situation were different, that might actually be an attractive offer, but the one thing the Underworld doesn’t have is my stalker. Wolf. Which should be a mark in the positive column. Safe, sane, and consensual are the hallmarks of good kink. There’s nothing safe or sane about meeting a man who’s been stalking me, one I suspect of being a murderer, in a bar that’s decidedly not safe. Can’t pretend it’s not consensual, though. He’s hardly showing up and kidnapping me.
The thought makes my thighs clench, which just goes to show that I’m not acting rationally. I don’t care. I’m in a free fall, and I don’t know whether I’ll land safely or smash myself to pieces. It doesn’t matter, because it’s too late to stop. “I’ll text you when I get there and do regular check-ins.”
Michelle worries her full bottom lip. “If something goes wrong—”
“It won’t.”
“You can say that with all the confidence in the world, but that doesn’t mean you can brazen your way out of a bad situation.” She hesitates. “What’s going on with you?”
“If you want to talk about what’s going on with me, then maybe we should talk about what happened last night. Were you pissed because Zayne wanted to fuck Tatiana or because she wanted to fuck us?”
Her expression closes down. “Neither. It had nothing to do with that.”
“Okay, then what was it about?” When she doesn’t immediately answer, I nod. “Thought so. I love you, I appreciate you, and I’ll call you later.”
“Goddamn it, Ruby!”
I hang up and step back, getting a good look at myself in the mirror. Michelle’s right to be worried. I’m out for trouble. My black skirt barely covers the essentials, and I left off panties, as ordered. My crimson top is a faux-leather underbust corset that leaves a slice of stomach exposed and does wonders for my breasts, which are only covered in a matching lace bra. My only practical choice is my footwear; I went with chunky boots instead of heels.
The better to run for my life when this horrible plan inevitably goes south.
Why are you doing this?
I didn’t have an answer when I started getting ready. I still don’t have one an hour later when I walk through the door of the Broken Tree.
Michelle wasn’t joking. This place reeks of trouble. It’s dim and wreathed in smoke. Every single person here, regardless of gender, possesses an air of danger that has me fighting not to make myself smaller. I square my shoulders. I am not prey. I am the heir to the Belmonte territory, and I will not be cowed by a bar full of enforcers.
No one approaches me as I walk to the bar, but I can feel people’s attention trailing in my wake. The woman behind the bar is small and has medium-brown skin and bright teal locs. She raises her brows. “You lost?”
“Taking a different path tonight.”
She shrugs. “Suit yourself. What’ll you have?”
“Bourbon. Straight.”
She smirks a little, but she pours me a stiff drink and accepts the cash I slide across the bar. Then she moves down to the next patron without another word.
I lean against the bar and sip my drink, letting the alcohol take the edges off the fear curling through me. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t be here. What the fuck was I thinking? If I leave now . . .
I feel the change in the bar the moment he walks through the door. Even as I tell myself to maintain my position, I turn and look. Wolf. He has to be.
He’s older than I expected. I tell myself it’s not disappointment I feel at the silver in his long hair. He’s attractive in a brutal sort of way, pale skin weathered from the years. He wears a suit well enough; it’s expensive and tailored to his broad body. I doubt he’s one of ours, but he’s obviously high up in whatever territory he owes allegiance to. His dark eyes land on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to cross to stand in front of me.