Page 96 of Jace
“Where are you taking me?” I clock the pistol on the console. “And where is Jace?”
He plucks a toothpick from the mesh of his backward baseball cap, offering it to his lush lips. “I got strict orders to take you straight to your king’s lair. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”
“This isn’t Monopoly.”
“Got that right. It’s Mafia.” He winks at me. “But we ain’t supposed to say it, are we?”
I deadpan, “You just did.”
“Whoops.” He smirks, chewing his toothpick. “Guess I got carried away. Tend to do that.”
My glare volleys between him, his gun, and our route. I’d be scared if I didn’t trust Jace. If I didn’t feel oddly safe with this wild man, playing Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.”
But then, he takes his toothpick out, tucks it back into the mesh of his hat—yuck—and starts crooning the song about beingcrazy in love. Sounding way too good as he takes the wrong turn, away from Delta’s.
“What… what…” I turn around, watching the right intersection disappear. “Where are you going? You said Jace ordered you to take me straight to him.”
“Know what I hear every time someone makes a rule?” He bounces his bad-boy brows. They’re dark blond like his shaggy hair. “I hear a rule I need to break.”
My pulse skyrockets, my glare scanning the cabin of this SUV, looking for anything I can weaponize. Suddenly, I wish I’d worn stilettos, not sandals, so I could stab his throat with the heel.
He chuckles, spying my fear.
“Aw, now, darlin’, don’t worry. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty golden hair on your claimed head. I’m talking about breaking hearts.”
Slowly, he turns right, letting our SUV crawl by a corner law office. Leaning across me, he doesn’t hide that he’s scoping the place out, that he’s curious, if not outright stalking the location.
I glance over, gasping as I realize it’s Harlow’s office. Her loft apartment is right above it.
Suddenly, it all falls together.
“Oh my god.” I whip around, confronting him. “You’re Wilder Lawless, aren’t you?”
He angles back, half flattered, half plotting my murder. “Who wants to know? Other than Jace Ryan’s queen?”
“How about Harlow Sutton’s best friend?” I narrow my eyes. “I’ve heard all about you.”
Harlow hates him. He broke her heart. He was her first loveandher first criminal.
I don’t know how to describe his smile at the mention of her name. Innocent. Injurious. Enamored. Evil.
He refocuses on the street, driving away. “Nah, just looking for a good lawyer. Gonna need one.”
I don’t say another word as my mind reels, deciding what to tell Harlow.
Is she in danger? Is she being stalked? Is this unrequited love or unmitigated revenge?
Shit, if I tell her, then I’ll have to explain how I crossed paths with Wilder Lawless in the first place. You know, my I’m-in-love-with-an-ex-Bratva-prince Mafia path that I can’t tell her about.
It turns my mouth into a locked vault. I don’t say another word as Wilder finally parks outside Delta’s, where I belong.
Quickly, I yank the door open and leap out, grabbing my camera bag.
“Not so fast.” Wilder jumps out after me. “I gotta deliver you safely, or I’ll get my balls delivered down my throat.”
Holstering the gun on his hip, an outlaw like him must love that this state allows him to openly carry a firearm. To the rest of us, it’s like living in the Wild West, minus the west.
Opening the SUV’s hatch, he drawls, “Grab your suitcase, little lady. Let’s go.”
