Page 35 of Brutal
And she’s definitely not telling me everything.
I should probably turn away from her and never look back.
Instead, all I want to do is run toward her.
I think of her sitting across from me at dinner in that dark dress, of the soft flush on her cheeks after I called her on what she was looking for, of the way she looked at me outside the restaurant as if she wanted me to kiss her and hated herself for wanting it.
“Samson.”
“What?” I say, irritated at him for interrupting my thought.
“She isn’t a diversion,” he says. “That would be simpler. She’s a problem.”
“Why would she be a problem?”
He draws in a breath. “So you’ve made up your mind then.”
“I have.”
“So why the summons?”
“You told me to pay attention,” I say. “So I did. I wanted your read. Now I have it.”
“Do you?” he asks. “Are you ready to burn when you put your hand in the fire?”
I smile despite myself. “You’re always so dramatic.”
“Dramatic, maybe. Right? Always.” He turns and heads for the door.
I let him go three steps before I speak.
“Keep looking into her.”
Nate pauses with his hand on the knob but doesn’t look back. “I already planned to.”
“Good.”
He opens the door. “And Sam?”
“Yes.”
“When this goes bad, don’t insult me by pretending you didn’t see it coming.” He closes the door as he leaves.
I stand alone in the office and reach for my glass again. The bourbon has mellowed a bit. I walk to the window overlooking the club floor.
It’s all so predictable.
Delaney is not.
I pull out my phone and look at the thread between us. My last message sits there, unread.
Next time you come to me.
A command, yes.
An invitation too.
I lock the screen and slip the phone away.
