7
Mia
Grant droveme to my place so I could get the rest of my clothes and move out. The lady I was living with was out of town, so I wrote her a letter giving my thirty-day notice, and Grant left her cash for another thirty days of rent. I was almost sad leaving my private apartment of secrets behind for my new prison with Grant as my personal guard, but I didn’t say anything, and I didn’t look back when I left.
I was too consumed by Grant’s confession that Joaquín had known this whole time that I had been raped. I couldn’t think of a single reason why he wouldn’t say anything to me. Had he been waiting for me to open up to him? Was that what set us down the path of keeping things from each other?
I got ready for my shift at The Pickled Frog in a fog of indecision and what-ifs. I pulled on a tight T-shirt over my head and slipped my jean skirt over my hips, making sure Grant watched me. I may have been lost in my own head, but I didn’t ever forget he was there . . . watching me. I could feel how much he wanted me and how hard he was trying to deny it to himself.
I climbed on the back of his bike and he drove on the freeway to the bar. I wondered how many more nights Grant would allow me to work here. Mitch and Grant both knew my secret, so it was only a matter of time before one of them ousted me to the entire SEAL team. I should probably get out before that, just to ensure my cover and all the hard work I put into it weren’t blown sky high.
We arrived at the bar, and I dismounted Grant’s bike. He put his arm around me and grabbed my ass.
“As far as my Team is concerned, you are my woman. Don’t start acting all crazy in there and interrogating people. I’m doing some investigating on my own. Your job tonight is to be Ksenya the bartender. That it. Last time you worked here, you were followed and then run off the road. I’m here to protect you.”
“Seriously, Grant. I have been working here for a week and you give me a speech like that? I get that you need to be in control, and I’ll give you that. But don’t talk to me like I’m five and stupid.”
His lips pressed into a tight line, but he didn’t say anything else as I re-centered myself back into Ksenya’s world.
The bar was packed, even for a Friday night, but there was no sign of Paul or Autumn yet or even Mitch.
After an hour or so, Autumn showed up dressed in a turquoise mini skirt and tight white tank top. All eyes in the room zeroed in on her, and she seemed to take in every single one of them before claiming the last open seat at the bar.
“Hey, girl! Oh my god! This place is amazeballs. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. There are so many smoking hot guys here. Tell me! Who’s single?”
“Most of men here are not with only one woman. What it is you want to drink?”
“I’ll have a beer. Whatever you have on tap.”
I poured her the beer as she scanned the room, her smile widening as Mitch walked in with Paul and a man I’d never seen before. He was dark skinned, around forty, built, and covered in tattoos. Mitch made a beeline straight for me, and I felt Grant’s gaze focused on us.
Mitch eye fucked me and sat next to Autumn. “Hey, Ksenya. This is Rafael, a friend of mine.”
Rafael! The number in Mitch’s phone? “It is pleasure to meet together with you. What it is I can get for you to drink?” I tried not to let my eyes stray from Rafael as Paul slid into the seat next to him.
Rafael ordered tequila on the rocks and then turned his focus to Autumn. “I’d like to buy a drink for this pretty lady, as well.”
Autumn’s smile widened into an animated arch of lips, but if she were SEAL hunting, she was way off mark—this guy didn’t even look like a former Team guy.
It was only after I served Rafael and Autumn that I turned to Paul. He looked wrecked, worse than I’d seen him before. Even when he had a mission go wrong, Paul hadn’t looked so distraught.
I leaned over the table and touched Paul’s hand. “Why it is you look so sad?”
Paul sighed. “Nothing. Just a long week. I’ll take a draft.” Just that like, I had been dismissed, which was fine for now. I made myself scarce but kept my eyes on the trio, noting the way Paul kept glancing at Autumn. The looks weren’t in an “I want you” way. They were more knowing glances, sometimes an unspoken communication that you only ever really see in couples or co-workers. I knew both had been at the party the night Tiffany died, but neither Mitch nor Grant had ever said anything about Paul hooking up with anyone. Well, Paul was married, but that ring didn’t mean much to these guys. The only piece of metal that bound these men was those damn tridents that were literally stapled to their chests.
Mitch made his way over to Grant and whispered something in his ear. Grant nodded and then glanced back at me.
I returned to Paul, Rafael, and Autumn. Paul didn’t say a word to either of them, and Rafael and Autumn were in deep conversation. Autumn was batting her eyelashes, laughing at his jokes, and had even put her hand on his thigh. He whispered something into her ear, and a flush crept across her cheeks.
Something inside me twisted. Again, that feeling that something was off. Autumn had told me time and time again she wanted a Team guy. This guy didn’t look like one at all, especially with the tattoo of a barbed wire on his neck. What the hell was he doing hanging out with a bunch of SEALs? Maybe he and Mitch were just old friends. It was still strange.
I caught Autumn’s eyes, which was quite the feat, and glanced pointedly to the restrooms.
She turned to Rafael. “I’ve got to run to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
She hopped off her stool, grabbed my hand, and took me into the bathroom.
“What’s up?” She asked, pressing her back against the closed door.