Page 71 of City of Wind and Lies

He hitches up his slacks, crouching down and inspecting my foot. His brows furrow as he tends to my wound in silence.

"It's not true," he says, smoothing out the tape he wrapped around to hold the band-aid in place.

My brow arches in question as he straightens to his full height, reading the confusion on my face.

"About Bowie," he clarifies.

I heave a sigh. "How would you know?"

He folds his arms across his chest. "It's my job to pay attention. And in the years I've worked for him, he’s never pursued a woman like he has you."

I'm pretty sure this is the most Dallas has ever spoken to me. Not that we aren't friendly or on good terms, he's usually just quiet with his stoic mask locked in place. I'd wondered if he even talked to Drea or if he just fucked her senseless, but I'm quick to push that thought from my mind.

"You think he'd care the same if I wasn't pregnant?"

"I know he would. There's been a stark change in his demeanor since you came into the fold." He runs a hand through his hair, and more and more, I can see the resemblance between him and Cami. "Look, Wren, for what it's worth, the kid at the club was right about Bowie's dad putting pressure on him. But Bowie would’ve managed to keep his spot regardless. So don't let his words get to you."

I let his words sink in, silently ruminating on them in the dark as Dallas puts away the first aid kit. After a beat, I slide off the barstool and hook a thumb over my shoulder. "I'm gonna head to bed."

He gives me a curt nod as I hobble off, trying not to put too much pressure on my foot. Pausing in the doorway, I swivel my head back toward the kitchen. "Dallas? Thank you, for all of that."

He grunts in response, a small grin playing at his lips as I head off for Drea's room.

Drea and I are both heavier sleepers, so it's no surprise to find her still fast asleep. Peeling back the comforter, I slip in behind her. Maybe if I'm not alone, I can manage to get a few hours of sleep tonight after all.

"Everything okay?" Drea asks, voice heavy with sleep as she turns over.

"I'm just worried that I'm just accepting things because Bowie gives me the same attention that Trey gave me in the start and I’ve confused that for love."

"He's better than Trey ever was," she comments sleepily.

"Yeah," I yawn, curling into the pillow and shutting my eyes.

"I think he's in love with you."

My stomach swoops and my heart thunders in my chest. Because I think I'm in love with him, too.

22

The heavy bass beat of 'Like A Villain' by Bad Omens thrums through the speakers of the gym as my fists connect with the heavy bag in steady succession.

Jab, cross.

My thoughts have been nothing less than unpleasant company since Wren stepped onto that elevator. I'd sat in the living room, drinking the whole decanter of whiskey from the bar cart, going over every painful detail of dinner. Would her reaction have been different if I had the chance to explain without Gabriel outing me and adding to the tension? I can't stop obsessing over the way Belluci looked at Wren. I know in his fucked up brain, he was evaluating what she'd bring on a nightly basis as an escort, or even how big the check would be if he put her up for auction.

Jab, cross, hook.

The morning after she left, my mood was just as miserable as the night before. I had shit to tend to at all my clubs. The front-of-the-house business was harder to suffer through, but lucky for me, a nice piece of back-of-the-house business fell into my lap.

It was nothing monumental, but god it felt fucking glorious to unleash some pent-up rage on the lackey Belluci had sniffing around my hangar. Rocco had brought the little fuck to the 708 club and stuck him in the basement like a prize for me to win if I finished all my paperwork.

The thought of laying my hands on him was motivation enough to get through the rest of the work I had. I practically skipped down the steps after I'd closed my laptop, the fluorescent lights flickering above where the shithead laid hog-tied on the concrete. I give him credit, he wasn't as forthcoming with information as I figured he would be, but after the heel of my shoe ground into his eye socket for a third time, he got real damn chatty.

Like we'd figured all along, Belluci and his gang of misfits were the ones stealing the drugs and cutting them before pushing them on the streets. This kid was a drone operator and had tripped one of the new motion sensors outside the fence as he was setting up. My guys were on him before he even got the thing off the ground. I could have easily killed him, but instead, I had Rocco drop him off on Belluci's doorstep with my message evident on the kid’s modified hands. Good luck flying a drone without thumbs.

Hook, hook, uppercut.

The reprieve from a little blood spill had only been temporary, because on the way home, I got a message from Dallas informing me of an encounter between Wren and Trey. She slapped him, so I know he said something that upset her, and that makes my blood boil hotter. Drea stepped in and he only ended up grabbing her by the shoulder, but he lost the right to touch her when he cheated on her. She's mine now, and he’s earned a permanent spot on my shit list for touching what’s mine.

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