Page 78 of City of Wind and Lies

Releasing my hands from his form, I rock back on my heels as he fishes his phone from his pocket. Dallas' name lights up the screen. While Bowie swipes to answer, I start shutting down my laptop and packing away my things.

"Dallas is downstairs."

I nod, shifting my bag on my shoulder. "So, I guess I'll see you later?"

He brushes his knuckles down the curve of my cheek, stopping beneath my chin and tilting it upward. "I'd love to promise you this will be quick, but that's not what he deserves. I will promise to show you just how much I love you tonight, though."

Those words send a ripple of need through me, soaking my panties in an instant.

Bowie escorts me to the parking garage, helping me into the Range Rover. His hand lingers on my stomach as he buckles my seatbelt. It's a subtle action, and one I secretly love. While Bowie’s gruff nature and dangerous swagger make me feral, his soft touches turn me to putty in his hands.

Shutting the door, he pauses to talk to Dallas before heading over to the Black BMW we drove in this morning. Then Dallas slides into the driver’s seat beside me, cranking the engine to life.

"So," I say as I shift forward, turning the early 2000's throwback station down. "Any plans with Drea this weekend?"

The corner of Dallas' mouth ticks up in a small smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Whatever," I scoff, rolling my eyes. "She'll give me all the details later anyways."

"Guess I should make it a story worth telling then, hmm?"

His eyes shift from me to the rearview mirror as he mutters a curse and whips the car down a side street.

"Dallas…?" I draw out in question.

"We're being followed," he answers, his tone hardening as his grip tightens on the steering wheel.

"What?!" I twist around to look behind us.

"Sit back," he barks. "Keep your head down, and whatever happens, stay in the goddamn car."

I murmur my agreement, panic washing over me as I do as I'm told for once.

We pick up speed, taking a left here, a sharp right there, as we weave through the heavy Friday afternoon traffic.

After what seems like a lifetime, Dallas' shoulders relax. "I think I lost them."

"Goo-"

The Range Rover surges forward, the sound of crunching metal and bursting glass ringing in my ears as we come to a sudden stop.

"FUCK!" Dallas shouts, fresh blood trickling down from a split in his eyebrow as he turns to face me. "Are you okay?"

"Uh, ye-yeah," I stutter, hand trembling as I run it through my hair.

He pulls his gun from his waistband, flicking off the safety as he shoves open his door. Glancing out my window through the side mirror, I see a man with dark hair climbing out of a black car with a smashed front end.

"You've got ten seconds to state your case before I paint the streets with your brains," Dallas spits, raising his gun.

"Easy," the unfamiliar voice calls out. "I'm just here to deliver a message."

I can't see what the man does next, but I hear him offer something for Dallas to take.

"Tell your boss to train his men to watch from afar."

Dallas' face is twisted in hate as he keeps his gun held high while the man gets back into the passenger side of the black sedan. It isn't until the car backs away and disappears from view that Dallas puts his gun away and bends over to pick up whatever the man tossed at him.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Dallas says, getting back into the Range Rover.

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