Page 119 of Underground Prince

I brought Theo Saxon, son of the Saxon crime syndicate, to my home.

Granted, it—and me—had been exposed to him previously, but it had been so brief, and I’d been so eager to leave that I’d assumed the impression hardly stayed with him. But then I remembered my black lingerie the first time, and a cotton towel the second.

Okay, so maybe it did.

He sat beside me in the town car, his head flopped back, the final meeting with Rada taking everything out of him. He’d had a rough twenty-four hours, and when he insisted we go to his place, I argued we drive to mine. Going back to that apartment of his, with its bare walls and cold air, hard stone and stiff leather, was like going to a luxury hospital.

While Verily and I were no homebodies, we made our little corner in the universe warm and inviting. Muted colors of peach, yellows and rose, vintage picture frames Verily prowled sidewalks for, spears of flowers in mason jars we plundered neighborhood windowsills for, our combined perfume scenting the air every morning…

My best friend. A mere eight hours since our fight, and I missed her.

During our drive, I’d checked my phone three times. No new messages, except a few plaintive words from Matt.

Air billowed out of my cheeks as downtown blurred past me, and I questioned where the rush had gone. Drug lords, mafia heirs, illegal game rooms, poker lessons with a top dealer, my best friend’s tears on my hands…my sister’s true love finding new love.

I think I liked it better when I was miserable and cranky under my covers.

The car slowed, and I patted Theo’s knee.

Nodding and rubbing his eyes with one hand, he slid out behind me, his exit out of the vehicle stiff and careful.

“Have you treated your bruises at all?” I asked as I held his elbow.

He shook me off, giving me a look. “Do you honestly believe you can hold all my weight?” he asked, limping slightly to my door.

“No idea. But I was going to try.” I unzipped my purse for my keys.

“I’d crush you.”

“At least then you’d be lying prone like you should’ve been doing the instant you slunk out of…wherever you and your brother had your battle royale.”

“My father’s living room.”

“Of course.” I slid the key in the lock. “Break anything?”

“A lamp. A Victorian-era side table. One of my mother’s oil paintings.”

I shouldered the door open, a disbelieving smile on my face. “No bronze statue heads?”

“If it were a cast of my father, that would’ve been the first to go.” He grinned, managing to be sexy with a purple shiner and an arm to his stomach. “As punishment for our Neanderthal problem-solving, my mother makes us pay for it all.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

I headed up the stairs first. A grunt sounded behind me and I descended as soon as it was clear Theo was having trouble.

“I don’t need your—”

“Shut up.” I wrapped an arm around his waist, yanking sideways until he was forced to lean on me.

We hobbled up together, and the more his muscles warmed up, the easier it was for him to move. It’d be a bitch when he lay still though, and I planned to have him do just that if I had to tie him against my couch with my leggings to do so.

I fumbled with my keys, Theo’s arm slung over my shoulder. As soon as we paused at the door, he swayed against me, sending me hopping.

“Told you,” he said.

Refusing to fold, I pushed until I was flush against him and bearing half his weight. “You told me shit.”

The door clicked open and we both hunched inside. As I expected, the place was dark and Verily was nowhere in sight.

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