Page 36 of Borden 3

Once he gave out his orders, he was assured, confident, but the way he gripped me told me otherwise. He saw it. The exchange. The familiar nearness of the father. He might have even caught my reaction, the way my shoulders tensed and my body froze.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Thirteen

Borden

After that man spoke to her, Emma had gone quiet. Borden cut the night short. Fuck the charity. He donated more than everyone combined; he didn’t need to linger around. If anyone wanted to talk business, they knew how to reach him.

Borden watched Emma’s every move as he led her out of the hall and to the car. He ignored the valet’s rambling words, some sort of compliment about his luxury car and how it was well looked after. He opened the door for Emma, eyeing her concealed expression as she slipped in.

He looked up briefly, searching for Hector and Gerry. He caught Gerry and Paolo climbing into a black car, ready to follow. Hector was nearby also, giving him a nod as he closed in on his bike. He was already out of his suit clothes and into his biker garb, and Borden understood the feeling. Sometimes he hated the suits and polished look. These days, he wanted to regress to his old ways. To the sweatpants and heavy sweaters.

As he rounded the car, he felt a dreaded emotion in the pit of him. He looked around, unusually paranoid that someone else was watching.

Something was seriously amiss, or maybe he was sensing Emma’s strange quiet.

He peeled out of there, ignoring the slight tremor in his hand because she was quiet. She wasn’t looking at him either. She was staring out the window, her face purposely angled so he could not see her expression.

Very fucking strange.

It wasn’t far into the drive when the silence began to make him feel…itchy and annoyed. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, the urge to hear the car rev loudly and race down the empty streets growing.

Instead, he quietly demanded, “Who was he?”

She didn’t react to the question. She expected it. She didn’t speak for a few moments. It was a few moments too fucking long in Borden’s books. He looked at her quickly, trying to gauge her body language.

She was too still.

“Emma,” he prodded, fighting for patience.

“A father,” she finally said. “He wanted me to meet his daughter. She…had these burns on her body. He did too.”

Borden’s brows pinched together. His mind raced with thoughts. He tried not to feel insulted. Truly. But she was treating him like he was capable of being so clueless. “Don’t try and steer the conversation, Emma. I’m no fool. Who was he?”

“Nobody,” she answered simply. She was so calm, it unnerved him. He wanted a reaction. Some kind of giveaway that there was more to it than that.

“He behaved unusually for someone that is a nobody to you,” he said. “And you looked like you had seen a fucking ghost when you looked at him.”

“You don’t know that,” she returned. “You’re just filling in gaps.”

“I saw it.”

“You didn’t. You were occupied with one of your business acquaintances.”

“Is that right?”

“Lately, you’re always occupied with them, Borden, so I’m right.”

“No, Emma, I wasn’t,” he returned swiftly. “When you’re with me, my sole focus is you. I am on guard all the fucking time. I saw it all. I even saw him before you noticed him. He had his eyes on you the whole time. Why do you think Hector was closeby?”

Now she turned her head to look at him with a puzzled expression. She said nothing, like she’d been caught red fucking handed.

“He looked starstruck at first,” Borden continued, recalling the man’s movements. “Like he’d laid eyes on an angel. And then something strange happened, doll. His eyes turned dark. He looked…angry.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. She blinked rapidly and turned her head away, concealing herself once more. “No more, Borden.”

“Emma—”

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