Page 97 of Black Bird

Sarah: I’m coming out. Park a little ways down the street and I’ll walk down.

When he rounded the corner and passed her apartment, he didn’t see her in the throng of people outside the building. He did as she asked and found a spot on her side of the street. It wasn’t a far walk, butdepending on what she was wearing it might prove a bit uncomfortable. Brent got out of the car and waited by the passenger side door until he heard heels clacking on the sidewalk and turned his face toward it.

God help him.She was devastating.

Her hair was down and curled at the ends. Her black dress was fitted to her bust and hugged her slim waist, the thick shoulder straps draped loosely down the side of each of her shoulders. The skirt flowed elegantly to the ground with a split that was cut clean up her pale, tattooed thigh. The closer she got, he realized the gown was made of crushed black velvet. She’d be giving the tabloids something to talk about tonight. Sarah St. James was dressed tokill. Two officers in uniform flanked her as she strode toward him.

“I’ll go ahead and assume by your vacant expression that this is appropriate?” she asked, slowing in front of him.

Brent swallowed. “I’d say so, yes ma’am.”

“Get your fill. That’s the only time I better catch you eye-fucking me tonight.”

One of the cops huffed a laugh behind her.

“You look beautiful … really. And I mean that in the most respectful way.” Brent smirked, opening the car door. Sarah dismissed his compliment and turned to her watch dogs.

“I appreciate all you’ve done, but I need you guys to give me some space tonight. I promise …” She held her palms up. “I won’t do anything ridiculous. Scout’s honor.”

“That’s not really how this works, Miss St. James. The only one who can give us clearance is Northwood or Kane. If they say we can leave you on your own, then we will. Otherwise … you’re kind of stuck with us. I’m sorry.” The cop with the thin mustache shrugged. Brent shifted on his feet, remembering his conversation with Kane. He assumed Sarah wasn’t aware when she didn’t retort and decided he would keep those details to himself, lest he fuck up yet again.

“Well call one of them, then,” Sarah insisted, placing a hand on her hip. The officer nodded, and turned away while he rang one of them, leaving the other officer standing with her. “You don’t say much, do you?” Brent watched the young cop stiffen.

“No ma’am,” he replied.

“I know another cop like that. He’s not the happiest person. Just some food for thought.” She turned and leaned against Brent’s car.

“I’m just the shy type.” The officer smirked.

“Mmm.” Sarah nodded. Officer Mustache returned and jerked his head toward her.

“Northwood said you’re good to go, and she asked that you don’t make her regret it. Her words, not mine.”

“Awesome,” she chirped, pushing off the car. “Let’s go.”

Brent closed the door after she tucked into the seat and rounded the hood, sliding back behind the wheel and hooking his seatbelt. They rode in silence for a while. He dared a glance at her.

“Brent, I wasn’t kidding. I’ll pluck your eyes out,” she warned, staring ahead.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, watching the road. “I’ve just never seen you in fake lashes before. I thought you’d lay in traffic before you ever did something like that.”

It at least got a small smile out of her. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Plenty of times.” He smiled. Another silence. “It wasn’t all a charade, Sarah. I just wanted one chance to tell you that. I don’t deserve anything from you, but at least know that … I had a blast with you. You’re an amazing woman.”

She remained quiet and turned her face to the window. A couple of minutes later, had he not been intently listening … he might have missed it. “Thank you,” came out in a breath of a whisper. Something in his chest felt a little lighter.

“For what it’s worth … I’d be all too happy to help you take him down.”

“No,” she answered quickly. “I don’t want you involved. And Brent, it isn’t because I don’t trust you. You betrayed me … yes. But—I’m doing this on my own. For personal reasons.”

“I can respect that.”

“Thank you.”

They pulled up to the Grand Ballroom at one of the nicest hotels in Boston where the benefit would be taking place. He rounded the circle and the valet stepped up to his window. “Time to catch some wind on those lashes, St. James.” Brent smirked, getting out and handing his keys to the attendant. Cameras started flashing everywhere, especially when he opened her door and helped her out of the car. Questions from ravenous reporters started rolling in from behind the roped off walkway and they both ignored them as Sarah hooked her arm into his and they started down the carpet and into the hotel.

Athan was already dreadfully uncomfortable in this getup. The tie was too much. The tux that Wren had snagged for him was a good fit, and if he gave even half a shit about such things, he might actually enjoy how he looked. The stiff collar itched and felt like a noose around his neck. He loosened the tie a little and unfastened the first two buttons. He looked over his handiwork in the mirror, deciding he liked it better that way, and it didn’t look as ridiculous as he thought. His phone dinged.

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