Page 51 of Becoming His Pet

“And?” She waved her hand. Patience wasn’t something she held in large quantities.

“You can call him.” He pulled out his phone and placed it on the counter beside her.

“Can you give me a second?” she said, staring down at his cell. If she could get a second alone, she could look through his call list. Find out who he’d been talking with.

His gaze narrowed again as he inspected her. Did he ever just look at someone without trying to see through them? Or was it just her?

“I’d like to speak to him, too.” He covered the phone with his hand.

“Why?” she blurted.

“So he and I are on the same page about what happens next. That’s all. Is that a problem?” He leaned further into her space, taking away the air she was breathing.

“Okay, yeah, sure.” She nodded. He wouldn’t let her call if she disagreed, and she needed to let Bernie know what the hell was going on. If he’d seen the murder on the news and that she was a person of interest, he’d believe it. She needed to tell him the truth, let him know what she saw so he could tell her how to best protect herself.

And Greg.

He didn’t need to be dragged any further into everything.

Greg pressed a quick, warm kiss to her lips then scooped the phone off the counter and held it out to her. “I’m just going to be in the other room. Don’t hang up with him until I talk to him, or there will be consequences, trouble. Bad ones.”

She clenched her teeth to avoid saying something that would revoke her ability to make her call and nodded.

“Okay, make your call.” He gave her another kiss and handed her the phone. She held it with both hands, pressed to her chest until he turned the corner and disappeared down the hall. She didn’t dial until she heard a door open then close.

Letting out a long breath, she closed her eyes to let her heart slow the fuck down. It wasn’t rational to react to his touch so easily, especially after the way he’d been treating her.

Shouldn’t she hate him? Loathe him even?

Shouldn’t she be terrified of him?

There’d be time to think about those things later. Right now, she needed to get through this phone call.

“Hello.” Bernie’s cigarette-ridden voice blasted through the phone and she smiled.

“Bernie. It’s me. Elenora.” She sank into the kitchen chair and rested her head on her hand.

“Elenora? Where the fuck are you? What did you do?” He hurled his questions in a fury of anxiety.

“I didn’t do anything, Bernie. I swear it. I didn’t do anything.”

The familiar click of a lighter, then the tell-tale sound of an inhale.

“Okay. Tell me what happened. How the fuck did Antonio end up dead and you being the main fucking suspect.” He could use the harsh tone all he wanted, she could hear the concern laced in there, too.

Nora went through the details of what happened that afternoon.

“I swear, Bernie, I had nothing to do with it. It makes no sense to me that the brothers would just come in and shoot him.” Not that she had any intel on the business of one of the largest crime families in Chicago, but it didn’t seem right to her.

Another inhale of smoke. “Maybe he was shorting them, or the boss didn’t want him around for the hearings coming up.”

“Whatever their reasons, I don’t care. Just tell me what to do next.” It went against her natural inclination to make a decision and run with it, but she knew Bernie knew the crime world a hell of a lot better than her. Her father kept her in the dark about everything. Women weren’t supposed to be involved. They were protected. Kept safe.

Even if they could be of use.

“Their reasons will determine what you do next,” he snapped. “Did you ever tell him who you were?”

“No. He didn’t suspect anything.” Why would he? Nora was just a girl, and girls weren’t supposed to get involved.

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