Page 50 of The Broker

“Me too.” And I truly meant it.

Her gaze dropped to the iPad she held, and then shifted to our clasped hands. It made my heartbeat fall out of rhythm.

“What did he mean about running away?”

The question came from me before I could think better of it, and her expression shuttered. Her shields came up at the same time she tried to drop my hand, but I wouldn’t let go.

Her tone was brusque. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.” My head bobbed in a short, understanding nod. I didn’t know why I’d asked, anyway. It wasn’t any of my business. When I released her hand and took a step back, she gave me a sharp, evaluating look.

Whatever she was thinking about, it made me nervous.

“I’ll tell you,” she said reluctantly, “if you’d be willing to do me another favor.”

Even without knowing the specifics, excitement shot through me. She wanted to make a deal—and I lived for making good deals. “What is it?”

She pushed off the car to stand tall. “I want you to take me to the club.”

I already knew the answer, but I asked it anyway. “Which club?”

“The one where you met Patrick and Shannon.”

She was worried I was going to say no, and I had to bite back a smile. Because I was sure this would be the easiestyesI’d ever give. But I took my time anyway, drawing it out like I was weighing the pros and cons.

“All right,” I answered. “On one condition.”

She drew in an anxious breath. “What is it?”

“You give me your keys, and I get to drive us back to my place.”

She blinked back her surprise, then dug a hand into her pocket and produced the keys. She held them up, jingling them, but when I reached out, she pulled back. “Promise me, Noah.”

Like she worried I’d renege on our deal.

Fuck. Was she thinking I was like the man upstairs in the apartment we’d just left? He’d done a number on her, for sure.

I softened my voice. “I promise.”

It must have been convincing enough, because she handed over the keys.

After I banged my knees against the steering wheel while climbing into the driver’s seat, I slid the seat back, repositioned the mirrors, and started the engine. She got into the passenger seat and rested the iPad on her lap, keeping her gaze fixed forward.

I sensed the tension in her and stayed quiet, focusing on the drive. When she was ready, she’d talk, and if she didn’t... that was okay too. I’d take her to Club Eros regardless of how much she wanted to reveal to me.

Eventually, Charlotte straightened in her seat and pulled in a deep, preparing breath.

“I’m a spoiled brat,” she announced.

Um, what?I shot her a questioning glance. Her focus remained on the windshield, her expression not giving anything away.

“That’s what I’ve been told my whole life,” she continued, “but I didn’t believe it until Zach.” Her voice was quiet and sad. “The first time he said it, I’d thought he was teasing me. He would call me a spoiled brat like it was some cute little joke he was letting me in on. Like, we were sharing it together.”

My hand tightened on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know why I ate it up.” Her fingers curled around the edge of the iPad, lifting and closing the case lid repeatedly. “But I did. I fell in love with him, and I fellhard, and I just stopped caring about anything else.” The steady thumps of the case lid closing could barely be heard over the music playing through her car’s speakers. “My parents had given me a million chances already, so when I failed out of Davidson, I panicked. I knew that was it.”

She finally turned in her seat to look at me, and even though I kept my attention on the road, I felt her gaze locked on me.

---