Page 14 of Run, Little Rabbit

“Can you break into it?”

He hits me with the flattest look of flat looks over his shoulder. “Sorry, could you repeat that? It sounded like you said something stupid.”

I flick his ear and delight in his little yelp. “Fuck you, asshole.”

“It’s going to take a minute. I’ll text you when I’ve got through, and you can bring me some of my favourite Chinese as a thank you.”

“Whatever,” I say with an eye roll, but he’s already lost to the code.

I leave the house and find Veon standing by the car, looking the complete opposite of inconspicuous. The guy stands out like a sore thumb. His red hair catches in the sun, and he’s leaning against the hood of the car, wearing a pair of dark aviators and a black tee that is putting up a hell of a fight to contain his massive chest and arms. He lookshot.

“How the fuck did you ever go unnoticed on super-secret missions?” I ask, fighting the urge to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist.

He grins but doesn’t reply, just slides off the hood of the car and opens my door for me.

I get in and tell Veon to take me home. There’s nothing for me to do now but wait, and I have a feeling I might be waiting on Sphinx for a while.

My phone pings, and I read the text from Verity.

Verity:

Hey babe, want to visit the new club opening tonight? I got VIP tickets!!

A sigh falls from my lips, and I tap the back of my phone.

“What is it?” Veon asks, his voice soft and low. God, it’s like a caress against my damn eardrums. He should read audiobooks because his gravelly low rasp would have panties fucking dripping.

“Verity wants to go to the new club.”

“Another new club?” Veon peers over the top of his sunglasses at me. “Aren’t there enough?”

“Yeah, but this one is being run by the Volkovs and—”

“Nope. Absolutely not,” Veon cuts in.

“Excuse me?”

“There is no way that you’re going to a club run by the enemy.”

I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms across my chest. “Last time I checked, I was in charge, and you do what I say. If I want to go, I’ll fucking go.”

“You’re such a brat, Echo,” he grumbles. “And I work for your father, not you, and youknowhe wouldn’t approve.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Not the point.”

But it kind of is the point. I can handle myself, and I know that if I don’t go and all my ‘friends’ are having a night out without me, it’ll be all over social media before I can even blink.

“You know what will happen if the people see Verity and the girls without me, and besides, none of the Volkovs know I exist.” The world knows me as Echo Nolan, which was my mother’s maiden name. My father spent a long time keeping me away from the family business, so there are only a very few select people who know who I really am. That trust went as far as my dad’s inner circle and no further.

“You know I’m right, Veon.”

The guy grumbles something under his breath – probably a colourful collection of curse words – and starts the car.

Me:

Hey bitch, count me in!

---