Page 27 of Klutch's Kryptonite

“Don’t mention it.” I stand up, holding out my hand to help her out of the booth. To my surprise, she takes it, her small hand fitting perfectly in mine. I don’t let go as I lead her back outside to my bike.

The ride to her place is even better than the one to the diner. She’s more relaxed now, her body molded against mine, her thighs pressing into the backs of mine. I take a longer route than necessary, enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, her chest pressed against my back.

My mind races with images of all the things I want to do to her. Bend her over my bike, her dress hiked up around her waist; push her up against a wall, her legs wrapped around me; spread her out on my bed, taking my time to taste every inch of her. My cock throbs painfully in my jeans at the thought.

When we finally reach her building, I park and kill the engine. The neighborhood is even worse than I imagined. No way in hell is this a safe place for her.

“Thanks for the ride,” she says, sliding off my bike and handing me back my helmet. “And for dinner.”

“I’m walking you to your door,” I insist.

She sighs but thankfully doesn’t argue as she leads the way up to the fourth floor. The first thing I notice is the shittylighting in the hallway, something that’s not safe. Anyone could be waiting to jump her and she’d never see them coming. My fists clench. That’s going to change very fucking soon. I make a mental note to have Yukon come by this week and wire this place up. Overkill? Yeah, probably, but I justify it in my head by the fact that she works for us and we take care of our own.

When we reach 4C, I freeze. The door is hanging off its hinges and there’s a boot print in the middle.

“What the—“ Demi gasps, but I quickly pull her behind me.

“Stay here,” I order, pulling my Glock from the holster at my lower back.

I move into the apartment cautiously, pushing the damaged door open with my foot. The place is trashed—furniture overturned, drawers emptied onto the floor, glass shattered across the linoleum. Someone has torn through her place looking for something.

“Dad?” Demi calls out, suddenly appearing beside me.

“Goddammit, I told you to stay in the hall,” I growl, scanning the apartment for threats.

She ignores me, moving further into the wreckage. “Dad!” she calls again, her voice high with panic.

Clearing each room quickly. No one’s here, but someone definitely wanted to send a message.

“He’s not here,” she says, her face pale as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. After a moment, she makes a frustrated sound. “Voicemail again.”

“Who would do this?” I ask, holstering my weapon.

She shakes her head, looking lost amid the destruction. “I don’t know. Maybe...” Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away.

I narrow my eyes. “Maybe what, Blue? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Nothing,” she says too quickly. “Sometimes drug addicts break in looking for stuff to steal.”

I scan the apartment again. This wasn’t a random break-in. Someone was looking for something—or someone.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied to me, Blue. It’s going to be the fucking last, you hear me?” She looks away, but I can tell by her body language I’ve hit a nerve. Good. She’s hit one too and it’s pissing me off. I shouldn’t give a fuck about this girl. Should leave her here to figure out her own shit, but I can’t.

“Pack a bag,” I snap. “You’re not staying here.”

Her head shoots up. “What? No, I can’t leave?—”

I crowd her space. “This isn’t up for discussion, Demi. This place isn’t safe.”

“But my dad?—”

I growl in frustration. Why does she have to fight me at every fucking turn? Doesn’t she realize this place isn’t safe. “Will have to find another place to crash tonight too,” I cut her off. “Unless you want to stick around and meet whoever did this when they come back.”

That gets through to her. Thank fuck.

She bites her lip, then nods reluctantly. “Fine. Give me five minutes.”

As she disappears into her bedroom, I pull out my phone and text Titan.

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