“I’m so sorry,” I apologized quickly and reached for my phone. “I opened your message but then didn’t get to read it. Ivy started puking her guts out.”
“Drunken night?” he mused. I nodded my head, smiling. “Forget your phone. I’m here now, so I can deliver the message personally.”
“So damn bossy,” I retorted, feigning irritation. I was used to people bossing me around. Trainers, tutors, coaches. As long as their advice was sound, I always listened. I had a feeling Bas always gave sound advice.
I reached for the radio to hide my smile, though I suspected nothing would escape this man. The song that came on couldn’t be more appropriate, “Eastside” with Halsey & Khalid. How convenient since I ran into him at The Eastside and we wererunningaway together from Quinn and Uncle. Poetically speaking.
The silence stretched, the words playing over his speakers at a low volume. Goosebumps rose on my skin and kindled flame drifted through me. My stomach made somersaults.
Get a grip, Wynter.
I must be losing my damn head. Or heart? I mean, it didn’t happen that fast. I’ve only seen him twice before. I barely knew him.
“The surveillance is wiped out.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?” I gasped. Suddenly the week was looking up.
“Yes,” he confirmed.
“What about neighbors and their cameras?”
“Everything is wiped out,” he assured me. “Garrett’s surveillance. Neighbor’s. Even the city’s. There is no sign that you ever ventured that way.”
I grinned widely, beaming at him. He might be a notorious criminal, but he was my hero right now. “Thank you so much, Bas.”
“No problem,” he drawled. “After all, you’re paying for it.”
He came to a stop at the red light, in the heart of Manhattan. The city lights flickered. The wail of an ambulance echoed in the distance. The bus came to a screeching halt next to us. But all of it was just background noise to me. Distant and faint.
All my senses honed in on this man next to me.
“Not much of a hardship,” I breathed.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Our gazes collided, his burning me. In the best way possible.
His eyes traveled down my body, slowly like he was memorizing every inch of it. His eyes lingered on my bare feet before he took my hand into his and it felt like he branded me as his. The heat of his touch leaked into my bloodstream while his thumb brushed my knuckles.
Just like he had when I asked him to erase the surveillance.
“Let’s go get you some shoes,” he said. My eyes fell to where he held my hand. His big one against my small one. His grip was firm, possessive. As if he considered mehisalready. And I didn’t mind. I knew he killed men with that same hand, and yet fear within me was absent.
His stare traveled back up my body, and I felt every inch of my skin buzz under the scrutiny of it. My pulse fluttered, my chest heaved.
“Bas?” I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?”
“Why did you just ask for a dinner date?” He could have asked for a lot more and I would have done it.
“Because Wynter Star,” his deep voice rasped. “... you’llgiveme everything else. Of your own free will.”
CHAPTER7
Basilio
The light turned green and I drove down the road until we came to a stop in front of Corso Vittorio, a high-end shoe store that was owned by one of the wives of the men that worked for me.
Wynter remained quiet after my declaration. Speechless more like it. I really dropped it on her.