Page 50 of Devious Corruption
He may have had his tongue on me, giving me the world’s most intense orgasm, but he’s not packing my panties and bras. Or any of the other items I have in that drawer.
“What else do you need to bring?”
“Since I don’t know where I’m going or how long I’ll be there, I can’t answer that.” I put my hands on my hips and blow out a breath. “I guess I could see if Vee wouldn’t mind letting me use her apartment.”
“No.” He shakes his head.
“You’re right, it’s the same building, just next door. Maybe I can stay with her. Ivan might not like it, but?—”
“No.”
“You can’t keep saying no.”
“You’re staying with me.”
“No.” I shake my head immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” He lowers his chin.
“There has to be another choice.”
“There isn’t.”
“You don’t know that. I could have other friends to stay with.”
“And put them in danger?”
That gives me pause. First, I don’t have any otherfriends who I’m close enough with that I could beg for a spot on their couch for a few days. Second, even if I did, I don’t want to bring whatever danger this is to their doorstep.
“How long?”
“Until I know it’s safe for you to return home.”
I sink my hands into my hair and sit on the edge of my bed. “Are the boys safe? Have you found out where my brothers are?”
“They’ve left town. I’m still working on finding out where they went and why, but they’re not here.” The bed dips, and he sits next to me, putting his hand on my knee. “Staying with me is the safest place for you.”
I close my eyes. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been told to pack up and leave. More than five times since my mother died, I was moved through the foster care system. Sometimes I was given a day’s notice, but usually it was only a matter of hours.
I’m twenty-four-years old. I live on my own, I have a job. I pay my rent on time, and the rest of my bills. This shouldn’t still be happening.
“Max?” His voice softens. It only makes it worse, his pity.
“I’m fine.” I shove his hand off my knee and bound up to my feet. “I’ll finish packing and change. What about Marion? I won’t leave her behind.”
He stares at me for a moment, studying me as though if he looks hard enough he’ll be able to read some magical instruction manual on how to deal with me.
“She’s coming with. Do you have a carrier for her?”
“Yeah. In the front closet. She hates it, though.”
“I’ll get her in.” He stands up, scooping her off the bed as he does. She mewls at the annoyance of being manhandled. “Shush.”
I’m left alone to finish putting my life into duffle bags while the mafia man tucks my man-hating cat into her carrier.
“Ready?” Lev stands in the doorway five minutes later.
“Yeah.” I zip up the bag. All of my drawers have been emptied. “I only needed one of the duffels.”
