Page 29 of Tossed into the Mob
All of that when he didn’t have to do squat. He was a real friend. And leaving him felt as though I’d left part of me behind. But I wiped the tears streaming down my cheeks and thought of my reunion with Dad.
Flint’s name opened doors, literally, and I was shown into my dad’s private room. We didn’t talk much because he was sleepy, so we hugged and said how much we loved one another.
“Where are you staying? Not in the house?”
I could never go back there, but I’d have to retrieve our furniture and our belongings.
A man entered the room with an earpiece in his ear. “Mr. Durand has arranged for you to stay in a secure location.”
Oh, yikes. Was it with a pack? I really didn’t want to sleep surrounded by wolves.
But I was driven to a smart apartment building and taken to the tenth floor. It had a fingerprint lock, but the bodyguard who accompanied me said it was set for my thumb. And it was. How the heck did they do that?
When I opened the door, the bland color scheme reminded me of the soulless place where Treyton I’d seen the photo. But it was furnished with our stuff. Even the desk drawer in the entryway with the bits and bobs we put here ‘cause we didn’t know what to do with them. Plus, it had a lot of things that we’d never bought, like a huge flat-screen TV, a dishwasher, massive fridge, and sound system.
My phone rang. It was an unknown number.
“Do you like it?” Flint didn’t waste time with pointless words.
“We can’t afford this.”
“It’s yours. In your and your dad’s names. Enjoy it.”
It was blood money for his man shooting me and Dad. This place I could get used to. The violence? Not so much.
ELEVEN
TREYTON
“That ceiling needs repainting.”
I spoke out loud, because like my life, the room was empty.
It’d been two weeks since Brock and I had parted at the airport, and I’d gone home to my folks and stayed in my childhood bedroom until they told me to get my butt in gear.
I’d resigned from my job and was doing locum work here when someone was on leave. And while I loved my parents, I’d rented a place of my own, about the same size as my former apartment.
I’d heard from Grandpa about Flint’s grand gesture of buying Brock and his dad a place. It was the least he could do after Riggs’s giant fuck-up. But I missed my mate so much, as if one of my limbs had been amputated. My wolf couldn’t understand why I didn’t stalk him.
You talked about doing that.
Mmmm. But I couldn’t. So I sulked and mourned and only slapped on a smile when I was working. That was the only joy in my life.
Brock and I hadn’t maintained radio silence. He’d messaged me, giving updates on his dad, the new apartment, and howhe was questioning whether he wanted to continue with his Master’s degree. I filled him in with what was happening in my life, which was zilch.
There was nothing to indicate that I’d gone from the friend zone to a potential partner, but how could I? Our time together had been fraught with danger, so now we were texting buddies, and I couldn’t expect him to send me eggplant and peach emojis.
Ranger and Grandpa texted me every day. My cousin told me to make a grand gesture, but I couldn’t see myself abseiling down Brock’s building or standing on the street, ten floors below him, with a boombox on my shoulder and serenading him.
Flint locked Tony in his basement and said he was going to kill him before they mated. But I wouldn’t recommend that. Another text from Ranger.
Gods, he had to stop.
Grandpa kept me up to date on everyone in the Durand universe. Madd was working hard, but he was more suited to the mafia lifestyle than I was.
And Hunter put Odell in a panic room underground, even though his mate was claustrophobic. That was another text from Ranger.
I didn’t ask him what he did to Matt before they mated, though I’d heard the stories.
