Page 22 of Freed By Fire
London doesn’t say anything as I pull the curtain back and step in.
When I crook a finger at her, London peels off her clothes and wraps her flushed body around mine. I press her against the wall, and my mouth descends on hers, hot and demanding. She winds her fingers through my hair and whimpers. I press one arm on either side of her, caging her between me and the wall.
A moan falls from London’s lips as I slide down and pry her legs apart.
Carlisle is waiting for me by the front door when I come out an hour later. He falls into step beside me, and we get into the car together. In the back of the car, I take long sips of coffee and scroll through my phone until we reach the docks.
A group of men waits for me by the entrance.
They lead me to the warehouse at the far end, and a few more men pause to bow their heads in my direction. Inside the warehouse, there’s a clamor of conversation and men rushing past in either direction. Carlisle steps into position behind me as I listen. Once I’m done, I leave the docks and sit in the back of the car.
My phone buzzes, and I shake my head at Olivia’s message.
Although I don’t appreciate the danger she’s putting London in by insisting on going to the club every few days to get wasted, I’m relieved she’s here. Olivia hasn’t had many female friends over the years, especially with the kind of life we lead, and I know that having London around helps.
Olivia will eventually have to go back to her life, and then what will you do? London is going to get attached, and you won’t be able to do anything about it.
Still, even a temporary friendship is better than the alternative.
I’ve already taken a lot from London, and I don’t have the heart to rip away anything else, especially when she has no one outside of Katia and Miss Deveroux.
I rap on the roof, and the car purrs to life.
I roll the window down and leave the phone in my lap.
A few blocks away from the dock, I spot a figure leaning against a wall and looking around. When we draw closer, my eyes trail over the tight jeans, barely hanging off her ass, the tube top, and the red wig. I do a double-take when we inch closer, and I catch a glimpse of her face. Before we round the corner, I call out, and the car screeches to a halt.
I stick my head out of the window and see London with her arms folded over her chest.
Her bright eyes move around uneasily as she shifts from one heel-clad foot to the other. Her eyes are heavily lined, and her lips are painted a bright red. A figure rounds the corner; a tall, broad-shouldered man with a buzzcut and a cruel gleam in his eyes. He leans in and whispers something to London, and she shakes her head.
The man advances on her and throws out his hand.
I’m out of the car and racing toward her before I know what I’m doing.
I catch his hand halfway to her face as the man begins to protest. Using my free hand, I push my jacket back, and his eyes widen when he sees the gun. He holds both hands up and stumbles away before turning to beat a hasty retreat. I wait until he’s a speck on the horizon before I turn to London, who looks like she might be sick.
“Mason. What are you doing here?”
“I’m the one who should be asking the questions.”
London swallows. “It’s not what it looks like.”
I raise an eyebrow. “It looks like you’re picking men off the street. I didn’t know you were into that.”
London winces. “That’s not fair.”
I grab her hand and drag her behind me. “We’ll discuss this in the car.”
“I think we should—”
I stop to look at her. “I don’t give a shit what you think right now. You can either willingly get in the car, or I’ll throw you in.”
London pries her hand away but complies.
In the car, she sits as far away from me as possible. The door shuts behind me, and a moment later, the car is moving again.
“I’m all ears.”
