Page 36 of Deep (Chicago Underground 8)
“Is that why you came to my dorm room? Because you knew I’d have no choice?” Betrayal tied a knot in my throat. “What kind of man does that make you?”
“A man of opportunity. I didn’t get where I am today by letting them fall through my fingers.”
“You could have asked.” I made my voice low, an angry, unkind version of him. “Ella, would you like to go out with me like a normal couple?”
“We will never be a normal couple.”
At least he was honest about that. Being forced to have sex with him to save my brother. No, that wasn’t normal. “How long?” I demanded because I’d seen what being used had done to Shelly. I’d seen how hard it had been for her to leave. “How long would I be yours?”
“I told you in the car. There is no expiration date. This won’t ever be over.”
I flinched. “You’re wrong.”
“Make no mistake, the thing with your brother just moved up my timetable. I was always coming for you, kitten. You were always mine.”
My heart thudded in something like recognition. Like agreement.
There was a sound at the door. Adrian had puffs of white flour on his shiny dress shirt and a smile on his face. “Dinner’s ready.” He took one look at our expressions and sighed. “I’ll keep it warm.”
*
I WANTED TO search for my brother immediately, but I needed Philip’s help. I needed transportation out of here, for one thing. I also needed contacts to the criminal underworld.
But before any of that, I needed food. I hadn’t eaten since last night—my stomach growled at the sight of lasagna on the rustic kitchen table. It seemed we would eat in here tonight, instead of the dining room where Adrian would not have been invited. Even in this casual setting, there were wide-bottomed wineglasses and linen napkins embroidered with sun-touched hillsides.
Apparently we were all hungry, because the thick ceramic platter emptied of lasagna quickly. The only sounds were gentle tings of forks against plates or the pours as Adrian refilled my glass with dark red liquid.
The atmosphere was more somber than comfortable, with Philip mostly silent and brooding.
When Adrian spoke, he didn’t bother interrupting Philip’s reverie—making me think it was a normal occurrence. Instead he focused on me. Even though I knew he intended light conversation, I couldn’t keep what I’d learned a secret so soon after the phone call.
“Jesus,” Adrian said after I told him, setting his fork down. “You don’t know where they’ve taken him?”
I glanced at Philip, but he didn’t look at either of us, focused on some invisible point. “No,” I said. “They’re waiting for contact, but even when that happens, they don’t have the money to get him back.”
Adrian’s gaze flicked to Philip, and I knew he was wondering the same thing. Would Philip pay it? And just how much would it cost me? Everything, Philip had said—was that too high a price to pay for my brother’s life? The answer came swiftly and painfully: no. I would pay anything, everything.
I guessed Philip already knew that.
Numbness would be great right about now. I took another gulp of the sweet, sharp wine.
“That’s some luck,” Adrian said. “An incident with the cops this morning and your brother taken at gunpoint last night.”
Yes, it was some luck. But no accident. I met Philip’s enigmatic gaze, challenging him to admit the truth now. “Who did you say hurt you last night?”
His gaze met mine, and I saw that he had been listening all along. He gave me a slight smile, not entirely kind. “I didn’t.”
“Of course not.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Worried about me, kitten?”
“Surprised, that’s all. A normal night for me would be study group or a Netflix marathon. Not a bleeding man on my doorstep.”
Adrian chose that moment to reach for the wine bottle—he was silent, very discreet. Philip covered the rim of my glass with his hand to block him. My lips had touched that rim repeatedly, and Philip’s fingers resting on the thin glass looked somehow intimate, almost obscene.
“Enough,” he said softly, his gaze on me.
Adrian set the bottle down on the table and got up. Without a word he left the room.
