Page 67 of Heartless Game

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said quickly, trying to nod his head and then groaning from the pain. “I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

We both stood. “Good,” I said shockingly easily, given that this was completely unfamiliar territory for me.

“You’ll find your own way home, right?” Jack added, and then without waiting for an answer, we turned and walked back into the night.

* * *

When we arrivedat Jack’s, I turned off the car.

He glanced over. “I don’t think you should come in with me. Aviva might rip your head off.”

I shrugged. “I can handle it. I’m not sleeping without Tovah in my arms, man. I don’t care how much she fights.”

A slow grin spread across Jack’s face. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”

We exited my car, and I hit the lock button on the remote key. Jack opened the door to the lobby, waving at his doorman sitting behind the desk.

“Hi Robert,” he said.

Robert stood. “He’s not allowed here,” he said, jerking his head at me. “Your fiancée made me promise.”

Jack waved it off. “I’ll take care of her.”

Robert squared his shoulders. “With all due apology, I’m more afraid of her than I am of you, Mr. Feldman.” To me, he said, “Mr. Jones, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Fuck.

Well, my father had taught me to deal with obstacles in my way, too. You either killed them or you paid them off. And Robert was a good guy, and I wasn’t a killer, so the latter it was.

“What about an all-expenses-paid vacation for you and your wife to the Maldives?” I asked.

He froze. “With business class seats?”

Fuck.This was going to be expensive.

Worth it, though.

“How about first class instead?” I offered, ignoring Jack’s smirk.

“You have a deal,” Robert said. “But if Ms. Gold asks, you snuck past me while I was in the bathroom.”

“You have my word,” I said solemnly. “Thank you, Robert.”

He tilted his hat at us, and we passed him, headed toward the elevators. Once inside, Jack pressed the button for the penthouse. I inhaled, fear and anticipation warring within me. I didn’t know what I was facing, or exactly how I was going to handle it, I just knew what I’d said to Jack: I wasn’t sleeping tonight without my little journalist in my arms.

When the elevator doors opened into the apartment, Aviva was standing there in pajamas and a robe, arms crossed over her chest.

“Nope,” she said as soon as she saw me. “You aren’t here. You’re leaving, now.”

“You have to give him a chance to apologize, little fury,” Jack cajoled her.

“An apology isn’t going to cut it,” she said flatly. “Not after what he did.”

“I know you never forgave me, but you kept me,” he pointed out. “Don’t you have to give Tovah the opportunity to make the same decision?”

“I don’t have to do shit,” she said mutinously.

“Aviva,” I said. “I fucked up. I know I fucked up. Please, please—let me make it right.”

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