Page 25 of Fixate
I shook away the thought as a home came into view. There was a massive gate around the area, with armed guards patrolling the entry.
The driver gave me a look in the mirror, and I smirked. “This is where you drop me. Thanks for the lift.”
I tipped him before climbing from the car. I grabbed my bags, then walked right up to the security hut.
“Stop right there. Who are you?”
“I’m Ricardo. Dante Romano sent me to check in with Pharrell.”
The guy who’d called out froze at the mention of Dante. Seemed his power reached this farm as well. Or at least his family name did.
“I… I need to verify this, sir. Just a moment.”
I watched as he picked up a phone and called what I suspected was the main house. My grin didn’t fade as he spoke, nor when he winced and nodded.
Pharrell was likely asking him a bunch of questions about my arrival. He probably didn’t believe I’d come all the way out here. At least not this soon.
But I was unsettled. His quietness drew me into this fucked up web of problems he’d found himself in. With my previous position no longer necessary, it only seemed right to come this way.
The guard hung up the phone and rushed over to me. “Mr. Lyon said to head straight up. He’ll meet you at the main entry. One of the others will drive you.”
I turned to see him pointing at a tricked-out golf cart type vehicle. It was all black in that way all of us mafia types loved. Hell, I was in a black suit, so I had no room to judge.
My bags were tossed on the back of the cart, then we were on our way down a long, curvy driveway. When we finally reached the front of the house, the man driving me rushed to help meget my things. I would have laughed if he didn’t appear utterly terrified.
Before he could drive away, the front door opened. I swore I heard him squeak, then there was the sound of an engine revving and tires squealing.
“That seems like an excessive reaction,” I said as I turned to face Pharrell for the first time in a month.
My breath caught at the sight of him. He looked different.
Very different.
Deep purple had settled in under his eyes. There was a vacant look in them, and his clothes appeared to be hanging off his frame.
“Are you sick? What’s going on?”
I moved past him, depositing my bags off to the side of the door as I questioned him. Unlike every other time we were together, his gaze didn’t drink me in. Instead, he appeared confused at my presence.
“What? I’m not sick. Why are you here, Ricardo?”
Not wanting to answer that outright, I changed the subject. “Are you hungry? Let’s see what kind of food you’ve got in this place. Where’s the kitchen? I can cook something. Unless you have a cook. Then they could —”
My ranting was cut off by the feel of his hand at my neck. He backed me against the wall by the door, making it clear he wanted my attention.
Same, motherfucker. Same.
“I asked you why you are here, Ricardo. I expect you to answer me when I speak to you.”
Despite his hold, I managed a laugh. “You expect an answer? That’s rich coming from the man who has ignored me for weeks. I’ve been trying to check in on you and you’ve ghosted me. Of course I came out here.”
CHAPTER 10
Pharrell
This motherfucker was laughingat me.
Me.
