Page 34 of Betrayed
“Tea?” I offer, knowing I don’t have the coffee he desires.
He shakes his head; his nose scrunched in distaste. “Gross.” And for a flash of a moment, I get a glimpse of what he looked like as a child.
Adorable.
But he’s no child. He’s a massive man and a force to be reckoned with. And he’s never going to let me go at this alone.
“New Yorkers drink coffee. Strong and black. Don’t you Brits remember we threw all your wimpy tea leaves in the ocean?”
“I think I have some instant here,” I say, digging through the cabinets without mentioning it’d be over a year old if we do.
“Ugh. Worse.” He slaps his palm on the table, making me jump. “Sit. Now. Tell me everything that’s happened since you got here.”
I breeze back to my seat, grabbing my cup.
“I think he’s here, watching me. The first night, I found boot prints outside the cabin.”
His jaw tightens so hard it makes my throat close.
I have to pause to swallow. “And. Um…yesterday?—”
Do I have to tell him? He’s already holding on to the edge of the table like he’s going to break it between his fingers. If he didn’t like the boot prints, he’s really not going to like what I have to tell him next.
“Erin.” He says my name like a threat.
I have to tell him.
“Yesterday on the platform at the train station…” I pause, watching the angry red heat creep up his neck, then quickly add, “The platform opposite me,” as if that helps.
It doesn’t. The crimson shade is now taking over his entire face.
He demands from between clenched teeth, “What. Did. You. See?”
“I thought I saw someone who may have looked like him?—”
And then Lucian explodes. I mean, really loses it. He stands from his chair, pacing the room like a caged wildebeest.
“You’re telling me that you not only came here alone, knowing you had no protection whatsoever,”—he picks up the knife that’s on the counter by its wooden handle, “except this dull kitchen knife,”—then drops it, letting it fall with a clatter. “Then you wandered the streets. Alone. With him out there?”
“Maybe out there,” I remind him. “I can’t confirm the prints were his. And I thought I saw him at the station. Or someone that looked like him.”
“Okay, babygirl. Let’s pretend that Caleb, your vicious mafia-bred asshole, is the one watching you. Then, he’s going to make a move. Soon.”
“Yes.” My throat tightens again as I swallow.
I don’t tell him about the text. Baby sister. He’s a little too close to a coronary.
That one will keep.
Lucian’s voice drops an octave. “Then we take him out before he does.”
“That was my plan,” I say. “Kind of.”
The look he gives me causes a hot flash.
“Okay, other than getting him arrested, I’m not sure I had one.”
“Your plan,” he says, “was to come out here and be the bait so he’d leave the rest of us alone. Wasn’t it?”
