"Exploring," I replied. "This time I wasn't let out."
I wasn't sure why I added that, but the look on his face turned into pure amusement as he raised his eyebrows. "Really? Will I get in trouble if I help you hide up here?"
"No. No one will know, because this is the last time you'll see me." The words came out so easy, and they tasted poisonous on my tongue. I didn't want them to be true, and I wasn't sure whether they were or not. Not yet.
James looked me up and down, biting his lip. "What if I want to see you again?"
"Then you'll have to move," I told him with as much ease as a warm knife through butter. I strode past him, into the lounge he was hiding with his broad body, and I looked around it. Red velvet was definitely as prominent as I thought it would be from downstairs, and I spotted Damian watching us from one of the corner couches, the bottle he took from the bar on the table in front of him.
My body was tense as I looked back at James. "I'm not staying in Datoches," I blurted, feeling like I needed to vent about everything to someone impartial. Someone who didn't know the whole story of what happened to mom, or how crazy dad turned after.
"Why?" The question was heavy on his tongue, the brightness in his eyes dimmed down to something less prominent.
"I want to be safe," I said, and it was the truth, "this city isn't."
"I can keep you safe." He took a step closer, his knuckles brushing against my cheek.
"I can keep myself safe, thank you," I replied, staring up at him.
His smile was back at that, and he nodded, not even bothering to tell me I was just a tiny girl, and he'd be better at it than me. Something started growing in my chest as I realized he believed I could protect myself. Pride, maybe? I cleared my throat and looked away, uncomfortable with the pleasant silence between us.
"I know what kind of world this is," I said, my eyes meeting his again as I felt the need to vent some more. "My dad taught my sister and I to use guns when we were young. I know how to fight, thanks to dad's best friend. I'm not as defenseless as I probably look, but I still don't know if being this close to the mafia is what's right for me."
"You said you've been locked up." James scanned my face, his Adam's apple bobbing once. "You've been sheltered?" My nod made him look away, his jaw clenching. "And your sister?"
"She slithered her way out. I think you know her," I said, watching his face, "Nina George."
Realization dawned on his face, but he didn't look like he took pity in me. He looked like he was entertained. Like I'd just told him some juicy secret he'd wanted to know for god knew how long. "You're Kevin's daughter."
Surprise washed over me. I knew the family was tight-knit, and that everyone knew everyone, so to speak, but I didn't expect him to be on first name basis with my dad. "You know my dad?"
"Not well," he admitted, his hand landing on my shoulder as he led me through the lounge, towards where Damian sat with his huge bottle of liquor. "But I'm the next boss' best friend. I should know the people who work for me."
Well, he had a point.
I let him guide me towards the table where his friend sat, and even though I wanted little to do with Damian, I sat down on the soft couch, opposite of him. He kept glaring at me, while James walked over to a cabinet and took out three glasses.
I was about to ask what Damian was looking at, when he opened his mouth. "Nina never mentioned she had a sister."
"You don't even listen to her," James said with a chuckle as he sat the glasses down on the table and sat down next to me. His arm went up to rest on the back of the couch, behind me, and I could feel the warmth seeping off of him as I leaned back. "No offense, but she's a little...clingy."
"None taken," I muttered, suddenly very aware of my situation.
I was trapped inside a booth with two dangerous men guarding both exits. Two men my dad would've wanted me to stay the hell away from. And one of them made strange things happen inside my body.
"Do you want to leave Datoches, and everything your dad works for?" The question caught me off guard and brought my attention back to James. He looked at me, without smiling this time, assessing my reaction, I suspected.
I shrugged a little, figuring honesty was my best bet anyway. "I don't know."
"I like your father a bit less knowing he's kept you like a prisoner." James' voice was darker, making my abdomen curl in response. "I understand wanting to keep you safe, but what the fuck?"
I only laughed, wanting to keep my own opinions out of it—mostly because I didn't know how I felt about it. I was grateful, but full of spite. And I hated it, but I loved that I had a father who cared that much. It was a slippery slope.
Damian grunted his agreement, I assumed, as he reached for the bottle on the table and poured the liquid into the three glasses. James leaned forward and pulled two of them towards us, but neither of them said anything as they both drank.
The glass meant for me was an offer. If it meant more than just a drink, I didn't know, but the fact that they didn't seem to care whether or not I accepted the drink was freeing. No compulsion. No threats. My dad's voice filled my head again with his stories of men in his line of work treated women and how women were being used. These didn't strike me as the same men he taught me to keep away from, and it intrigued me.
So much so, that I leaned forward and picked up the glass, and tasted the strong, burning whiskey.
Before I knew it, I was dancing to the music from downstairs with James moving with me. Damian left us after my second glass of whiskey, saying he needed to attend to some business. I was glad the grump was gone, because James' smile was brighter than ever as he held my hips and guided me through the thumping bass and vulgar lyrics. I had the time of my life up in that VIP lounge, and I never wanted it to end.
But like all good things, it had to.
I was giggling and slurring by the time James said, "I'm gonna get you home."
My drunk mind thought he meant he wanted to take me home, as in...to his home. With me. And, I looked at him, I looked at his brown curls and his dazzling smile, and said, "Yes." Because who in their right mind would say no to going home with this dream?
He helped me down the stairs, holding my hand so tightly I was pretty sure I was going to fall if he let go—that's how much I leaned on him. I didn't even pay attention to anyone but him as he walked around the outside of the packed dance floor, towards the exit, and straight to a black car by the curb. He didn't even look at who was inside, he just opened the door and helped me into the backseat, before he settled himself next to me.
"Kevin George's house," James said, and my mouth opened.
"You don't live there, you goof." I laughed it off, swatting his shoulder as I settled into the deep, soft seat. It was warm, too, like getting a hug. A big bear hug.
"No, you live there." His voice made me look up to the side, into his brown eyes. He was watching me. His tongue appeared between his lips, and quickly disappeared again as if he changed his mind.
I smiled. He was a little shy, this one. Or maybe I was imagining things. Either way, I turned to my side and sat up on my knees in the seat, facing him. "He's so handsome," I whispered to myself, and as his eyebrows shot up, I knew he heard it too.
My cheeks warmed up, but I didn't let it bring me down. He was handsome. And he deserved to know. Because I would want to know if he thought I was handsome. Or maybe handsome isn't the right word.. It sounded weird.
To mute my own thoughts, I leaned forward, my eyes on his soft-looking lips. But I was stopped. James' finger pushed against my mouth, and he grinned wickedly at me. Embarrassment coated my entire being, inside and out, and I sank down a bit.
He took his hand away and leaned closer, kissing my right cheek with his definitely soft lips. "I want you to remember our first kiss," he whispered. Then he kissed my left cheek. "And I want you to remember our first time."
He kissed my forehead then, and I asked, "Our first time?"
"The first time you sit on top of me, and feel me inside you," he explained, and I had the sudden need to clear my throat. "And the first time I bite your lip, and hear you moan my name."
He had a point. That sounded way too wonderful to ever forget. Even if I wanted it right then and there, in the car, illuminated only by the passing streetlights. But...I was drunk—that realization hit me when I thought about shamelessly straddling him with a stranger driving us towards my father's house. If I did that, and didn't remember it, would I forgive myself? Especially if said first time would be the only time.
I shuddered and sat back in my seat, my feet on the floor. A man as beautiful and sensual as James would be too good for a one night stand. And the fact that he refused a willing, intoxicated girl said so much. I felt the pressure of tears sober me up as I thought of how much shit dad had said to me about everyone involved with the mafia in this damn city.
He couldn't have been more wrong. And I would prove it. I wasn't going to Durfair. Not now, not in six months, not ever. I was staying right here, and I was going to live my own damn life the way I wanted to.
Starting with putting my foot down and releasing myself from this damned tower I'd been locked up in.
My foot went down hard on the floor at the same time as my thought, and I crossed my arms and let out an annoyed grunt.
"If I knew you wanted me that much, I could've given you something." James' voice startled me, a gasp leaving my throat as I turned around and looked at him. His smile made my heart thump an extra time, and I had no idea what I was going to say. Thankfully, the car stopped and James took my hand as he said, "You go around the corner, you've got a back door, right?" When I nodded, he went on. "Wait until you hear me talking to your dad, then sneak around and go in."
I nodded again. That sounded simple enough. At least I wouldn't face the vines. If I wasn't drunk I could probably make it back up there, but I had enough common sense not to try.
He pulled me out of the car and helped me hide beside a thuja around the corner, and then he kissed my cheek again with a wild smile promising even more mischief than this. I wanted to pull him to me and kiss him senseless, but he left me before I could. Smart move.
The bell rang through the house, and I closed my eyes and listened. When nothing happened, I peeked around the corner and saw James standing by the door with his arms crossed, and his brows furrowed. His mischievous grin was gone, leaving what dad always warned me about—a man who could bring danger to my doorstep.
Then there were sounds coming from inside, the lock turned, and the door opened. I hid again as I saw my dad's gray head peek out. "Davis," dad said, greeting James with what I assumed was his last name, "what's going on? It's late."
"Damian wanted me to let your daughter know she should keep her nose out of his business," James said casually, like he was bored. He even took his phone out, and showed dad his screen.
Cold went through my body, but then dad said, "I've told Nina to stay away from you two already."
Deciding not to linger, I carefully started to move away from them and towards the back door. I could hear them discussing how Nina could be banned from The Gold Rose for a month if she didn't listen. Their voices faded into nothing as I rounded the back of the house, and I opened the door carefully. No one was by the kitchen, or the dining room, so I carefully slipped inside, reminding myself to thank James for his help later—
"Elina."