Page 72 of Riordan's Revenge

Shade nodded. “Each sentence was a test to see what he’d react to. It pissed him off that I killed his dealer, but he didn’t give a fuck about Red’s brothel. Then I implied to him that someone else has taken some big win to Red in order to get Bronson’s job. If he’s the killer, that’s going to eat at his pride. I took one finger for one fallen crew member. He’ll believe he can get away with losing another for Alisha. It’s an incentive to live and get revenge.”

“If he isn’t the murderer, he’ll spill whatever information he has on them as a bargaining chip,” I mused. Then I checked myself. “Sorry about Convict.”

Shade’s eyes flashed with stark pain. “I can’t think about that now.”

He got us on the road.

From my bag, I took a pack of baby wipes so Riordan could clean off the eye black.

Back at the warehouse, Shade left us with a murmur about seeing Arran. I wanted to ask to be included in round two, but the guy was on a mission.

Riordan tugged me against him. “Come hang out in the brothel to do your work? That way I can keep an eye on you.”

I loved that he needed me near. With a shy nod, I let him lead me upstairs. Outside the entrance, he glanced inside but stopped me.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about. The last time we were here, Moniqua approached me.”

Ugh. I folded my arms.

“Nothing happened between us. I went to your room to tell you that.”

“Definitely looked like she was on her knees with her lips in an ‘O’ shape.”

“That was purposeful. The second you left, I stopped her.”

I should’ve been relieved, but the opposite was true. He’d allowed her to do it, or even ordered it, to put me off. Damn.

A lick of pain curled inside me, a strange sensation that sank my mood. For days, I’d been focused on keeping Riordan. Indulging in the feelings I had for him. Enjoying kissing and all that went with it, too. But did he actually like me in reverse?

I took a step back. Confusion mixed with a rush of trying to remember him ever saying so. He enjoyed sex with me. Was that it?

“No biggie,” I lied. “I need to get to work.”

“Wait.”

Hell, no. Particularly as I was shite at hiding emotion. Turning, I stormed into the brothel. In the centre of the floor, a client twisted his fingers into the bra strap of one of the sex workers like he was weighing her tits. Daria purred at him, her expression flickering at whatever she saw in my face. I skipped along quicker until I was behind the bar and in the office.

Riordan pursued me the whole way, storming after my flight. He braced himself against the office door so I couldn’t close it on him. Then he burst past, shut us in, and collected my hands in his.

“Stop and listen. I’m sorry for what I did.”

I scowled. Tried to loosen his grip. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Bullshit, it does. I hated it then, and it’s killing me now.”

This gave me pause. I stopped struggling. “Why?”

“I don’t know how you’ve got under my skin so fast, but it was already in play then and I was trying to deny it. I pushed you away. I regret it and beg for forgiveness.”

Damn. “If you’re begging, shouldn’t ye be on your knees?”

Riordan held my gaze then slowly, with heat replacing his worry, he knelt. He traced a finger up my leg to the hem of my shorts. “I’m sorry for hurting you. It was wrong.”

I draped against the wall. “Tell me what ye think about me.”

He kissed my knee. “I’m finding myself oddly crazy about you. Satisfactory enough?”

“Keep moving north and it will be.”