Page 97 of For Your Eyes Only
“That’s not what I heard. I heard you gotveryinvolved.”
Taking a beat, I study Natasha in her designer black dress. Her hair is styled in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing too much eyeliner. She thinks she has something on me, something she can use at a later date. Maybe she does have leadership potential, but she’s not ready to lock horns with me.
“You know I don’t date girls our age.”
“So you weren’t living together?” Her eyebrow arches.
Exhaling a laugh, I fall back on casual indifference. “She slept over a few times—made it easier to fuck her when I wanted. But she got too attached. I had to send her packing.”
“Heartless bastard.” Grish grins into his drink, approval in his tone. “Give Trip enough vodka, and he’ll sleep with anyone.”
Pointing at him, I lift my glass. “Almost anyone.”
I finish all the vodka in my tumbler, but it doesn’t kill the pain of this conversation. Discussing her is like knives stabbing my insides.
Natasha’s eyes narrow, and she wanders back to where she left her drink. I’m wondering who the fuck she’s been talking to and what she’s after—besides leverage.
“Attachments can be dangerous.” Rainey’s voice is quiet, and she watches me like she knows something.Who is this girl?
Doesn’t matter. I’ve got to find Andre. His continued absence has me on edge.
“This is where I leave you.” I slap Grish on the shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I’m out the door with my phone in my hand, dialing Franco’s number.
“Trip?” His voice greets me from the other end of the line. “Wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Everything okay?”
“Yeah… Have you heard from Gia lately? How’s she doing?”
“Seriously? You’re asking me about Gia?”
“I’m not fucking around, Franco. Andre is missing, and I need to know she’s safe.” I need to know what my next move will be.
“Bianca talks to her pretty regularly. I can ask her if she’s heard anything.”
“Do that and tell me as soon as you know.”
“You okay? DJ is in the city this weekend. I can text him if you need backup.”
“I’m good.” My protection isn’t important. Only one thing matters to me at this point. “I want Gia to be safe.”
“I’ll call Bianca and text you back.”
“Thanks, Franco.”
Disconnecting, I tap out a quick text to Ivan the bastard.Meet me at The Vogue in twenty.I’ll handle his blackmail shit, then I’m out of here. Let them come and find me.
* * *
It’sopen mic night at The Vogue, which I despise. Thankfully, this should be quick. I can’t imagine Ivan fighting with me. He knows who I am.
I’m at a table in the VIP section with a fresh drink in my hand when he saunters up in his uniform—jeans and a flat-brimmed ball cap with his denim jacket around his arms like a cape.
He’s such a fucking low-rent gangster wannabe. The idea this douche has my friends on the ropes offends me. At least Grish and I know how to dress like professionals.
“What up, T?” He holds out his palm like he expects me to slap it.
Like I’m an animal.