One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

Star looks up at the window, and her face is serious. She gives us a discreet thumbs-up, then turns on her heel, heading out of the alley.

Back at the Four Seasons bar, nobody speaks as we wait for our drinks. Star passes the envelope containing Sloan’s money to Patrick, and he puts it in his jacket pocket like a pimp.

My scotch is the first to arrive, and I consider shooting it. Instead, I pick it up and walk to the square table in the back corner where we can talk privately. The other two join me once they’ve gotten their drinks.

We’re quiet until Patrick finally breaks the awkwardness. “Well, that went about as we expected.”

I don’t know how the fuck he does it, but with those few words, we’re all breathing again.

“He’s smooth.” Star sounds like she’s conducting an autopsy. “And attractive. I can see why the girls go for him.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” I can’t believe she just said that.

Her eyes cut to mine. “He’s also rich and confident, and he knows his way around a clit.” She lifts the glass and takes a sip. “I wasn’t faking.”

“Well, that’s helpful for you, I guess.” Patrick follows suit, taking a hit from his drink.

She stares into her vodka. “I see why Tiffany would follow him here.”

Her words soften me—now she’s speaking language I can understand. For a while at first, I was preoccupied trying to find a reason for this guy’s continued success with women. Then I just wanted him gone.

I mutter into my drink. “He apparently has a deceptive opening act.”

Patrick keeps us moving forward. “You’re all set for tomorrow night. Good work. What’s your feeling? Are you ready?”

She shakes her head. “Hope so. He’s definitely got a side to him. I wasn’t going anywhere without finishing the job tonight. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I’d said No.”

“Okay, so that’s our plan. Tomorrow night you push back. See if he gets rough.” This was Patrick’s idea from the start, so I let him lead.

“Is it too soon?” As she speaks, her finger circles the rim of her glass.

“Impossible to know. But I was worried about you tonight. He’s one cold-hearted prick.”

She looks up and smiles at my partner. “With you, it was fun. With him, I confess. I’m scared.”

That does it. “If you want out, say it, and it’s over. I don’t like any of this.”

She looks up, and with her sitting here fucking looking so much like Melissa, I’m about to call it regardless of how she feels. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?” Patrick’s tone is calming. “We can call it off and walk away. Figure out another option.”

“Haven’t you tried that already? Isn’t that the reason you came to me?” Her glance catches my eyes, but I look down.

It’s true, but I don’t want to say it right now. I’ve tried legal methods, and Sloan’s slipped out of the noose every time.

“That answers my question,” she continues. “I’m doing this for Tiffany. I’m not calling it off. I shouldn’t have said I was scared. I’m not.”

“You were right to say it.” My partner reaches across the table and holds her hand. “Sangria. Okay? We’ll be right there.”

She nods and looks down again. I’m pissed. “You should be in college or trade school. Why the hell are you even in this line of work?”

And just like that, Toni Durango’s back. “Fuck you, Mr. Derek Alexander. What the fuck do you know about what I should be doing?”

I shake my head. “Screw it. I’m getting another scotch. Anybody else?”

Patrick nods, but Star’s still nursing hers. “Two drinks it is, then.”

I walk up to the backlit bar. It’s elegant with dark wood counter tops and recessed lighting. The liquor bottles are arranged in groups all the way to the ceiling by color. They’re backlit as well, and it’s an impressive mosaic. While I wait for our refills, I look at the two of them sitting, leaning forward over the table.