When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

“I can’t stay in the car and get you into the facility.”

Right, I think. He said that. I know that. “Just please stay as low-profile as possible,” I reply. “If he doesn’t see you, he’ll be too angry to know who got me into the club or to care. At least tonight. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I can’t even think about that right now.”

“I’ll go back to the vehicle as soon as you go into his dressing room.”

“Okay,” I say. “Yes. That works.” I sink back into my seat and watch the bright New York City lights go by without actually seeing them. You’re doing the right thing, Allie, I tell myself, and do so on repeat, but my heart races, and my palms grow clammy.

The drive is not short. It’s long. It’s eternal. It’s to an area of the city I’ve never traveled to, but whatever. I don’t care. I just want this to be over. We pull up to a building and halt. Mark glances over at me. “You’re doing the right thing. He won’t see that tonight. You’re intruding on an addiction. The apology, the appreciation, comes later. You need to know that.”

He’s right. This is going to be painful. “I never thought Mark Compton would be my relationship counselor.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ms. Wright,” he says, and just when I might compare him to Tyler, he adds what Tyler did not, “and you never will.” He reaches for his door. “Stay where you are. I’ll come to get you.” He exits the car.

I don’t stay where I’m at. The last thing I need is for Dash to see me with Mark and think there is something between us. I might be angry with him, I might be hurt, but I’m not mean. Nor do I wish to hurt him the way he’s hurt me. I exit the car and huddle into my coat, and not because I’m cold, at least not the kind of cold created by the weather. The kind of cold that chills the heart until it’s brittle and broken. Mark rounds the vehicle and both he and Adrian join me at the same moment.

Mark motions us forward and our path leads to a steel door guarded by a tall, bald, bulky, angry-looking man who towers above us all. Mark greets him, shaking his hand. “The little lady is the one I told you about,” he says. “She’s going to give my money man a talking to before he fights.”

In other words, Mark bet on Dash to make this happen for me. God, I owe this man in spades. The doorman smiles at Mark, but still manages to look angry. “I heard you laid some money out on that one tonight. He’s here. He just got here about ten minutes ago.” He motions me to the door. “Last door on the right at the end of the hallway. Talk to our boy, sweetie, but don’t fuck him. Fucking a man before a fight fucks him up. We want our big gamer here happy.”

I suck in a breath at the brazen words as Adrian opens the door and motions me forward. “You got this,” he says softly. “And if you don’t, Lucifer will be inside waiting on you, and I’ll be here keeping the door company.”

His words zap just enough of the adrenaline I’m feeling to steady my knees. I’ve brought the cavalry and while that might make me feel better, somehow, I don’t think it will do the same to Dash. I nod and enter the hallway and I swear my heart is racing all over again. What am I doing? Dash sent me away. He doesn’t want me here. He made his choice and it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.

I’m almost to the end of the hallway and I halt. He made his choice.

I’m about to turn, but have second thoughts. I came here because I want to save him, I remind myself, not because he wants me to do this. I came despite the fact he does not want saving. I’ve run a lot in my life. I will not run now.

Decision made, resolve firmly I place, I march forward and step into a room lined with lockers with a few half-naked men milling about. Lord help me. One of them turns and looks me up and down. I cut right to the first door and I don’t knock. I just walk in. And to both my relief—yes, I’ve found him—and unnerving—my God, he really plans to fight, I find Dash.

CHAPTER SIX

Just seeing Dash and my emotions are a jumbled mess. I feel everything for this man when I’m with him. It’s silly, I know. It’s too much and too everything.

Maybe I should define it as too much.