Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

Cold fury runs through my body, every muscle tensing. She’s sitting, happy as a lark, with another man while I consider the awful things that might be happening to her if she’d been kidnapped.

Every bit of my being demands that I swoop into that food truck lot and grab her up, take her home, and demand an explanation. But a lightning-fast analysis tells me that without a doubt, it’s the wrong move.

First, by showing Allie just how much of a possessive asshole I am. I’m already walking a fine line with that, I know. I need her to understand that she’s as precious as diamonds and as necessary as air to me without coming off as a suffocating tyrant.

Secondly, there could be implications within my work. A public showing of her power over me, her disregard for basic rules, and that she is valuable to me would paint our relationship in a light there would be no recovering from. Word would spread, and she would be a constant weakness in my stronghold, an ever-present target for those who wish me harm.

As disappointed as I am, Allie is who she is . . . unpredictable, uncaged, and prone to flights of fancy. It both draws me to her and disturbs me. She is okay, totally safe with Logan observing her, and under no duress with her current company.

No, I’m the only one under strain in this situation, apparently, but I can withstand it.

I make a decision, one that will be the best move on both fronts. “Stay on her but out of sight. I’m going to her apartment.”

“Understood,” Logan says before clearing his throat. “And sir, I’m sorry.”

The line goes dead, him hanging up on me this time, something that I normally would not be pleased with, but I’m too caught up in Allie to care. His words give me more of an answer as to his assessment than anything else has tonight.

I get to Allie’s apartment and use my key, the one that I had copied months ago. Sitting in the dark of her living room, surrounded by the spicy floral scent of her perfume, I wait.

Logan sends me a photo he surreptitiously took of the two of them. The man does appear tall and broad, as Max reported, his hair shaggily grown out and in need of a trim, his skin sun-bronzed and faintly lined, putting his age close to Allie’s but his life significantly harder than hers.

They look cozy, familiar in the picture. It angers me anew, and I trace her smile thoughtfully.

Could I let her go? If she truly doesn’t care for me other than for sex, could I just let her walk out of my life?

No. I can never hurt her, but Allie’s leaving my life would be worse than having my heart ripped out.

Logan sends me a text message. It seems she’s coming straight here, with him. My eyes glare at the green dot on my screen, watching it move closer and closer.

It’s not long before I hear the shuffle of footsteps on the hall tile outside and take a deep breath.

Showtime.

The door opens, the hallway light silhouetting the two of them for a brief moment before she flicks on the light.

“Allison,” I say simply.

My voice is a harsh rumble.

Faster than I would’ve given the man credit for, he shoves Allie behind him, pulling a gun from his waistband. A tiny seed of approval at his protectiveness tries to take root, but I can’t accept that he is protecting her from me.

From me?

From the man who has protected her for months, even at the detriment to my own sanity?

She gasps in alarmed surprise, but when she realizes who’s sitting in her living room, the fire in her eyes is half relief and half anger.

“What the fuck, Dominick? What in the . . . you scared the shit out of me!”

The man’s appraising gaze never leaves me, his hand steady on the gun. “You know this guy, Allie?”

She rolls her eyes, carefully putting a hand on his wrist. “Yeah, he’s my . . . Dominick. Put the gun down, TJ. Why the hell do you even have that?”

But he doesn’t lower the gun, smartly still reading me as a threat regardless of Allie’s placating touch. “You gave this fucker a key?”

Allie’s eyes whip to mine, and I take the chance of looking away from the armed man to give her a look, silently asking, Really? She presses her lips together in defeat and pushes harder on his wrist.

“Seriously, just put the gun down, TJ.”

He slowly lowers the piece, and I rise from the couch just as slowly, stepping closer to Allie. “You missed your detail. Seems you’ve been running around town with an unknown male, Allison.”

Her eyes flare, and in my use of her full name and formal tone, she realizes just how much she’s scared me and pissed me off. In a tumble, her apology rushes out in one long breath.