Deep (Chicago Underground #8)(19)

The car was already in motion, tires squealing as we moved away from the curb. The car door slammed shut on its own, and I was tossed backward again, my world upending for about the millionth time since I’d found Philip at my door last night.

“Where to?” a man asked.

“Out of town,” Philip said, sounding casual and not out of breath. “I need to let things cool off while I call in a few favors.”

Why did everything he said sound like a riddle? Things to be cooled and favors to be called in. That was how he talked, how he worked, with evasion and secrecy. That was who he was. I couldn’t forget that.

From the outside this car looked like a regular Escalade, the kind rich moms use to drive their kids to soccer practice. From the inside it had clearly been modified to work like a limo. The backseats were gone and replaced with smooth leather rows lining the front and back, the windows heavily tinted.

Philip sat in the seat closer to the driver, facing the back of the vehicle. One arm was slung over the top of the seat, his legs kicked wide. He looked like some kind of savage royalty, with no shirt and hard muscles. A trickle of fresh blood wound down his side and over his black suit pants, turning invisible.

When I righted myself on the backseat, I saw a pair of curious eyes watching me through the rearview mirror. Adrian. I remembered him from before. Philip’s right-hand man—his butler, his driver, his anything-that-needs-to-get-done guy.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, a faint note of humor in his voice.

I fought the smile, but it came anyway. Adrian had always been nice to me, and back then I’d needed all the friends I could get. “Right outside my dorm? What a coincidence.”

“A sociology major, huh. I always pegged you for something in business. You know, tough-as-nails manager with a killer manicure.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because you dream about a woman telling you what to do…”

That earned me a snort-laugh. “If that’s the case, I might need a new boss. One with a little more X chromosome.”

Philip made a sound not unlike a growl. He pressed the button to raise the divider between the front and the backseats. “Stop pestering Adrian.”

As if he had anything to worry about, as if anything I said could annoy Adrian or make him quit. Even back then I had suspected that Adrian had a crush on Philip, but maybe it was unavoidable if you worked that close to him. We were like flowers, helplessly turning our faces to the bright sun of him.

I met Adrian’s eyes right before the black divider reached the top. We shared a moment of mutual understanding and sympathy. It was hard to love a man and know nothing could come of it.

When the divider slid shut, closing us in, I turned on Philip. “What did you mean I’m with you now—for better or for worse?” I said the last part in an exaggerated imitation of his voice, low and slightly menacing.

“Really?” he asked drily.

“That’s how you sound.”

The dire look he gave me promised retribution, and a shiver ran through me. “Do not test me unless you’re willing to face the consequences.”

“The kind of consequences where you let me leave? Because I could go for that one, actually. Helping you when you were hurt is one thing. I have no interest in being a fugitive for…well, nothing. I haven’t done anything.”

“Hostage, remember?”

Yeah, I wouldn’t be forgetting the breath-stealing terror of having a gun pointed at my head for a while. “I’m serious. I want to go back.”

He sobered. “You can’t. They know where you are. They know who you are to me. You wouldn’t be safe.”

“Wait…” My heart was suddenly beating faster. “You mean, ever? I wouldn’t be safe ever?”

He was silent for what felt like an eternity—an eternity in which my entire life, my future, my family all turned to dust, leaving a wasteland of nothingness for me to live in. “They know who you are to me,” he finally said, almost painfully quiet. As if he understood exactly what he was asking me to give up.

No, what he was forcing me to give up.

“This is crazy. I’ll just go back and I’ll—I’ll talk to the cops. I’ll tell them what happened—”

“And what, kitten? They’ll interrogate you for everything you learned about me, both last night and years ago. They’ll arrest you for harboring a fugitive. Is that what you’re so eager to go back to?”

My lower lip trembled, and I bit down hard to make it stop. “They’ll understand.”

“Barnes is out for blood, and he won’t mind f*cking you over just to mess with me.”

“This is crazy. There has to be another way. I can’t just be…gone.”

“And that’s just the cops. The men I saw from the window? They were something else. The cops can’t protect you from them, no matter what they tell you. These men—they’d hurt you. I mean really hurt you, kitten.”

I swallowed, knowing exactly what kind of hurt he meant. The kind with rough hands and cruel sneers. The kind that almost got me years ago, that had been in the process of getting me before Shelly stepped in and saved me. The kind that had kept me afraid and withdrawn all this time, unable to bear even a kiss from a boy, even one as sweet as Sloan.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t just leave.”