Deep (Chicago Underground #8)(5)

We were both tense as we approached the front door. A man in a smart vest and slacks answered the door. His clothes looked expensive enough, his eyes jaded enough, but he didn’t quite exude power. And definitely not anger. He seemed more bored than anything.

“Philip’s not here,” he said, and I couldn’t help a quiet sigh of relief. I didn’t want to meet this man—a man who could inspire fear in a woman as self-assured as Shelly.

Except I could feel Shelly’s panic—and I knew that we had nowhere else to go.

“But you’re free to wait here until he returns.”

*

WE WAITED IN some kind of living room, the oversize molding and furniture making me feel small. Shelly kicked off her shoes and curled up on the sofa, falling asleep within minutes. Apparently it had been a bad night for her.

I was right there with her, dark memories following me into sleep, crowding my nightmares.

I dreamed of men’s leering faces and cruel words. I dreamed of rough hands and lingering pain. I dreamed of a warm weight on top of me—and I fought it. Just like before, I kicked and punched, determined to fight my way out.

“Shhh,” came a voice I didn’t recognize. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

My vision slowly cleared from sleep, blurry shapes sharpening into a man. He wore a white dress shirt, slightly rumpled but clearly well fit on his powerful frame. His gaze took in everything—from my tangled hair to my messy makeup to the bruises on my wrists.

And he was holding a blanket.

That had been the weight I dreamed about. He wasn’t going to hurt me.

This must be the man we came to see. The man who owned this mansion. The man more dangerous than the one who hunted us now.

“You’re Philip.”

He gave me a small smile. “And you are?”

I shrugged, only half-awake. “She calls me Ella.”

He glanced at Shelly, who was asleep on the couch. “Why did she bring you here?”

Would he kick us out? If he did, I’d have nowhere to go. Nowhere safe. I’d be lost. But even more than myself, I was worried for Shelly. She had betrayed him, she said. Sold him out. He might kill her—and she’d risked so much for me already.

“Please don’t hurt her,” I whispered. “She saved me.”

A slight frown crossed his handsome face. “Why would you say that?”

Oh shit, what if he didn’t know what she’d done? I couldn’t tell him. “No reason.”

Then he did something that surprised me. He laughed softly. “All right, Ella. I’m not going to hurt her. Even if she is f*cking a cop.”

My throat was dry. “Please.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes. He reached for me, and I flinched. It didn’t stop him. He ran a finger down my cheek, barely a whisper, maybe not even touching, just moving the air. “So soft. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, do you?”

The air felt too thin. I couldn’t breathe enough in. “I’m not.”

He looked amused. “Not what? Not begging?”

I was definitely begging, but he was right. I wasn’t sure what I needed most. Leave me alone. Except that we’d come to his house. “Let us stay,” I said, my voice hoarse.

Someone would pay the cost of that. Shelly? Me?

He studied me for a long moment. Then he gently placed the blanket over me again, cocooning me in warmth. “Rest,” he finally said. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

And somehow I did rest—even knowing he was there, watching. It wasn’t a deep sleep, more like a haze of exhaustion that I let creep over me, a brief respite from the fear I’d known since men first stopped me outside the bathroom of the club. I was safe, for now. We’ll figure it out in the morning.

I was almost completely asleep when I heard Shelly stir.

“Good,” Philip murmured to her. “You’re up.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice thick and weary.

“For arriving uninvited in the middle of the night, or for ratting me out?” he asked.

“Both.”

I kept my eyes closed, pretending to sleep. Maybe it was wrong of me to eavesdrop when they didn’t know I was awake, but I was far past right and wrong, white and black. There was only safety, and I would do anything to have it.

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

She laughed softly, a tinkling sound that was somehow sensual. “Twenty bucks on the clearance rack. Sorry, babe. Not everyone keeps me in Dior.”

He grunted in response. “I take it you’re desperate, since you’re here.”

“Fishing for a compliment, Philip?” She laughed again. “Yes, you’re right. I wouldn’t have come back otherwise. I figured you’d have me strung up by now.”

“I would have, if I’d thought you wanted it too. Adrian’s made up rooms for the two of you.” My heartbeat quickened at the mere mention of me. “You’ll be safe for the night at least.”

“And after?”

I held my breath, waiting. Hoping.

“Don’t press your luck, Shelly,” he said. “One of these days, it’s going to run out.”

It wasn’t much of a promise for the future, but it was all he left her with. I heard his footsteps grow quiet, and then he was gone. Shelly touched my shoulder to wake me, and it wasn’t hard to pretend I was exhausted—because I was.