The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(16)

“Private business,” Barinov said.

“Whatever goes on in this club is my business.” Her voice was coming back to her. It still shook, but at least now she could pass it off as indignation. “I thought I made that clear a couple of nights ago.”

The Russian narrowed his eyes until they were nothing more than glacial slivers. “Not this.”

“Come on, Morgan,” Ty said, trying to pull her to the side.

She planted her feet. What was Ty thinking? She couldn’t move. He knew that. Sure, this was bad, but moving would be much worse.

“I demand to know what’s going on here,” she said, desperate to buy herself a little more time.

“No, you don’t.” Ty curled his hands around her shoulders and tugged her to the side. Morgan’s eyes went wide as she was wrenched across the hall.

God, no.

She risked a glance at Gregg’s door.

Nothing. The paper clip was gone.

Morgan sucked in a breath through a clenched jaw. How?

“Come on, Morgan,” Ty said, behind her. “Let’s get back to work.”

“There’s an idea.” Gregg pulled out his key and unlocked his office door. It opened without a hitch.

Ty slipped his hand into hers and she felt a cold, hard scrap of metal press against her palm.

Morgan snapped her head toward him. He winked down at her as he led her back out toward the bar.

Winked, for God’s sake.

Secret talents, indeed.

***

This was quickly turning into the most bizarre night of Morgan’s life. The thought raced through her mind as she stood in the pool of yellow light in the alley behind the club staring down at her deflated right tire.

She didn’t know why the flat surprised her. It only followed that in the same night that she tried her hand at a little amateur B&E, had a run in with the Russian Mob, and had an impromptu make-out session with the hottest guy she knew, she would get a flat.

Except there was a nervous flutter deep in her belly telling her that it wasn’t just a flat.

Morgan risked a step forward and craned her head around the hood of her car. Yep, the back one was flat too. It was the same on the other side.

Well, not exactly the same.

Something was sticking out of her right rear tire. Morgan froze as she saw the glint of light shining off a long silver handle.

Not handle.

Hilt.

There was a damned knife sticking out of her tire.

Someone had slashed her tires. And she had the terrible feeling that she knew who.

Morgan’s heart pounded in her chest as she frantically looked around the empty alleyway. She was alone. At least, she thought she was. Of course, anyone could be hiding out in the shadows, watching her. Waiting until she was alone and vulnerable.

Morgan swallowed past the knot that had sprung up in her throat. She’d watched too many movies.

Still, she jumped as the iron gate behind her creaked. She spun around.

Ty stood on the top step. He wore his racing jacket and cradled a black helmet under his arm.

Relief washed over her. She wasn’t alone after all. Her shoulders relaxed a touch, but she resisted the urge to run over to him.

She already owed him a lot. Too much. He’d saved her ass.

Twice.

There was probably a limit on that sort of thing. Besides, his last method was still affecting her in ways that she didn’t want to dwell on.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping onto the pavement.

“Yeah. I just have a flat tire.” She turned away from him and pulled her phone from her pocket. “Well…four flat tires.”

Ty didn’t say a word but walked over to the front of her car. He crouched down by the wheel well and slowly ran a finger over the long slash in the rubber. He looked at the one behind him.

“You still want to tell me that you’re not in some kind of trouble?”

Morgan pressed her lips together. “It was probably just some kids.”

He pulled his hand inside his sleeve before grasping the knife and pulling it out. He held it up to the light. “Expensive knife for street kids.”

Morgan shrugged and looked at her phone, figuring it wouldn’t do her any good to come up with another lie.

Ty stood up. “What are you doing?”

“I need to call a tow truck.”

“It’s three-thirty in the morning.”

“So?” she asked. Ty stood in front of her. The knife was gone, folded up and tucked into his pocket no doubt. She had the unsettling thought that he probably knew how to use it.

Ty cocked his hip against the hood. “So…you’ll be waiting out here for hours. And when someone does show up, where are they going to tow it? I’m not aware of any twenty-four hour garages in the city.”

Morgan reluctantly looked at him. He was right. She didn’t want to admit it. Hell, she didn’t want to admit to anything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours.

Except for the kiss.

Or maybe, especially that kiss.

She hadn’t made up her mind on that one yet.

“Where do you live?” he asked

“Noe Valley,” she said. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to take you home.”

She arched her brows. “On your bike?”

“That’s how I get most places.”