Page 118 of Dangerous Attraction

Evening approaches fast, windows now cast in shadows. I yawn, rubbing at my blurry eyes from staring at the TV for too long, then drag myself from the sofa and stretch out my limbs.

"I should get going. I have to work tomorrow since all the guys are back."

"And I bet you're missing your man," Emery teases, which only makes Liam grimace and elbow her in the ribs.

"I may be okay with it, but it's still going to take me some getting used to." I lean down to hug them goodbye, then put my shoes on. "Do you want me to drive you?"

I shake my head. "No, it's okay. I'm going to call your brother and get him to pick me up."

After telling me to be safe, they both go back to the show they're watching, as I quietly make my way out of Emery's apartment, and call Reeve.

He answers before I even make it to the stairwell.

"Are you leaving now?"

Giggling, I roll my eyes, even though he can't see me.

"Hello, to you too, Mr Impatient." He huffs through the phone. "To answer your question, yes, I am leaving. Want to come and get me?"

"Putting my shoes on now," he says with no hesitation whatsoever.

Reaching the bottom of the steps, I press the green button on the wall that unlocks the main building door.

Balancing my phone between my ear and my shoulder, I push the door open, then button up my jacket to protect myself from the freezing wind.

"It's cold out," I tell him as I glance around the empty parking lot. "Should I start walking toward you?"

"No, you stay put," he grumbles, shuffling around on the other end. "I'll bring the car, too."

Silently celebrating, I move toward the bench at the side of the building, but a voice I know all too well halts me in my tracks.

Spinning around, I come face to face with my father's bloodshot eyes.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Reeve

It's not until I walk out of the bar and climb into my car, leaving the noise of all the other members behind, that I realize Trix is talking to someone else.

Starting the car, I connect her call to the Bluetooth and turn the volume up, listening closely.

I can't work out exactly other person is saying, but I can tell from the timbre in their voice that it's a man, and from Trix's sharp, accelerated breathing flowing through the phone, I can tell she's panicked.

When I hear the man mention something about following her, my heart squeezes tight, and my fingers dig into the leather of my steering wheel.

"Trix, what's going on?"

She doesn't answer me, and I slam my foot down on the pedal, racing down the road and away from the clubhouse.

"Trix?" I shout, tapping the screen of my phone to double-check our call is still connected.

"I'm fine," she mutters, breathing erratically. "Everything's okay."

Reaching the end of the road, I yank the wheel to the right, skid across the tarmac, then continue speeding down the road.

"Who's with you?"

"I don't have any money for you!" she shouts, not replying to me, but to the person hassling her.