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Me: Don’t lie to me, Brother. You’re outside of her house right now, aren’t you?
Evan: Text me again and I’m blocking you.
Chuckling, I put my phone away and gulp down my fifth glass of ouzo.
Leon walks in, cigarette in mouth. “Afentikó!” he yells.
Xander grunts. “Put that fucking shit away,” he says, pointing at the cigarette.
Quickly, Leon grabs an empty glass off the table and puts out the bud. “My bad, my bad! Cyrus is here to see you, Dion.”
I roll my eyes so fucking hard, they threaten to roll back in my head. “What the fuck does he want?”
I don’t know why Evander hired that dumbass. He’s the epitome of a walking ball of stress at all times, and I’m always left dealing with his shit.
Leon shrugs his shoulders. “No clue, but he looks stressed.”
“What else is new?” I retort with a grumble. I’ve been here for an hour, and I’m ready to burn the whole place down.
I force myself off my seat and walk toward the entrance of the club. As soon as I step outside to where Cyrus is waiting for me, he starts speaking. “I’m sorry. I tried to get more info out of him, but he wouldn’t budge,” he word-vomits. “Then, he started getting suspicious and asked who I worked for, so I darted out of there. I don’t think anyone followed me, but?—”
“Woah, woah, woah!” I interrupt him mid-speech. “Christé mou, take a fucking breath, Cyrus.” I rub my temples. The buzz from the alcohol is already leaving me, and I now feel a headache coming on.
Cyrus went to get more information out of Peter Kouvalakis’s men. Evander thought it would be better to send someone frail and harmless looking to not raise questions, but judging by the state of Cyrus now, sweat stains and all, I’m thinking it wasn’t a good idea.
I take a deep breath. “Start from the beginning.”
As Cyrus recounts his experience, my mind cannot focus on anything he’s saying. All I want to do is go back inside and have another drink.
“Okay, go home. I’ll take care of it,” I tell Cyrus when he’s done speaking, shooing him away as I pass Leon at the door. Something else I’ll have to do tonight.
“Have someone escort him home to make sure he isn’t followed,” I whisper to Leon, and he nods.
Back inside, I sit down at the booth and take a sip of my drink. Losing myself in the haze, I feel a sudden weight land on my lap.
I look up and see Amber grinning at me. We met at this very club a while back and have been spending some time with her. More specifically, she’s a woman I’ve been fucking.
Her body presses against mine as she wraps her arms around my neck, her pouty lips dangerously close to my ear.
“Hey, stranger,” she purrs, her breath hot against my skin.
I grind my teeth, my grip tightening around my glass. This is exactly what I don’t need tonight. Amber and I have had our fun, but she’s beginning to overstep. I made it clear from the start this was just a hookup, but she’s been texting and calling at all hours, acting like we’re a thing. I can tell she’s starting to believe this is something it’s not. She’s a decent girl, but I don’t do clingy. Clingy means attachment, and attachment means feelings, and feelings are a luxury I can’t afford.
I try to lean back to put some distance between us, but she doesn’t take the hint. Her hands trail down my chest, fingers grazing the buttons of my shirt. I catch her wrists, holding her still.
“Amber, not tonight,” I say, my voice rougher than intended.
She frowns playfully, her brown eyes searching mine. “Why not?
“I’m not in the mood.”
“Come on. We always have a good time, don’t we?”
I sigh, fighting the urge to push her off me. “We did. But that’s all it was—a good time. Nothing more. I already told you.”
Her expression hardens, the amused glint in her expression replaced by something darker. “So, that’s it? You’re just done with me?”
I nod, my patience wearing thin. “Yeah, that’s it.”
