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Where I expected to see pity, I saw compassion, and when he ran a hand down my arm this time, I nodded. “Thanks.”
I spun back to look out the window, refusing to look at the stoic man in the seat beside me. God knew what King was thinking as he typed away on his phone. Hell,Ididn’t even know what to think. I didn’t know what to do.
My father had been arrested.
Fuckingarrested.
I had no idea what that meant for me and my mother. What that meant for my future. If all my father’s assets had been seized, did that mean we were…broke?
I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to work out what to do next, where to go. If I couldn’t go back to the Towers and I had no fucking money, what now?
“I need my phone.”
King stopped typing to look at me.“I told you, no.”
“And I’m telling you Ineedit.”
“What youneedis somewhere safe to go. Somewhere away from prying eyes and nosy reporters.”
“And how the hell do you think I’m going to be able to organize thatwithout my fucking phone?”
“East, maybe you should try to calm down for a minute. King is only trying to?—”
“Don’t, Zac.” I held up my hand. “This is my life that’s being fucked over right now. My world that has just gone to hell in a handbasket. I need to find out what happened, talk to my mother, make arrangements on where the hell I’m going to live—sinceapparentlymy place is off-limits. So please,do not tell me to calm down.”
My body vibrated with misdirected fury, but since my father wasn’t around to yell at, Zac and King were the unlucky recipients.
“Jorge, change of plans,” King said to his driver, his demeanor infuriatingly calm. “Let’s head to the house.”
He then turned and said, “You’re coming home with me.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
king
THE DECISION TO bring East and Zac back to my place had been an easy one.Not one that I’d made lightly, but one I’d made the second I heard what had happened to East’s father.
Niles Easton’s arrest was now the hottest gossip to hit New York’s business and social scene in years, and that meant it was open season on anyone connected to him. Including his high-profile son, who would be the easiest way to gain access to the fallen real estate mogul. Something I wouldn’t let happen—not on my fucking watch.
“I’m not coming home with you.” East’s natural instinct to fight me at every turn was in full swing as he grappled for some kind of control in this uncontrollable situation he found himself in.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I might if you give me my?—”
“No. It’s too risky. I know you want to call your mother, to find out what’s going on. I can give you that. But not here. Not on this phone.” I put a hand over the lapel of my jacket. “Let me help you.”
East looked away from me, back out the window, but his silence was answer enough.
Jorge continued our drive through the streets of Manhattan, the city lights a stark contrast to the islands’ twinkling starlight as he made his way through the busy streets and headed down the Upper West Side, where Zac’s place was.
As we approached his turnoff, I glanced over my shoulder to see him sitting quietly in his seat, his eyes fixed on the back of East’s head, a worried expression etched across his features.
“Zac?”
He looked my way, and the concern in his eyes spoke volumes on how much he cared for East despite their “casual” arrangement.
“Would you like me to drop you home, or?—”
