And I would.
One day, I was gonna rip that smirk clean off his face.
But not tonight.
He should thank my wife for that. Fuck these neutral grounds.
Chapter 17
Burning Anticipation
Khalil
The glass started sweating in my hand before I took the first sip of the alcohol. It was bourbon, neat, no ice, but the burn didn’t bother me. It gave me something to focus on other than the tightness building in my chest.
I didn’t usually get nervous, not about anything, but my anxiety was though the roof. I had stood across from killers and negotiated deals with men who would smile in your face and put a bullet in your back. I had been cuffed, beaten, and buried under mounds of expectations most men would fold beneath. But tonight…tonight was different.
I was thinking about Felicity.
Inviting her to the club felt like a risk I couldn’t fully justify. Not only because of her mouth or her attitude, but because of the environment itself. There was temptation around every corner, and I knew how easy it could be for her to slip. Allit took was a moment. One bad night. One wrong decision. And everything she had clawed her way back from would be gone.
I had seen that kind of weakness before. Had buried friends because of it.
Felicity wasn’t clean, not even close, but she had been trying—or at least pretending to. She had gone days without the fog in her eyes or that edge in her voice that let me know she was jonesing. That was progress, even if it was small, and I didn’t want to be the reason she lost that.
On the other hand, a part of me needed to see her outside the walls of that house. I needed to know if the woman she was becoming could survive in my world. I wanted to watch her carry herself around my people to see if she would hold her own or fold from the pressure. I needed to know she could exist in my world without being consumed by it.
More than anything, I wanted to believe she wouldn’t choose the high over herself because the truth was, I didn’t know what to do with her. One moment, she acted like a spoiled brat too proud to accept help, and in the next, she would look at me with those wide, broken eyes, like she was lost and waiting for someone to pull her back.
Every time that happened, I felt myself softening in ways I didn’t like. She was difficult, manipulative, and a liability I hadn’t asked for, she was mine now. And whether that was a mistake or not… only time would tell.
I tossed back the bourbon and grabbed the phone. It rang once, and Mrs. Deleon picked up, sounding cheerful.
“Yes, Khalil?”
“She up?”
“She’s been pacing the hallway in heels for the last hour. I’d say she’s very much awake.”
Of course she was. Felicity couldn’t sit still for shit.
“Put her on.”
A few muffled steps later, her voice came through, teasing and dangerous all at once.
“Miss me already?”
I ran a hand down my jaw, settling into the chair. “Get dressed.”
She paused. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sending someone for you. You’ve got twenty minutes. Don’t make me regret it.”
The silence that followed told me everything. She wanted to play it cool, but I could hear it in the way her breath caught. She was excited. Giddy, even. She’d never admit it aloud, but the girl was dying to be seen.
“What’s the dress code?” she asked, trying too hard to sound nonchalant.
“Something that covers more than it shows.”
