He raises his glass. “To Micah and Allie.”
I toss back the shot and clench my jaw against the hot whiskey, then slide the empty glass back down to the bartender, as I add to Ryder, “I know that you have McKenna protected, and I thank you for that, I’m just . . .”
“Exhausted?” Ryder offers.
“Yeah, exhausted.” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Beyond ready for all this shit to be behind us.”
Ryder watches me then frowns, shaking his head. “This entire situation has been frustrating to no end, and yet . . .” He glances behind him at his sassy blond girlfriend, Hadley, who’s holding on to Taylor’s hands and dancing, a big smile on her face. “Without this shit with the tabloids, I doubt I would be with her.” He turns to me and heaves a long sigh. “And yet, at the same time, I watch what you’re going through—”
“Be happy for yourself, because I am happy for you,” I interject, cupping his shoulder. “Don’t let my mood make you think otherwise. Besides, Micah said it before, and he’s right; soon this shit will be resolved and life will move on.”
Ryder cocks his head. “How will your life move on, will McKenna be in it?”
I pause and consider that thought. It’s so easy to open my mouth and say yes. She’s the woman I want. Christ, she’s the woman I need. But I’m not foolish enough to pretend we don’t have a major obstacle in our way. Her brother. I won’t be sure how I feel about him until I see him face-to-face. How will I handle the way he’s sold us out?
Truth is, I also know McKenna will pick him over me, because that’s where her loyalty lies. While I can respect that, and know I’d love for her to be that loyal about me, I know life is hard and sometimes not very pretty.
“Wanting her in my life is not the problem,” I finally reply.
“Then what is?” Ryder asks.
“Her fucking brother, and the trouble he’s created for us all.”
Right as Ryder’s lips part to reply, his phone suddenly dings, and his brows furrow, immediately telling me something isn’t right. He retrieves his phone and curses. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What problem?” I frown.
He flips his phone, and on the screen, I see McKenna leaving her building, her purse in her hand. That’s not the problem. Next to her is a man I don’t know, but the other one is Tommy, Marcus Draken’s goon.
Fury shakes my hand. “Please tell me McKenna has not willingly left her house with these men.”
Ryder sighs. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”
McKenna
A ten-minute car ride later into Pacific Heights, and I’m exiting a black Cadillac Escalade and entering a brick-and-stucco Bavarian-style mansion located on Billionaires Row. Marcus’s bodyguard, Tommy, dressed in a suit similar to what I’d seen him in before, leads me through the grand two-story house, with the cherrywood floors, staircase, and paneling, another man follows close behind us.
Nerves rattle me as we pass a living room to my right, then a large formal dining room before the men are bringing me into a library, books lining the walls from ceiling to floor with a bank of windows that let moonlight stream in. I keep my purse in front of me, hoping that microphone on my cell phone I secretly turned on in the car will record this conversation.
Marcus is sitting in a brown leather wingback chair, reading a book bound in dark leather, and it’s beyond clear how powerful he is. He all but reeks of authority, but the truth is right now he’s my only way to Evan. And as much as Gabe wouldn’t want to know, this isn’t the first time I’ve been around men like Marcus Draken. The last time I bailed my brother out, it had been with a man just like Marcus, only that loan shark had been out of Las Vegas, not San Francisco.
No matter what, the very last thing I want is that tabloid capturing a photo of Gabe at the house of Marcus Draken, career criminal. He’s taken enough hits for me already. I won’t allow his life to crumble because he’s cleaning up my brother’s mess. This is my problem, not his. With that, I stuff all my nerves into a place in my soul that Draken can’t touch.
“Sir,” Tommy says as we approach. “Ms. Archer is here to see you.”
Marcus shuts his book with an audible thud and gives a bright smile. “Ms. Archer, it’s lovely to see you again.” He places the book on his lap, watching me closely as I reach him.
“You said you had information on my brother,” I get right to the point. “What is it?”
Marcus swats at the air. “We’ll discuss that soon enough, but first”—he gestures to the chair across from him—“let’s discuss the money I’m owed, shall we?”
I dart my eyes to the guy by the door, who looks slightly bored, then watch Tommy settle in behind the chair that I drop down into. None of these men can be trusted, and I’m aware of the danger I’ve put myself in. But I know men like Marcus; he wants his money. I give him that, and I walk away. Because at the end of the day, even if his business is dirty, it’s still business, and he simply wants to get paid.
However, I focus on all the things he didn’t say to ensure I have the evidence I need, in case I need it. “Do you care to explain how you are owed money, considering when we spoke last you said that you didn’t know my brother?”
Marcus’s mouth twitches, eyes dangerously darken. “At the time, it didn’t feel right to discuss business with those unrelated to it.”
“You mean because Gabe was there?”