“I’m here about your father,” he answers my question in a roundabout way.
My worry intensifies. “My father? What about him?” Our relationship has been strained ever since Mom walked out seven years ago. But for the past few weeks it’s grown even worse. He barely speaks to me, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Very wrong. “Is he all right?” I press when the guy remains silent.
He shrugs after a few more beats. “Everything will be explained. If you’ll come with us?”
It’s framed like a question but the knot in the pit of my stomach says it’s not a request.
I may be unschooled in other areas of life, but I was born in New York. Plus, I watch a lot of true crime. Enough to know never to get into some sketchy dude’s SUV. “Not gonna happen.”
A muscle ripples in his jaw. “I don’t want to have to do this the hard way, Miss Michaels. You’re coming with us one way or the other.”
I swallow and cast a look around. This may be New York City, but our brownstone is in a quiet neighborhood.
Even if it wasn’t, New Yorkers are jaded enough not to blink or offer assistance if I’m snatched off the street right under their noses.
They’d probably think it’s one of those weird kidnap-fantasy role-playing scenarios some people are into these days.
“Leave me alone or I’ll call the police.” I pluck my cell from the front pocket of my backpack and brandish it like a weapon, even while a part of me accepts he can disarm me without breaking a sweat if he wants to.
“I don’t think you want to do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
He hesitates a few more ticks, then sighs. “I promise you’re not in danger. Mr. Prince wants to have a meeting with you, that’s all.”
I pause. “Mr. Jared Prince?” I’d never met him but I know he’s the billionaire my father works for. The demanding boss Dad gripes keeps him working long hours.
The complaints have become more frequent and bitter in the last few months.
I eye the giant and bite my lip.
Dad and I have reached an impasse about my future, since I refuse to consider anything that doesn’t involve ballet. He hasn’t thrown me out on the streetsyet,but if his job is in jeopardy, then so is my living situation.
Which leaves me in no position to tell his boss to go to hell if he’s sent his men to summon me.
As if he can sense me wavering, the giant steps closer and herds me toward the SUV. “This won’t take long,” he says.
Like I have a choice in the matter.
* * *
Jared
I giveup any pretense of working half an hour after Mason leaves my office. Instead, I flick on the camera I secretly had installed in the dance studio in Midtown.
It’s not the first time I’ve watched and rewatched Skye’s ballet class.
Like I said, I’m thorough. If that makes me a creeper stalker, then so be it.
I watch the old lady instructor snap at her pupils, my lips thinning when she singles out Skye. To be fair, the concentrated attention makes her work harder, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll work just as hard for my cock.
I groan and slide a hand over my stiff dick when Skye executes a perfect split. I watch until I’m in danger of coming in my fucking pants, then flick off the feed.
For a moment I toy with calling the exclusive escort agency I use when I need to take the edge off, but I shake my head. It’ll be a total waste of time.
I’m enthralled with one person only.
And I need her here now.