Losing Control (Kerr Chronicles #1)(47)
Author: Jen Frederick

Good point. I drop my eyes to my plate. “Just checking.”

He folds his arms behind his head and leans back against the chair. “At first, I wanted to f**k you because you’re so adorable. The attraction we had on the street,” he pauses. “That’s not normal, Tiny.”

He plays with strands of my hair as he talks. “I didn’t want you involved in the Howe project, but your need for money was obvious. When I discovered the situation with your mother, I caved. I knew you wouldn’t accept straight-out cash from me and, frankly, you would be the perfect person for Howe to pursue.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, he pauses for a minute and then continues in a darker, grimmer tone. “I just didn’t realize that I’d want to smite him for even breathing the same air as you.”

Stirring the egg yolks with the tip of my fork, I recall the meeting when Malcolm gave me the contract to deliver to Ian. “Malcolm once said that I’d need to service a train of guys to pay off my debt . . .” I trail off at the memory. “I guess he wasn’t kidding.”

Beside me, Ian stiffens. “What debt? And I’ll kill him if he thinks he’s going to sell you.”

A pain, an unwelcome one, starts throbbing at my temple. “I had to borrow money from him after my mom got sick the first time. She thought she’d be able to continue to work even during her chemo treatments, but she couldn’t. We ended up getting evicted. To live in the apartment we are in now, I needed first and last month’s rent, which I didn’t have because I’d spent it all paying rent on the apartment we’d gotten kicked out of. Then I needed more money because my mom is too weak to keep walking up five flights of stairs. Malcolm paid off my back rent, provided me the first and last month for the apartment, and promised to do the same when I found a new place so long as I worked it off.”

Ian is seething. “He’s going to be peeing from his ass**le when I’m done with him.”

“No.” I lay a hand on his arm. “This is Malcolm’s way.” I pick up my fork again. Malcolm has his own problems. Big ones.

Ian’s face is still rock hard, and I can tell he’s having difficulty reining himself in. I ask him another pressing question. “So why the hard play in front of Richard? That didn’t seem like part of the plan.”

The topic of the project shakes Ian loose from his fantasy of beating Malcolm bloody.

“I didn’t realize how angry and jealous it would make me to see you being held by another man, and when he dropped his hands to your ass and thrust his leg between yours I wanted to rip his f**king head off and then spin around the room holding it up like a warning sign.” He drew a hand over his face. “Kaga has always been one possessive motherfucker. He doesn’t like sharing anything. Not a room, not a cab, nothing. He’s got this thing for the younger sister of a friend of his. We all see it but the friend. And he doesn’t like any male to be within about five feet of her even though he won’t make his own feelings known. I used to harass him all the time. And now, look at me . . .” He spreads his hands wide inviting an inspection.

“Now what?”

“Just hearing his name come out of your mouth makes me want to end his time here on earth.” He glares at me. “Eat your breakfast. Rich’s a work project and we’re not on the clock.”

Chapter 24

WE PART WAYS SOON AFTER, AS I have to get to work. Ian explains he has a home office that he’s going to work in today, and I leave him to reviewing financial analyst reports or whatever it is that venture capitalists do.

Around noon my phone dings. It’s a text message from an unknown number. I hit the speech recognition button and the little phone spits out a garbled message.

Victoria it was so nice to meet you last night sorry we didn’t get to finish our dad like to take you to the high top Brooklyn next weekend give me a ring.

Dictation software sucks. I figure out that Howe is telling me that he is sorry we didn’t get to finish our dance. I forward the message to Ian.

When I’m finished with that task, the phone rings again. This time it’s my mother.

“Victoria,” she chides.

Oh no, the full name. I’m in trouble. I brace myself. “Yes?”

“You didn’t come home last night, and if it weren’t for Ian calling me I would have been so worried.”

I smack my forehead. Ian has overtaken my mind. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I think I know what you were thinking,” my mom murmurs, humor palpable in her voice.

“Mom!”

“Don’t sound shocked, dear. How do you think you came to be?”

I mumble something like “virginal conception,” which elicits a full-throated laugh.

“I hope you’re practicing safe sex.”

“God, Mom, yes.” My womb might be baby safe, but my heart is hanging out there.

“Good.” Her voice softens. “I’m so glad, Tiny, that you’ve found someone. It’s been so long for you.”

“I’ve had you,” I answer.

“You need more in your life. I love you,” she concludes. “Stay safe.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

A beep sounds, and by the image I see it’s Ian calling. “It’s Ian,” I tell her. “Can I call you back?”

“No need. I’ll see you tonight.”

I flip over to Ian’s call. I’ve never been such a popular girl.

“Did you respond to Howe’s text?” he asks abruptly.

“Um, no. I don’t text. Besides, I didn’t know what to say.”

“He invited you to a nightclub in Brooklyn. ‘Victoria it was so nice to meet you last night. Sorry we didn’t get to finish our dance. I’d like to take you to Hightop in Brooklyn next weekend. Give me a call.’”

I hear something crack. “I hope you aren’t ruining anything of value.”

He expels a heavy breath. “I rarely miscalculate, but I’ve really f**ked things up. Don’t text him back.”

“I won’t.”

“Bunny,” he pauses, “I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into this mess. I don’t want you dealing with him.”

“But I want to help you,” I protest. “And if I don’t help you, then I can’t stay in the apartment or anything. It wouldn’t feel right.”

“Jesus, after last night, you still can’t accept a goddamned gift?” He snarls.