"Don't make me kill you, Khalid," he suggested with a hint of fear. Because Khalid wasn't above using blackmail, bribes, or threats when it came to procuring male company during those shopping trips.
Khalid grinned. "You will contact the judiciary committee then?" he asked as the limo pulled into the basement parking lot of the building where Chase had a large upstairs apartment.
"Yeah. First thing." Chase nodded. Anything to get out of that shopping trip. Anything to protect Kia.
Khalid chuckled as the chauffeur opened the door and Chase bounded out of the limo. Once the door closed and the chauffeur was pulling away, Khalid slid open the partition between the driver and passenger areas.
"Was the fuel bill sufficient to raise father's eyebrows, do you think?" he asked Abdul with a hint of amusement.
Abdul's smile flashed in the rearview mirror. "Not yet, Mr. Khalid."
Abdul always smiled.
"Hmm. Perhaps our next trip then."
Abdul laughed at the remark. Khalid headed through the snow toward the estate his father had deeded to him the year before.
The old bastard was desperate to get in Khalid's good graces for some reason that Khalid had yet to understand.
The girls who had arrived two years before still had the power to enrage Khalid. They had all been under eighteen, terrified, bought from their families and sent to a foreign land and a man who refused to do what they were taught was his duty. Take them to his bed.
He ground his teeth at the thought.
They were young women now, adjusting to their studies, their lives. Soon, perhaps, he could find them husbands. That was his duty, as though they were his children. And in many ways, this was how the relationship between them had evolved.
It wasn't his girls who concerned him now, though. It was his friend, Chase. The past months had been a nightmare. After the attempted murder of Cameron, Chase's twin, and Jaci, Cam's fiancée, by a friend Chase had been rather fond of, the other man had become darker, more apt to solitary pursuits than normal.
The Brockheims, parents of the girl who had nearly destroyed the fabric of Chase's life, hadn't taken her death well. Nor did they believe the fabrication the detective on scene had attempted to tell—that he himself had killed the girl after she shot Congressman Roberts.
The club members were still scrambling to protect Chase and Cameron against any measures the Brockheims would take against them. Not that they seemed to be taking any. But Khalid considered himself an intuitive man. And intuition told him two things.
One, Chase Falladay had never managed to rid himself of the fascination he had with Kia Rutherford. The second, and this one was by far the more worrisome, Moriah Brockheim could very well haunt Chase from the grave, in ways that could end up destroying Chase.
Moriah had been a friend, but she had also touched Chase's heart with her innocence and her air of fragility. Kia Rutherford had been off limits to Chase because she touched his heart. But Khalid knew that Chase had entertained thoughts of a relationship with Moriah because, despite his affection for her, Moriah wasn't the type of woman who could tempt his emotions.
It was saddening, remembering Moriah. For all her gentle ways, she had been insane. She had seen Cam and Jaci as a threat because Jaci had known what the Roberts were. That their sexuality was darker even than that of the members of the club, and Moriah's demented love for Annalee Roberts had driven her to attempt to kill, Cam and Jaci.
To protect his brother, Chase had had no choice but to kill Moriah before she pulled the trigger on the gun she had held on Cam. That death haunted Chase, and it had caused him to draw back from forming other attachments.
Chase had killed a woman he cared for. Now he was faced with a relationship with the woman he loved. Khalid knew that releasing that guilt and his emotions wouldn't be easy for Chase.
"Get decent, dammit. I'm getting hungry," Chase called downstairs as he opened the door that connected his apartment to the apartment his brother and Jaci inhabited now.
He heard Jaci's laughter and a few seconds of scrambling before she moved into view, smiling up at him from the foot of the stairs.
She had a robe tightly belted around her. He'd have to make do with that. For the first time in the two months since he and Cameron had silently come to the agreement that Cameron was no longer the sharing type, Chase hadn't gotten instantly hard at the memories of the women he and Cameron had shared so easily.
Well, perhaps not easily, Chase amended to himself as he moved down the stairs.
Jaci had managed to get under his brother's guard, though, now just as she had when they were both younger.
"Morning, gorgeous." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and planted a kiss on top of her head. "Tell me breakfast is almost ready. Please."