Wanted(96)

“What the fuck?” Evan asked, obviously as baffled as I was.

Cole cast one look my way. “Sorry, baby girl. I need him for a few.” He pointed at Evan. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, but Cole was already walking away, and Evan was moving fast behind him, his phone out and at his ear.

“What the fuck?” Kat said.

“Business stuff, I guess. Evan said there was some shit going down with one of their California ventures.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but I was worried and Larry’s warning and Kevin’s voice was ringing in my ears.

They’d been gone about five minutes when Flynn came over and sat down at our table. “Where’d they go?”

“Parking lot, I think.” I looked over and saw that the cougar was gone. “Lose your friend?”

“Fuck her,” Flynn said.

Kat laughed. “That’s what we thought you had planned. What happened?”

“It’s like a negotiation,” Flynn said. “We couldn’t come to terms.”

“More business shit,” I said, then swallowed the last sip of my cabernet as Flynn and Kat laughed. “Another round?”

“Hell, yes,” Flynn said, as he signaled for one of the waitresses. “I’m off work for a full thirty-six hours.”

I’d finished two more glasses of wine and was feeling the effects of it by the time Evan came back. Cole wasn’t with him, and I watched the disappointment play across Kat’s face, becoming all the more pronounced when Evan refused to explain why Cole was blowing us off. “Work stuff,” he said, which was hardly a satisfactory explanation.

What was worse was the way he was distracted for the rest of the evening. He was nice to my friends, saying the right stuff, laughing at their jokes, buying rounds of drinks. But he felt absent somehow. I put up with it until we left, but in the car, I demanded answers. “What’s going on, Evan?”

“Business,” he said. He stopped at an intersection, and shot me a sideways look. “It’ll blow over.”

“So what’s the trouble?”

“Problems,” he said. “At Destiny.”

I licked my lips, remembering his red, raw knuckles. “That guy? Larry? Are the girls okay?”

He focused on the road. “They’re fine. It’s being dealt with.”

I could tell he was getting irritated, but I pressed on anyway. “So is this a legitimate business thing? Or should I be worried that the FBI is going to swoop down on you?”

He yanked the wheel to the left even as he slammed on the brakes. I squealed, the sound of my voice matching the sound of the tires as he careened into a parking lot and killed the engine. “What the fuck, Lina?”

I gaped at him.

“Seriously,” he demanded. “What the fuck?”

I shook my head. “What’s going on, Evan? Did Cole hit you on the head? Because your mood has turned on a dime here, and I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re taking it out on me.”

“Are you staying?”

“Staying?” I repeated, because I was completely confused now.

“Are you staying in Chicago, or are you heading off to Washington in just over a week?”

“I—” I licked my lips. “I just want to close this distance, Evan. Cole burst in and you ran off with him, and when you came back, it was like you were lost behind a wall. And I get that. There’s stuff you can’t talk about—stuff we both know about but that we’ve been avoiding, and it’s my fault, too, because I’ve been skirting around the edge, as well.” I sucked in a breath, not sure if my pounding pulse was because of my words or the lingering result of his reckless driving. “I don’t want evasions anymore. I don’t want stories or allegories or what-ifs. I want you, Evan. I want the real you.”

I was spilling out my heart to him, watching his face, searching for softness, for acceptance, for relief.

Instead, all I saw were hard lines and angles. I saw regret, too, and it sent cold prickles of fear through me.

He turned away, his attention focused on some point outside the front windshield. “I want that, too,” he finally said.

I exhaled in relief and waited for him to say more. To tell me the truth. To finally let me see what was underneath the knight’s armor.

But that wasn’t what he said.

“Are you staying in Chicago?” he repeated, this time speaking very slowly and very clearly. “Or are you heading off to Washington in a week?”

“Dammit, Evan,” I shouted, losing all patience now. “Why do you keep asking me that?”