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Chapter

Four

Trev would be lying if he said this was the first time he’d fled home almost naked, still full of another man’s come, but it was definitely the first time he did so with a legitimate concern for his life.

First of all, fuck Jupiter Prospero.

In a bad way.

A terrible way.

Because he didn’t care what that bastard thought about him, and all that mattered was escaping the city as quickly as possible.

Trev cut through the adjacent city park, staying on guard as he hurried to the next block. The park could be rough this time of night and there was always construction being done on the water lines here. The danger of being mugged was nearly as great as falling into a big, poorly marked hole.

He managed to make it out unscathed and then hailed a taxi. The last time he’d driven his own car to the Cannery, it had been broken into. He’d opted to take an Uber to the club instead, but he couldn’t use the app with no phone.

The taxi driver cautioned he wouldn’t take Trev to any hourly hotels, and Trev rolled his eyes in reply and gave him his home address.

He wasn’t in the mood.

Luckily, the driver wasn’t interested in small talk, and the quiet ride gave Trev time to plan.

First, ditch the cab driver.

Trev had a single twenty dollar bill hidden in his boot for emergencies, and he didn’t want to part with it. He didn’t care if he pissed off the driver. What was the guy going to do? Call the cops?

Considering there would likely be an armed and very unhappy gangster coming after him, Trev would love for the cops to show up—no, wait.

Shit.

Most of the cops were crooked, and even if they weren’t, all Jupiter would have to do was show up and say that Trev tried to pick him up for a date of the solicitation kind. It would be his word against Jupiter’s, and Trev did not like those odds one bit.

New plan.

First, pay the cab driver with the twenty.

Second, wake Camille up and threaten to strangle her with her bathrobe sash. He wasn’t actually going to do it, but she wouldn’t know that. There was a chance Camille was already clearing out his apartment since she probably hadn’t thought Trev was going to come back. Knowing her, there was a high probability that the locks were already changed. Trev didn’t care about anything in that apartment except his cash, and if that was missing, then he was definitely strangling her.

Maybe. Strong maybe on the strangling.

Pay driver, wake up Camille, get money, haul ass.

And go where?

He had no one.

Although his boss was nice enough, there was no way he could go to her with something this insane. Juicy was his only friend, but Trev cared too much about him to get him involved. Plus, he was crazy. Juicy probably wouldn’t even understand what Trev was trying to tell him and then threaten to have Barkie bite the gangsters.

What about Boss Cold?

The thought was immediately dismissed.

Yeah, sure. Go running to the gangster who was supposedly his half-brother and didn’t even know he existed because that would have such a happy ending. While there was a tiny chance that Cold would really care about him on the basis of blood relation alone, Trev wasn’t going to gamble his life on it.

It was more likely Cold would not believe him, not care, or that he would believe him and assume he only wanted money.

No, Trev had to go somewhere else.