Page 9

CHAPTER 9

Ford

I ’m awake. It’s two in the morning, but I only came home an hour ago from cleaning up some mess for Eli. It’s unusual for Billie to text me, let alone call, especially at this time of day.

I answer on the second ring. “Where are you?” I ask.

Her first response is a hiccup. My eyebrows furrow as I look back at the phone. “Calm down, I’m fine,” she says drunkenly, then I’m getting a call to FaceTime her. I answer, and her beautiful face appears on the screen. She smiles. “Hey, handsome.”

I notice Ivy standing behind her, not looking nearly as drunk as Billie. Then again, Ivy has always been better at handling her alcohol. “Hey, Ford,” she says, giving me a quick wave. To Billie, she says, “Now, go away. I need to pee.”

“Is she pissing in an alleyway right now?” I growl.

Billie hiccups and smiles. “Yep. We really needed to go.”

“You peed in an alleyway, too? Billie, what the fuck? Where are you? Does your brother know you’re out?”

“He’s not the bosssofme !” she slurs, slumping against a brick wall. I feel the vein in my neck throb as I straighten up from my kitchen counter and go to my room to put a shirt on. “Pin me your location right now. And, for fuck’s sake, don’t move.”

She sways, and I get a quick glimpse of the short fucking dress she’s wearing. I’m fucking furious that no one is with them right now. It’s very rare that Dutton isn’t on this shit already. Unless, of course, he’s preoccupied with his fiancé.

“Boop!” She giggles as she taps the screen and drops her pin. “You know I was calling you to tell you to take me back to your place,” she says smugly as if that’s the reason why I’m picking her up. But there’s no way I’m having her in this condition.

I’m already in the car, counting my fucking blessings that she’s only ten minutes away from me.

Ivy laughs in the background. “As if Dutton would ever let you! You two are funny.” She grabs the phone and pushes back her short blonde hair. “But seriously, Ford, can you please come and pick her up so I can go get laid?”

“She’s ditching me!” Billie whines. “Ford, I?—”

Her phone cuts out. I wait for it to reconnect, but when it doesn’t, my heart fucking races. I hit the gas, threading through traffic. Fucking hell, this woman. I swear to God, if anything’s happened to them, I’ll strangle her myself.

I get that I’m only two years older than her, but it’s different for a man to be drunk in an alleyway than for a woman.

Fuck .

I try to call Ivy, but it goes straight to voicemail.

I’m swerving wildly in and out between cars as I try to call Hawke. He doesn’t answer, which means he’s probably fucking someone right now. I curse.

Five minutes later, I pull over to the curb of the location she sent me. I can’t see any sign of either of them. Fuck . Red fills my vision as I storm toward the alleyway and round the corner. A wave of relief passes through me as I catch sight of long honey-blonde hair.

Billie is crouched over a box, her ass almost hanging out of her tight pale blue dress. I grind my jaw. How many men saw her ass tonight? What the fuck is Dutton even doing? He seems to be failing miserably at this overprotective brother bullshit.

Ivy’s standing behind Billie, her arms crossed over her chest, and when she notices me, she beams a smile. “You made it!” she screams and throws herself at me, wrapping me in a hug. I catch her hand as she tries to pull my phone from my pocket. She smiles slyly. “I can always steal Hawke’s stuff, but I can never manage to get one up on— hiccup .” The smell of vodka wafts into my face. “I need your phone to call a cab. Our phones died.”

I feel an immediate sense of relief before fury runs through me. I let Ivy take the phone to call a cab, and then I storm over to Billie, furious she put herself in this predicament. But when she looks up at me, she’s all innocence, and I hate the way it makes my cock twitch. It’s not fucking okay.

I peer down at the box she’s so focused on and see there’s an all-black kitten with bright green eyes staring up at her. The thing looks fucking creepy. Like its face is too big for its malnourished body.

“Okay. My cab’s just pulled up. Bye, you two. Ford, get her home safely. We owe you one!” Ivy waves as she hands over my phone.

“Are you going to be okay?” I grit out, not at all comfortable with this situation. Christ, is this what all of their nights out in London were like in college?

She smirks. “How chivalrous, Mr. Ivanov. But, yes, his place isn’t far from here. Just make sure she gets home, and for God’s sake, don’t bring that thing into our home. I’m allergic.”

She’s gone with lightning speed, and I watch as she gets into the cab before I turn back to Billie, who’s now sitting—actually sitting—on the fucking filthy ground.

“Get up,” I growl as I lift her to her feet. Something as beautiful as her should not be touching something so filthy. It reminds me of the years when I lived on the streets.

She doesn’t seem to care as she uses a small leaf to tease the kitten, who seems curious to play with it. “It got left behind,” Billie says sadly as she curls into herself. “I wonder where it’s mom and siblings are.”

A small, unsettled feeling stirs in my chest, and I don’t like the way it dredges up memories I’d rather leave buried. Would she take pity on me and Hawke if she knew we were no better than this discarded kitten? Billie knows where we come from, but all our dirty, dark secrets we did to stay alive she doesn’t.

She looks up at me then, that brilliant fucking smile unsettling me because I know when she’s beaming so brightly like this, she wants something. “Let’s keep it.”

“Isn’t Ivy allergic to cats?”

“Yep,” she says, still smiling. It doesn’t take me too long to understand her line of thinking.

“I’m not taking that thing back to my house.”

She frowns. “Of course not. I’ll carry it in.” She picks up the box, and the kitten’s back straightens, frightened but doesn’t attempt to get out. That is, of course, until it’s at eye level with me, and the nasty little thing hisses and has the actual balls to flash its tiny little fangs at me.

I frown. “That little fucker probably has rabies.”

Billie clicks her tongue. “We all probably have rabies, Ford. Get over it.”

I go to counter her logic, but then she looks around as if suddenly realizing something. “Oh shit, I forgot my jacket at the club. It was my favorite one, too. It cost me ten thousand, and that was on sale. Fuck.”

I stare at her in bewilderment. “We’re not done discussing the cat.”

“Of course we are.” She rolls her eyes. “You can’t let me leave behind a stray kitten, Ford. And besides”—she looks back at it lovingly, and I never thought I’d be jealous of an animal—“it kind of reminds me of you.”

I blanch and stare back at the little fucker, who purrs for her but hisses at me. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

She giggles. “It’s fur is the same color as yours. And it’s nice to me and no one else.”

I can’t help but notice the backhanded compliment. She might be drunk, but her smart little mouth seems to be fine. “I wouldn’t say I’m particularly nice to you.”

She smirks as she passes me. That fuzzy little fucker hisses, and I can’t reprimand him for having keen instincts. I silently fall into step behind her as she coos at the kitten.

When we round the corner, I notice a few people staggering out of the club.

“Is that the club you and Ivy were at?” I ask, and she nods.

I take the lead toward the bouncer, who halts me immediately. Fair, considering I look exactly like the type who shouldn’t be let into a club.

Billie pops her head around my shoulder, her thick hair falling over her shoulder. “Hi. I left my coat here. Can I get it?” She bats her lashes at him.

“No can do,” the bouncer says, not looking at her.

I grab him by the collar, and his eyes widen with surprise. “She was being polite. I’m not so nice.”

The kitten hisses behind me again, and Billie awkwardly pulls at my shoulder. “Ford, it’s fine. Not everything has to end in violence.”

The bouncer tries to break my grip but can’t. Shit fucking bouncer. Another two bouncers come out to assist, but Billie stands in front of them, the box with the kitten in it propped on her hip. “Don’t fucking touch him. He’s crazy,” she warns with a brilliant smile. And I can’t help but smirk. Then she turns to me. “Ford, let’s take Felix home.”

“Felix?” I question. She shoves the bouncer back into the wall.

Billie’s already walking toward my car, and I’m grappling between the need to get her jacket or following after her. Her attention span is shorter when she’s drunk. She goes to open the door and sets the alarm off. I curse under my breath.

“Ford,” she whines, and I rush over to her. Why do I feel like tonight is going to be a nightmare? It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen Billie this drunk. If ever.

“That cat isn’t com?—”

She drops into the passenger seat, slams the door behind her, then waits patiently for me to join her.

I stare at my car that’s basically been hijacked by a very drunk Billie…and Felix the fucking cat.

My teeth grind as I conclude that there is no reasoning with Billie right now. If anything, she’ll start kicking and screaming, and I don’t have it in me to pry the stray from her hands. It’s that fucking cat’s lucky night.

When I get in the car, she’s already tuned the radio to some classical music, which is very different from the heavy metal I usually listen to when I’m tattooing. When I notice she doesn’t have her seat belt on, I reach over to buckle her in. The kitten hisses and swipes at my arm, and I curse.

“Felix, no!” Billie reprimands. “Gosh, he’s cute, though, isn’t—” She hiccups. “We need to get some cat food on the way home.”

I turn to face her. “My home?”

“Well, duh. Felix can’t come to mine. Ivy’s allergic, remember?” she says as if I’m too slow. My jaw clenches, yet I find myself pulling away from the curb.

“I’ve never had a pet before,” she singsongs, and I side-eye her, still perplexed that she wants this kitten but thinks bringing it to my home is the solution.

“I’m more of a dog person,” I admit.

She looks at me and then angles her head so her loose curls fall to one side. “I would’ve thought you were more of a cat person.”

“Why?” I’m not sure if I want the answer.

“You’re independent, just like a cat, and cats are sneaky, doing their own thing. You do what you want and stick to the shadows.” She hiccups again. “Fuck, did we get my coat?” she asks, and I curse under my breath. She’s so drunk, and the only reason I didn’t bust my way through the club doors is because I was chasing after her.

The cat circles the box a few times and then lies down. I envy how comfortably it sits in her lap and the way she looks at it adoringly.

How the fuck am I so jealous over a cat?

“Does Dutton know you’re out?” I ask, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

She pouts at me. “I’m not just Dutton’s little sister, you know.” I try not to smirk at her tone. For all her fiery temper, I must confess I find the brattiness in her…cute. She’s always trying to step out from her brother’s shadow and defying the idea that she’s a princess. But she very much acts like a bratty little princess sometimes. “And, yes, sort of. He’s busy with Posie tonight. Ivy and I went out to celebrate. I don’t need a permission slip.”

That’s news to me. Dutton monitors her every move, and while he’s in town, it heightens the risk of her being found at my house. Then again, I’m sure he’d be appreciative of me collecting her in the state she’s in.

So I carefully ask, “What are you celebrating?”

That big smile breaks over her face again. “I got a job as a junior accountant at Aunty Rya’s law firm.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I’m not shocked Billie was able to find work so quickly. She’s bright and personable. She can work a room like it’s nobody’s business. But I am surprised by the fact that she got a job with Rya Monti. “Congratulations.”

Part of me wants to ask what kind of night she had. More specifically, how many men were floating around them? But I suppress my desire for the answer. We’re just fucking, and the way she’s staring lovingly at that kitten, tonight is not the night.

My phone rings, and Eli’s name shows up on the screen. I place my finger to my lips as I answer via the car’s Bluetooth. “We have a problem.” It’s the first thing he says.

“Where?” I ask.

“My bar. Be here in twenty. I’ll call Hawke.” Eli hangs up.

Billie mouths the word wow then says, “Good to see my cousin is straight to the point as usual.” She yawns. The location appears on my screen, and I gauge the time it’ll take to drop Billie off and reach him. “Oh, and I got a new apartment. It’s really nice. You should visit sometime,” she adds as she leans her head against the window.

I side-eye her and watch as she passes out immediately. She looks peaceful.

I consider how easily she spoke with me tonight as if there’s no barrier between us. That me picking her up from a drunken night out is as normal as any other night. She comes to my house for sex. That’s all it’s ever been. But tonight, when her phone cut out, I panicked. And I don’t like that lack of control. Billie is not someone I can control; she never has been. She’s a free spirit in every sense, besides the overprotectiveness her brother shackles her in.

But a small part of me thinks maybe she’s feeling too at ease with me when I’m the last person she should consider a companion of any kind. She has no idea how much better than me she is. The world is at her fingertips, and someone like me will only weigh her down.

Yet I can’t help myself from pulling into a service station to purchase cat food, an electrolyte drink, and pain killers because she’s going to need them when she wakes. I am at her mercy, beck and call.

When I return to the car, she’s snoring. Not elegantly but like a train. The cat’s ear twitches and it opens one groggy eye as if wary of me, but then goes back to sleep, just like its savior. That little fucker got comfortable real quick.

I pull into my driveway, turn off the car, and then go around to open her door, catching her head before she falls out. I shake her once. Then twice. Dear God, she sleeps like the dead. I awkwardly lift her out of the car. And although she’s passed out and deadweight in my arms, she clings to the box, the kitten hissing at me like a gnarly little fucker.

“I will defang you,” I tell him, which surprisingly has him taking a step back in the box.

After I get us inside the house, I carry her to my room and lay her on my bed, tucking her under the blanket. The kitten is beside her, and I’m still majorly pissed he somehow made his way in here. A small part of me considers putting the little fucker on the street where he belongs, but I’d never admit openly that I’m not that much of a monster.

I know what it’s like to be abandoned and then to be given a new home and family. I just hope by tomorrow, he flees or Billie decides to find him a proper home.

I take a seat beside her, watching as she sleeps, fixated on her soft features. For all her wit, spite, and fire, Billie is one of the kindest women I’ve met. It might not be obvious on the surface, but she couldn’t be a more polar opposite to my demons.

Demons that I’m about to exploit again after only working with Eli a few hours ago. Whatever’s happened in that time must be bad.

I tuck a piece of Billie’s hair behind her ear. It’s strange to have her in my bed like this. And I wonder if she’ll regret it tomorrow. I need to put distance between us, but I’m not entirely sure I’m capable of doing that. So, at the very least, I need her to understand that this is only sex.

I’m not the hero who saves the day and picks her up when she’s drunk. I’m the feral fucking cat hissing in the alleyway. Hunting and always finding my prey. I can’t let her be my next target. She can’t be my next vice.