Page 63 of The Illicit Play

Grady’s gonna be so pissed off at me.

He probably hates the fact that I called him.

I’m an inconvenience. A pain in the ass.

Shit. I should have called someone else.

Who?

Wily? Like that was ever gonna happen.

Sniffing, I wipe the back of my hand across my cheek and meekly shuffle after the man. He’s not saying anything, thank God, and I follow him out into the store, crossing my arms tight and keeping my head down.

“Okay. So, here’s the deal.” The man’s voice makes me flinch. “You never come into my store again. I’ve taken your photo, and I will be pinning it to the wall with all the other sticky fingers who have come before you.”

“What?” My head jolts up, my eyes wide.

When he took my photo earlier, I thought it was just for his own records, something to keep behind the counter, but?—

He points to the wall behind the register, and I gape at the collage of images.

“No, please. I can’t— You can’t?—”

“Blake.” Grady’s voice is a quiet rumble, and without meaning to, I look up and spot him. I’d planned to keep my eyes down and not make contact, but… there he is, standing on the other side of the counter.

He’s so tall and strong, waiting there in his cargo pants and a Nolan U Cougars sweatshirt. Part of me wants to run into his arms right now. I want to rest my head against his chest, feel that strength wrap around me, and bawl like a freaking baby.

But he won’t want me to do that.

I dare a proper look at his face, and yep… he definitely doesn’t want me to do that.

Swallowing, I curl in on myself, my gaze shooting back to the safety of the floor.

“It’s going up, and you’re just gonna have to live with that. Actions have consequences,” the man barks at me. “Now, your friend here has paid for the bottle you tried to lift and assured me that you won’t be getting one drop of it. He’s also promised me that you will not be walking into this place again.”

I nod.

“I need to hear you say it.”

After another thick swallow, I look up and mumble, “I won’t be in here again. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused. And…”

“And?” His eyebrows rise.

“Thanks for not calling the cops.” My voice drops to a raspy whisper.

The man grunts. “If it happens again, I won’t hesitate.” Lifting his chin, he gives me permission to leave.

Easing out around the counter, I close the gap between Grady and me. His handsome face is serious, and I wish I knew what he was thinking.

Is he disappointed? Or is he gonna yell at me and question me until I break?

Something sizzles through me, my defenses wanting to rise and lock into place.

If he yells at me, I’m gonna yell right back! I won’t let him hurt me. I won’t?—

My bravado dies out as quickly as it rises.

He bailed me out. He came when I called.