“Don’t ‘hmmm’ me, Grip.” I slide away from his warm body, putting some space between us. “It’s like being in the Twilight Zone for me to come home and find you with my mother, so cut the crap. What did she want? Was it about me going to New York?”
I don’t wait for his response.
“Dammit.” I drop my bag by the couch and flop down, eyes trained on the ceiling. “Why can’t she just let me live my life?”
Grip slides his hands into the pockets of the loose lounge pants that hint at the sleek musculature of his legs. He settles on the couch beside me and captures my hand, kissing the knuckles.
“She wasn’t here about New York.” His words emerge reluctant, low, sober.
I glance at his sharply hewn profile, noting the muscle ticking in his jaw.
“What’s going on?”
His chest rises and falls with the deep breath he draws and expels before beginning.
“It’s Parker.”
I only have to hear that bastard’s name to feel Parker’s fingers probing roughly between my legs again. I chew on my bottom lip and can almost feel the sting of him biting me there, of him making me bleed. I ration a slow breath through my nose, steadying myself as much for Grip’s peace of mind as my own pride. I don’t want him to worry, though I know him well enough to see concern in his dark eyes already.
“What about him?” I drop my head to Grip’s shoulder and wait for his response.
After a beat of silence, he speaks. “He’s getting out.”
My body tenses involuntarily and I turn my head to search his face.
“When?”
He gathers both my hands in his and turns slightly on the couch so he can see me, pushing my hair back and cupping my neck.
“Next week or so.” Grip watches me closely. “We knew this would happen, babe. He’s got too much money and too many corrupt people in his pocket to hold him for long.”
I swallow, my muscles tautened with tension.
“I guess I hoped for a little more time to figure out a plan.”
“You ain’t figuring out nothing.” One brow lifts over Grip’s icy glance. “Son of a bitch is handled.”
“Handled?” A frown gathers on my face. “Handled how?”
“Apparently, his father has his own plans. He needs Parker free to make some merger happen. Shipping his ass off to Russia.”
“Russia? Merger?” I shake my head, but all the pieces still don’t make sense. “What the hell are you tal
king about?”
“Ever heard of SiberTech?”
“Yeah.” I nod, mentally rehearsing what I know, trying to make the pieces fit. “Natasha Sukolov’s family owns SiberTech. She went to high school with us in New York, but their interests still lie mainly in Russia. What does SiberTech have to do with Parker getting out?”
“They’re using a marriage between Parker and Natasha to seal the deal.” Grip shrugs. “His dad found the right strings, pulled them, got Parker off.”
My fingers clench in my lap, anxiety twisting them. What if Parker comes after Grip again? My mind is already seeking out solutions, loopholes, anything to insulate Grip from whatever Parker might pull.
“Hey.” Grip covers my balled fists with one big hand. “He’s not touching you.”
My eyes fly to meet his. God, we’re a pair. We’d both do stupid shit to protect each other. I hadn’t thought of myself, only him, and he’s only thinking of me.
“We’ve been in constant communication with Parker’s mom. She’s pretty badass,” Grip says, admiration filtering into his expression. “With her help, we got it all figured out.”