Collide Book 2 - Page 40

“He knew and didn’t say anything?” Colton questioned, sitting at the table. “And let me make myself very clear. I’m your brother. I’d never hide anything like that from you. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. But he’s like a brother to me,” Gavin murmured, flicking his eyes down to his watch. No doubt his driver had already picked Emily up from work. He needed to leave to make it across town on time to meet her. “I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I plan on making sure I do soon. I’ll deal with him then.”

“I see.” Colton nodded. “Besides, I’m sure dealing with Dillon is on the top of your priority list.” Colton rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles, a wicked smirk tipping his mouth. “I’m slightly older and not as buff as you are, but if you want some help, I’d be more than willing to go a few rounds with the p.r.i.c.k.”

Gavin hesitated a moment before turning toward the door. “Look, I have to get out of here. I’m meeting Emily for lunch in forty-five minutes.”

“Wait,” Colton blurted, standing to his feet. “How come you just gave me that look? Don’t tell me you’re not going to toss the a.s.shole around a little for what he did to her. I know you better than you think. What’s up?”

Sighing, Gavin stopped shy of the door and turned around. “Emily made me promise I wouldn’t go after him.”

At this, Colton drew his brows together and chuckled. “Gavin, you’re dealing with a woman who also made you promise not to buy her a car because she thinks they’re unnecessary in Manhattan.”

Gavin couldn’t help grinning. “I know, right? Who gives a s.h.i.+t that it’s Manhattan. She has no idea, but I already ordered her one.”

“Exactly.” Colton laughed and sat back down. Features serious again, he tented his hands beneath his chin. “Now go order up a side of kicking some Dillon a.s.s. What Emily doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Colton paused, his stare unwavering from Gavin’s. “But what you’re sitting on will kill you.”

Colton stated those last three words with an air of simplicity, but the truth in them shot through the room. Battling to stay true to his promise to Emily, no matter how badly he could taste Dillon’s blood, Gavin simply walked out of the office.

No matter if it was the middle of early morning traffic, midday traffic, or late afternoon rush hour, traffic in Manhattan blew. f.u.c.king. Blew. Gavin was starting to think Emily’s reasoning for not wanting a car wasn’t so bad after all. But try as he might, he was addicted to driving. Sure, he could easily have his driver cart him around in his limo like the rich p.r.i.c.k some perceived him to be, but Gavin couldn’t let go of the sense of control he had behind the wheel. He loved it. Windows rolled up and stereo blaring, cl.u.s.ter-f.u.c.k of Manhattan traffic or not, it was one of the few stolen moments he had to himself that actually calmed his nerves and levied his thoughts. However, as Gavin maneuvered through the tidal wave of vehicles clogging the streets, calm wasn’t something he was feeling. No. Not even close. His head was jarred. His thoughts became more f.u.c.ked with each pa.s.sing second. Though Chevelle’s “The Red” was bursting from the speakers, the only thing Gavin could hear was Colton’s words reverberating through his head.

“But what you’re sitting on will kill you.”

Sitting on it would kill Gavin. This he knew. He also knew if he stayed dormant, it would turn him into a bitter man. Although the thought was something Gavin couldn’t register now, he feared he would come to resent Emily as the years dwindled on. With the café he was supposed to meet Emily at clear in his line of sight, Gavin pictured her sitting at a table waiting for him. Only a few hundred feet and he’d be there. Another few minutes and he’d be able to keep his promise to her. At least for today.

“But what you’re sitting on will kill you.”

“Kill you…

Kill you…

Kill...

You…”

“f.u.c.k it,” Gavin bit out. Before his brain had a chance to grasp what his body was doing, from the farthest left lane, Gavin cut the wheel hard right when the light turned green. He couldn’t hear or see them, but a symphony of horns and display of middle fingers from p.i.s.sed off New York drivers were directed at him. His new destination? Dillon’s office in the financial district. Punching through the gears, Gavin managed to plow through the busy city streets without killing anyone. That didn’t mean he didn’t come close. His blood surged as he blew through a red light crossing over Church Street, nearly clipping the back of an open double-decker bus filled with tourists. Another burst of horns went off. Again, Gavin couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t see pedestrians jumping onto curbs to get out of the way of his speeding Ferrari FF because his vision went blood red.

Blood. f.u.c.king. Red.

With one hand gripping the wheel, he used the other to yank the tie from around his neck. As he pulled into the garage below Dillon’s building, he shrugged out of his suit jacket, paid the parking fee, and shot into a parking spot. After swinging open the door and slamming it closed, Gavin made his way to the elevator and hit the b.u.t.ton to Dillon’s floor.

Gavin was no longer fighting a f.u.c.ked up battle in his head. He rolled his sleeves up and sank deep into an eerie sea of calm. He was feeding his body what it craved, what it needed, and because of this, he felt high. Drugged. As he rode up to the fifteenth floor, specks and shadows of Emily’s face curled through his thoughts. His heart sank as he glanced at his watch. The thought of her sitting at the café waiting for him, completely unaware of what he was about to do, bothered him. However, he couldn’t stop.