I'd practically been fucking her by default. I'd never led her on, but that wasn’t how she saw it.
“Now that you've lost the excess baggage, how about you and me have a little fun before we go?” She ran one long fingernail down my arm.
“Not interested.” I stuck my hands in my pockets. “Tell me what you're doing here.”
A scowl twisted her lips, and she crossed her arms. Some people might've thought she was standing that way because she was angry, but I knew she was trying to get me to look at her breasts. Why else would she have her coat unzipped in the middle of January?
“Like I said, we have–”
I cut her off. “Who is it? And you better not have made it up.”
“Booker.”
Shit.
I'd suspected that was whom she meant when she hadn't said his name, but I'd still been hoping this was all some sort of game she was playing.
“Where is he?”
“Follow me.”
I wanted to grab her and make her tell me where we were going, but it didn't really matter. If Booker North wanted to see me, and he'd sent Cleo to get me, then I had to assume that he wanted her to escort me to him. If he'd told her to just to give me the location, and she was being ignorant, it was his problem, not mine. And Cleo knew better than to piss Booker off, which meant she was most likely following exactly what he'd told her to do.
Booker was in his mid-thirties and was one of the scariest sons of bitches I'd ever come across. Georgie liked to run his mouth and talk big, but he didn't do shit without Booker's permission. Booker not only owned DeMarco's & Sons, but he was the one to kill old man DeMarco and the two sons.
At least, that was the rumor. No one really knew what actually happened to them. Less than two days after the old man refused to sell Booker the shop, the family disappeared, and Booker was the new owner. Case closed. No one spoke of it again.
Georgie was the one who'd gotten me a job at the shop when I was sixteen, and I'd suspected that many of the other guys there were in the same gang as him. Since I'd never been a member, I hadn't realized that someone new had taken over a few years ago until I showed up at work to find the DeMarco’s gone. There'd been a change in leadership, and now Georgie was number two to the new leader. They'd pretty much left me alone since I kept my mouth shut, but I'd always been aware that, someday, that would probably change.
I'd met Booker only once, and it wasn't an experience I was eager to repeat, but knowing that he'd asked to see me and that he'd sent Cleo instead of Georgie, was a good indication that this wouldn’t lead anywhere good.
I knew the gang did a lot of unsavory shit, but the shop was only involved in selling stolen car and motorcycle parts. Well, that and some money laundering. I had no doubt that some of the guys I worked with had decent rap sheets and probably violent offenses, but none of them measured up against what Booker was rumored to be into.
By the time we got to the subway, I was trying not to shiver and was mentally cursing Cleo for not telling me I'd need my coat. When we got off near the shop, I was pissed as well as cold. If she'd just told me that we were coming here, I could've gotten my coat and followed her.
I didn't say anything though. I might not have gotten the best grades in school, but I was no idiot. I knew when it was time to keep my mouth shut and my eyes open, and this was definitely one of those times.
We went inside, Cleo still leading the way. When we passed the break room, she spoke, “Remember how many times we fucked in there? It used to turn me on, knowing the guys were out here, listening.”
I remembered. I also remembered how she'd leave the door unlocked and talk about how she hoped Georgie or someone would come in and ask to join us even after I told her I wasn't into threesomes, especially not with another guy.
Yet another reason why I didn't feel guilty for breaking things off with her. She liked to act like the two of us had been in some serious relationship, but I knew she was fucking other guys at the same time, trying to make me jealous. When she'd thrown a tire iron at one of my one-night stands a year ago, that had been the last straw. I told her I didn't want to see her at all.
Since she'd gone to jail for assault a week later, that hadn't been an issue, but I'd heard she'd gotten out a couple weeks ago and wondered if she'd come back around. I hadn't figured she’d be playing messenger for Booker though.
We stopped at the office, and she knocked.
“Come in.” Booker's gravelly voice came from the other side of the door.
She pushed open the door and smirked at me before walking away. Apparently, she wasn't part of this conversation, which meant that Booker had either sent her to piss me off, or she'd volunteered for the same reason. Either way, I was on edge when I walked into the office and saw Booker leaning against the shitty metal desk.
Almost six and a half feet tall, bald, and with more tattoos showing than I had on my entire body, he was the type of person people were scared they'd run into in New York. And he didn't just look scary. He backed it up.
“Dax.”
“Booker.” I kept my expression neutral, knowing that Booker didn't respect ass-kissers, but he would also beat the shit out of anyone he thought was being disrespectful. It wasn't a fun line to walk.
“Sit.” He jerked his chin toward the only chair in the room.
I didn't want to sit, especially since I had no idea why Booker wanted to talk to me, but I wasn't stupid enough to disobey. I made myself look comfortable, but every muscle was tense. I didn’t pay much attention in school, but one of the things from biology that I'd always remembered had been the whole fight or flight response, and I felt it now. Adrenaline coursed through me, and it took every ounce of self-control I had to keep myself from moving. Fighting or running, I didn't know which, but I did know that I didn't want to be doing nothing.
“Georgie tells me you do good work,” Booker began. “And he says you know how to keep your mouth shut.”
I gave a short nod, my fingers drumming against my thigh.
“He also says you know some of the other stuff that goes on here.”
“I do.” The words came out even despite the knots working through my stomach.
“But you've never asked to get in on a job.” He made it a statement rather than a question, then went on without waiting for me to acknowledge it. “And as long as it didn't cause problems, I told Georgie to let you do your own thing.”
I almost frowned as I tried to figure out what I possibly could've done that was causing problems, but I managed to keep my face blank and waited to hear what Booker had to say next.
“I’m expanding my business,” he continued. “And that means you'll be stepping up.”
I didn't like the sound of that, especially since it didn’t seem like he was asking.
“I've got a job planned, and we're one man short.” He pointed a finger at me. “You're that man.”
Fuck my life.
Chapter Six
Bryne
Two damn days.
Two silent, aggravating, damn days.
I'd been fine on Sunday. Well, mostly fine.
I'd been a little annoyed that Dax hadn't at least checked in to make sure that I made it home safe. I didn't think that was too much to ask from the man who told me to stay inside the bar until my car arrived because he didn't want me waiting outside alone. But I'd reminded myself more than once that just because Dax was polite enough to look out for my well-being while we were out together, he had no reason to check on me when he knew it was one of my uncle's drivers taking me home.
Then Monday had passed without a word. No call, no text, nothing to let me know that he was okay. I told myself that I had a right to be worried since he hadn't looked pleased that Cleo had facilitated an unplanned meeting with someone he’d dropped everything – including me – to get to. For all I knew, this mysterious mutual friend was someone dangerous. Between the warning Gavin had given me about Dax, and the men at the shop, it wasn
't unthinkable that Dax had been walking into a less than ideal situation.
When I woke up this morning and my phone showed the same thing that I'd seen the previous two days, concern and annoyance became irritation bordering on anger. Some of that anger was directed at myself. I'd told myself multiple times that Dax and I weren't dating, that we were just friends, tentative ones at that, but I had no experience with any sort of sex, let alone the casual kind. I'd always thought that I'd be able to do the whole friends with benefits kind of thing because I was good at keeping my emotions in check.
I'd just never encountered anyone like Dax before.
I dressed almost automatically, choosing casual jeans and a high-necked sweater. I'd worn something similar to rehearsal yesterday, thankful that the weather was still cold enough that no one looked twice at my shirt choice. Only I knew the real reason behind my selection had more to do with the still-fading mark than it did with the temperature.
“Stupid son of a bitch,” I muttered.
I'd been fairly consistent in the curses I’d sent Dax's way over the past forty-eight hours. There'd been a fair few of them. At some point, I wanted to unload all of them to his face.
I double-checked my hair to make sure it was all contained before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. Gavin and Carrie had left early yesterday, so I'd eaten alone. This morning, however, they were both in the kitchen. Their backs were to me as I entered, and I stopped a moment to watch the two of them together.
Carrie was about five months along, her slightly rounded stomach a bit more pronounced than usual as she leaned against Gavin. She had one hand on his back, her head resting on his arm. I could hear the low murmur of their voices but couldn't make out any words. I didn't need, or even want, to know what they were saying. It was clearly a private moment between the two of them, and something inside me gave a sharp twist.
I was only nineteen, and I had picked a career that required a lot of focus and work. Intellectually, I knew that casual hook-ups were the smartest way to go. If I was already in a serious relationship, that would've been one thing, but trying to start something wasn't a good idea, and I knew it. I had plenty of time for that later, and if anyone had asked me about marriage and a family, my immediate response would've been to say that I wasn't thinking about either of those things and wouldn’t be for years.
Except in that moment, seeing Carrie and Gavin together, the longing that went through me was almost painful. I didn't understand it...or maybe I didn't want to.
I cleared my throat as I moved farther into the kitchen, and Carrie shifted to look back at me and smile.
“Good morning. How did rehearsal go yesterday?”
“Good,” I said as I poured myself some coffee.
Carrie and Gavin had both been asleep when I'd gotten back Saturday night, and then they'd been out with Dena, Leslie, and their significant others yesterday, so this was the first opportunity for questioning. I was just glad that Carrie hadn't started off with a question about Dax.
I decided to try to keep the conversation away from the one person I didn't even want to be thinking about. “Todd's meeting me here so we can go in together.”
“I like him,” Carrie said as she moved away from Gavin to take a plate of scrambled eggs over to the table. “The two of you certainly get along well.”
“We do,” I agreed. “To be honest, I was a little worried about what it would be like, going into auditions here, working with other people who were trying to do this professionally.” I topped off my coffee and took the plate Gavin held out.
“I thought you did this sort of thing back in DC,” Gavin said as he joined us.
“I did, but it wasn't the same.” I kept my voice bright, wanting to keep the conversation on track. I could feel Carrie's eyes on me, and I knew if I slipped the slightest bit, she'd want to know why. “Most of the people I knew in the theater circuit were either only doing it for fun, or they were already established in local circles. I knew when I came here, it would be a lot more competitive.”
“And it's not?” Gavin asked.
“It is,” I said. “But this cast is great. No divas. Everyone's all about coming together to make Collide the best off-Broadway production possible.”
The best part about talking with them about Collide was that I didn’t have to force myself to sound like I was enjoying it, or make things up. I really did love the cast, and they really were great people. Todd was my favorite, but everyone else was amazing too.
“Have you got to meet Todd's boyfriend yet?” Carrie asked.
I shook my head and grabbed two more bites before I answered. “Hiram doesn't get back from his trip until this weekend.”
A few minutes of silence fell over us as we all focused on our breakfast. I kept my head down, eyes on my plate. I needed my mind clear, my attention undivided. Our first read-through had been yesterday, and we were actually getting on the stage today. I couldn't let myself get distracted by anything.
“Are you planning on doing anything after rehearsal?”
Carrie's casual tone didn't fool me, so I played dumb. “Todd and I might go out to eat afterwards, but we won't be out late. It will be a busy week.”
“You're not planning on–”
Before she could get the question out, the buzzing of the intercom saved me.
“Todd's here.” I carried my things over to the dishwasher, then grabbed my bag and coat.
“Bryne.”
I turned back as Carrie said my name.
“You know you can come to me with anything, right?”
I nodded and gave her my best “I’m absolutely terrific” smile, avoided looking at Gavin as I walked out. I pulled on my coat even though I knew I had a ride waiting. I greeted Todd with a smile and a hug, then slid into the car. He was already talking about a conversation he'd had with Hiram last night.
“...so then Hiram tells me that one of his ex's called him to ask if they could work on a project together. Of course, Hiram said no, but then he said he felt like he had to call and tell me right away. When I asked why, he said that he didn't want to hide anything from me...”
Todd's voice faded into the background as the image of Dax and Cleo made its way to the front of my mind. Neither one of them had said that they'd dated, but I wasn't an idiot. It didn't matter that Dax had said he didn't want a relationship. Cleo hadn't been a one-night stand. Not if they had a “mutual friend.”
And that was when it hit me.
There was one possibility that I hadn't considered. Cleo could have been a one-night stand, and she could have an excellent reason for telling me to stay away from Dax. Their mutual friend might not have been a friend at all. I might've slept with Dax more than once, but I didn't know him. Not really. It was entirely possible that this friend was a child.
His child.
I let out a slow breath and blinked back the tears that burned my eyes. I needed to pull myself together and not worry about things that I didn't have the ability to deal with right now. And that pretty much summed up Dax entirely.
I forced a smile and turned to Todd. “Would you mind running through act one, scene three with me? I'm not sure I have the timing right.”
And with that, I put Dax out of my mind and focused on what I'd come here to do.
Chapter Seven
Dax
Two fucking days.
Two mother-fucking, long-ass days.
I hadn't seen or talked to Bryne since she'd walked back into the club without me Saturday night, and it'd been two of the longest days of my life. I'd spent Sunday at home with my mom, then worked a twelve-hour day yesterday. Today, I was scheduled to work a normal eight-hour shift instead of another twelve, and I was starting to wish I'd asked for the longer shift.
I couldn't stop thinking about Bryne.
And it wasn't just thinking about the sex either, though there was plenty of that, including a long shower last night where I'd let myself relive every naked moment we'd had t
ogether. I'd come harder jacking off to her than I had with any other actual woman I'd ever been with.
I would've tried telling myself that it was because she was so hot or because she was new, but I'd spent too much time thinking about her in non-sexual ways to be able to sell that lie.
Wondering what she was doing. What she was thinking about. If she thought Cleo and I were together. How I could reassure her that I wasn't interested in Cleo. How things were going with her play rehearsal.
And that, of course, made me think about Todd. While I hadn't gotten details of what happened between the characters he and Bryne played, I knew they were the leads, and there was some romance. Which meant there was probably at least one kiss between them.
That particular thought was driving me crazy at the moment. Bryne told me that Todd was gay, but a little voice in the back of my mind kept whispering that Todd could've lied. He wouldn't have been the first man to tell a woman he was gay in an attempt to get in her pants. The whole “you could turn me” thing worked pretty well for some guys.
“Something wrong, Dax?”
My head jerked up to find everyone glaring at me. “No, I'm good. Keep going.”
The dirty look Georgie threw my way said he didn't believe a word of it, but he wasn't going to call me on it in front of the other guys. He may have been Booker's second in command, but he knew better than to try to push me around. It was always a toss up whether I'd ignore him or push back.
And he didn't want me pushing back.
“Like I was saying, we're going to be moving the product through the bikes we get in from the people Booker's got lined up.”
I resisted the urge to reach over and smack the back of Georgie's head like I had when we were younger. He needed to stop talking like that, or I couldn't be held responsible for what I did. Product. I almost snorted a laugh. Booker wanted to start moving coke, so I wanted to be discreet, but I knew Georgie. He'd be running his mouth all over the place about it, trying to sound like a badass. He was talking like this because he thought it made him sound big.