“Better than my mom, I’m guessing.”
He was too professional to give anything away in his expression. Instead, he slid his shades back into place and synced my phone to the car’s Bluetooth to start my playlist. Then he pulled away from the curb.
Reminded of his thoughtfulness, I said, “Hey. I’m sorry I took it out on you. You were doing a job and you didn’t deserve to get bitched at for it.”
“You’re not just a job, Miss Tramell.”
I was silent for a bit, absorbing that. Clancy and I had a distant, polite association. We saw each other quite a bit because he was responsible for getting me to and from my Krav Maga classes in Brooklyn. But I’d never really thought about him having any sort of personal stake in my safety, although it made sense. Clancy was a guy who took pride in his work.
“It wasn’t just that one thing, though,” I clarified. “A lot of stuff happened before you and Stanton ever came into the picture.”
“Apology accepted.”
The brusque reply was so like him that it made me smile.
Settling more comfortably into the seat, I looked out the window at the city I’d adopted and loved passionately. On the sidewalk beside me, strangers stood shoulder to shoulder over a tiny counter, eating individual slices of pizza. As close as they were, they were distant, each displaying a New Yorker’s ability to be an island in a crashing tide of people. Pedestrians flowed past them in both directions, avoiding a man pushing religious flyers and the tiny dog at his feet.
The vitality of the city had a frenetic pulse that made time seem to move faster here than anywhere else. It was such a contrast to the lazy sensuality of Southern California, where my dad lived and I’d gone to school. New York was a dominatrix on the prowl, cracking a mean whip and tantalizing with every vice.
My purse vibrated against my hip and I reached into it for my phone. A quick glance at the screen told me it was my dad. Saturdays were our weekly catch-up days and I always looked forward to our chats, but I was almost inclined to let the call go to voice mail until I was in a better frame of mind. I was too aggravated with my mom, and my dad had already been overly concerned about me since he’d left New York after his last visit.
He’d been with me when the detectives had come to my apartment to tell me Nathan was in New York. They’d dropped that bomb before they revealed that Nathan had been murdered, and I hadn’t been able to hide my fear at the thought of him being so close. My dad had been after me about my violent reaction ever since.
“Hey,” I answered, mostly because I didn’t want to be at odds with both my parents at the same time. “How are you?”
“Missing you,” he replied in the deep, confident voice I loved. My dad was the most perfect man I knew—darkly handsome, self-assured, smart, and rock solid. “How ’bout you?”
“I can’t complain too much.”
“Okay, complain just a little. I’m all ears.”
I laughed softly. “Mom’s just driving me a little batty.”
“What’d she do now?” he asked, with a note of warm indulgence in his voice.
“She’s been sticking her nose in my business.”
“Ah. Sometimes we parents do that when we’re worried about our babies.”
“You’ve never done that,” I pointed out.
“I haven’t done it yet,” he qualified. “That doesn’t mean I won’t, if I’m worried enough. I just hope I could convince you to forgive me.”
“Well, I’m on my way to Mom’s now. Let’s see how convincing she can be. It would help if she’d admit she’s wrong.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Ha! Right?” I sighed. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure. Is everything all right, sweetheart?”
I closed my eyes. Cop instincts plus daddy instincts meant I rarely got anything by Victor Reyes. “Yep. It’s just that I’m almost to Mom’s now. I’ll let you know how it goes. Oh, and my boss might be getting engaged. Anyway, I have stuff to tell you.”
“I may have to stop by the station in the morning, but you can reach me on my cell no matter what. I love you.”
I felt a sudden surge of homesickness. As much as I loved New York and my new life, I missed my dad a lot. “I love you, too, Daddy. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Killing the call, I looked for my wristwatch, and its absence reminded me of the confrontation ahead. I was upset with my mother about the past, but was most concerned with the future. She’d hovered over me for so long because of Nathan, I wasn’t sure she knew any other way to behave.
“Hey.” I leaned forward, needing to clarify something that was bothering me. “That day when me, Mom, and Megumi were walking back to the Crossfire and Mom freaked out … Did you guys see Nathan?”
“Yes.”
“He’d been there before and got his ass beat by Gideon Cross. Why would he go back?”
He glanced at me through the mirror. “My guess? To be seen. Once he made himself known, he kept the pressure up. Likely, he expected to frighten you and managed to scare Mrs. Stanton instead. Effective in either case.”
“And no one told me,” I said quietly. “I can’t get over that.”
“He wanted you frightened. No one wanted to give him that satisfaction.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of it that way.
“My big regret,” he went on, “is not keeping an eye on Cary. I miscalculated, and he paid the price.”
Gideon hadn’t seen Nathan’s attack on Cary coming, either. And God knew I felt guilty about it, too—my friendship was what had put Cary in danger to begin with.
But I was really touched that Clancy cared. I could hear it in his gruff voice. He was right; I wasn’t just a job to him. He was a good man who gave his all to everything he did. Which made me wonder: How much did he have left over for the other things in his life?
“Do you have a girlfriend, Clancy?”
“I’m married.”
I felt like an ass for not knowing that. What was she like, the woman married to such a hard, somber man? A man who wore a jacket year-round to hide the sidearm he was never without. Did he soften for her and show her tenderness? Was he fierce about protecting her? Would he kill for her?
“How far would you go to keep her safe?” I asked him.
We slowed at a light and he turned his head to look at me. “How far wouldn’t I go?”
9
“WHAT WAS WRONG with that one?” Megumi asked, watching the guy in question walk away. “He had dimples.”
I rolled my eyes and polished off my vodka and cranberry. Primal, the fourth stop on our club-hopping list, was pumping. The line to get in wrapped around the block and the guitar-heavy tracks suited the club’s name, the music pounding through the darkened space with a primitive, seductive beat. The décor was an eclectic mix of brushed metals and dark woods, with the multihued lighting creating animal-print silhouettes.
It should’ve been too much, but like everything Gideon, it skirted the edge of decadent excess without falling over it. The atmosphere was one of hedonistic abandon and it did crazy things to my alcohol-fueled libido. I couldn’t sit still, my feet tapping restlessly on the rungs of my chair.
Megumi’s roommate, Lacey, groaned at the ceiling, her dark blond hair arranged in a disheveled updo I admired. “Why don’t you flirt with him?”
“I might,” Megumi said, looking flushed, bright-eyed, and very hot in a slinky gold halter dress. “Maybe he’ll commit.”
“What do you want out of commitment?” Shawna asked, nursing a drink as fiery red as her hair. “Monogamy?”
“Monogamy is overrated.” Lacey slid off her bar stool at our tallboy table and wriggled her butt, the rhinestones on her jeans glittering in the semidarkness of the club.
“No, it’s not.” Megumi pouted. “I happen to like monogamy.”
“Is Michael sleeping with other women?” I asked, leaning forward so I didn’t have to shout.
I had to lean back right away
to make room for the waitress, who brought another round and cleared the previous one away. The club’s uniform of black stiletto boots and hot pink strapless minidresses stood out in the crowd, making it easy to know who to flag. It was also really sexy—as was the staff wearing them. Had Gideon had any hand in picking the outfit? And if so, had anyone modeled it for him?
“I don’t know.” Megumi picked up her new drink and sucked at her straw with a sad face. “I’m afraid to ask.”
Grabbing one of the four shot glasses in the center of the table and a lime wedge, I shouted, “Let’s do shots and dance!”
“Fuck yeah!” Shawna tossed back her shot of Patrón without waiting for the rest of us, then shoved a lime in her mouth. Dropping the juiceless wedge into her empty glass, she shot us all a look. “Hurry up, laggers.”
I went next, shuddering as the tequila washed away the tang of cranberry. Lacey and Megumi went together, toasting each other with a loud “Kanpai!” before downing theirs.
We hit the dance floor en masse, Shawna leading the way in her electric blue dress that was damn near as bright under the black lights as the club uniform. We were swallowed into the mass of writhing dancers, quickly finding ourselves pressed between steamy male bodies.
I let go, giving myself over to the grinding beat of the music and the sultry atmosphere of the rocking club. Lifting my hands in the air, I swayed, releasing the lingering tension from the long, pointless afternoon with my mother. At some point, I’d lost my trust in her. As much as she promised that things would be different without Nathan, I found I couldn’t believe her. She’d crossed the line too many times.
“You’re beautiful,” someone yelled by my ear.
I looked over my shoulder at the dark-haired guy curved against my back. “Thanks!”
It was a lie, of course. My hair clung to my sweat-damp temples and neck in a sticky tangle. I didn’t care. The music raged on, songs sliding into each other.
I reveled in the utter sensuality of the venue and the shameless drive for casual sex that everyone seemed to exude. I was pressed between a couple—the girlfriend at my back and her boyfriend at my front—when I spotted someone I knew. He must have seen me first, because he was already working his way toward me.
“Martin!” I yelled, breaking out of my bump-and-grind sandwich. In the past, I’d only crossed paths with Stanton’s nephew during the holidays. We’d met up once since I moved to New York, but I hoped we would eventually see each other more.
“Eva, hi!” He caught me up in a hug, then pulled back to check me out. “You look fantastic. How are you?”
“Let’s get a drink!” I shouted, feeling too parched to hold a conversation at the decibel level required in the crowd.
Grabbing my hand, he led me out of the crush and I pointed to my table. The moment we sat down, the waitress was there with another vodka and cranberry.
It’d been that way all night, although I’d noted that my drinks were getting darker as the hours progressed, a sure sign that the vodka-to-cranberry ratio was slowly becoming more cranberry than not. I knew that was deliberate and was suitably impressed by Gideon’s ability to carry his instructions from club to club. Since no one was stopping me from supplementing with shots, I didn’t mind too much.
“So,” I began, taking a welcome sip before rolling the icy-cold tumbler across my forehead. “How have you been?”
“Great.” He grinned, looking quite handsome in a camel-hued V-neck T-shirt and black jeans. His dark hair wasn’t nearly the length of Gideon’s, but it fell attractively across his forehead, framing eyes that I knew were green although no one would be able to tell in the club’s lighting. “How’s the ad biz treating you?”
“I love my job!”
He laughed at my enthusiasm. “If only we could all say that.”
“I thought you liked working with Stanton.”
“I do. Like the money, too. Can’t say I love the job, though.”
The waitress brought his scotch on the rocks, and we clinked glasses.
“Who are you here with?” I asked him.
“A couple friends”—he looked around—“who are lost in the jungle. You?”
“Same.” I caught Lacey’s eye on the dance floor and she gave me two thumbs up. “Are you seeing anyone, Martin?”
His smile widened. “No.”
“You like blondes?”
“Are you hitting on me?”
“Not quite.” I raised my brows at Lacey and jerked my head toward Martin. She looked surprised for a minute, then grinned and rushed over.
I introduced them and felt pretty good about the way they hit it off. Martin was always fun and charming, and Lacey was vivacious and attractive in a unique way—more charismatic than beautiful.
Megumi made her way back over and we did another round of shots before Martin asked Lacey to dance.
“You got any other hot guys in your pocket?” Megumi asked, as the couple melted away.
I was wishing I had my smartphone in my pocket. “You’re miserable, girl.”
She looked at me for a long minute. Then her lips twisted. “I’m drunk.”
“That, too. Want another shot?”
“Why not?”
We did a shot each, polishing them off just as Shawna came back with Lacey, Martin, and his two friends, Kurt and Andre. Kurt was gorgeous, with sandy brown hair, square jaw, and cocky smile. Andre was cute, too, with a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes and shoulder-length dreadlocks. He focused on Megumi, which cheered her right up.
Our expanded group was roaring with laughter in no time.
“And when Kurt came back from the bathroom,” Martin finished his story, “he sacked the whole restaurant.”
Andre and Martin started howling. Kurt threw limes at them.
“What does that mean?” I asked, smiling even though I didn’t get the punch line.
“It’s when you leave your sac hanging out of your fly,” Andre explained. “At first people can’t figure out what it is they’re seeing, then they try to figure out if you just somehow don’t know your nads are swinging in the breeze. No one says a word.”
“No shit?” Shawna nearly fell off her chair.
We got so rowdy, our waitress asked us to tone it down—with a smile. I caught her by the elbow before she walked away. “Is there a phone I can use?”
“Just ask one of the bartenders,” she said. “Tell them Dennis—he’s the manager—okayed it and they’ll hook you up.”
“Thanks.” I slid off my seat as she moved on to another table. I had no idea who Dennis was, but I’d just been going with the flow all night, knowing Gideon would’ve set up everything flawlessly. “Anyone up for water?” I asked the group.
I got booed and pelted with wadded-up napkins. Laughing, I went to the bar and waited for an opening to ask for Pellegrino and the phone. I dialed Gideon’s cell number, since it was the one I had memorized. I figured it was safe since I was calling from a public place he owned.
“Cross,” he answered briskly.
“Hi, ace.” I leaned into the bar and covered my other ear with my hand. “I’m drunk-dialing you.”
“I can tell.” His voice changed for me, slowed and grew warm. It captivated me even over the music. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yes, but I miss you. Did you take your vitamins?”
He had a smile in his voice when he asked, “Are you horny, angel?”
“It’s your fault! This club is like Viagra. I’m hot and sweaty and dripping in pheromones. And I’ve been a bad girl, you know. Dancing like I’m single.”
“Bad girls get punished.”
“Maybe I should be really bad, then. Make the punishment worth it.”
He growled. “Come home and be bad with me.”
The thought of him at home, ready for me, made me even more eager for him. “I’m stuck here ’til the girls are done, which looks to be a while.”
“I can come to you. Within twenty minutes, y
ou could have my cock inside you. Do you want that?”
I glanced around the club, my entire body vibrating with the hard-driving music. Imagining him here, fucking me in this no-holds-barred place, made me squirm with anticipation. “Yes. I want that.”
“Do you see the skywalk?”
Turning around, I looked up and saw the suspended walkway hugging the walls. Dancers dry-fucked to the music from twenty feet above the dance floor. “Yes.”
“There’s a section where it wraps around a mirrored corner. I’ll meet you there. Be ready, Eva,” he ordered. “I want your cunt naked and wet when I find you.”
I shivered at the familiar command, knowing it meant he’d be rough and impatient. Just what I wanted. “I’m wearing a—”
“Angel, a crowd of millions couldn’t hide you from me. I found you once. I’ll always find you.”
Longing seared my veins. “Hurry.”
Reaching over to replace the receiver on the business side of the bar, I grabbed my mineral water and drank until the bottle was empty. Then I headed to the bathroom, where I waited in line forever in order to get ready for Gideon. I was giddy with booze and excitement, so thrilled that my boyfriend—arguably one of the busiest men in the world—would drop everything to … service me.
I licked my lips, shifting on my feet.
I hurried through the ladies’ room to a stall, ditching my panties before hitting the sink and mirror to freshen up with a damp napkin. Most of my makeup had melted off, leaving me with smudged eyes and cheeks reddened by heat and exertion. My hair was a mess, both wildly mussed and wet around my face.
Oddly, I didn’t look half bad. I looked sexual and ready.
Lacey was in line and I stopped by her as I inched my way through the crowded bathroom threshold.
“Having fun?” I asked her.
“Yeah!” She grinned. “Thanks for introducing me to your cousin.”
I didn’t bother to correct her. “You’re welcome. Can I ask you something? About Michael?”
Shrugging, she said, “Go for it.”
“You went out with him first. What didn’t you like about him?”