by Coralee June
“Not sure,” I replied with a noncommittal shrug. “She’s hot though.”
I took advantage of the distance and the dim lighting to stare openly at her. The all black dress she was wearing looked killer the way it was hugging her thighs. It also showed off her slender arms and new ink. I loved the tattoo; it made her look edgy. And the new nose ring wasn’t usually my thing, but it looked sexy as hell on her. I wondered if she was pierced anywhere else.
“Oh,” Royal replied. “Well, she seemed nice. I’m happy for them,” she replied before stopping a cocktail waitress to grab a drink.
I knew she was lying through her teeth, but didn’t call her on it. I was happy to have Royal back. We had that bond that only siblings had when they’d gone through fucked up situations together. We weren’t as close as I was with the Heirs, but we cared deeply about one another.
“Why did you come here with Luis anyway?” I asked.
“I didn’t come here with him. He gave me a ride. I needed to get out of the hotel, or I was going to lose my mind. Mom keeps crying, and Dad hasn’t called.”
Luis glanced over, catching sight of us, and I saw the look he gave Royal. That one hungry glance confirmed all of my suspicions. Luis had a thing for my sister. And clearly, by the way she bristled when he touched Rachel on the arm, my sister had a thing for him, too.
It was a little weird, to be honest. Royal was six years older than us. Aside from that...she was my sister. I didn’t like anyone sniffing around her—it brought out my brotherly instinct. When she was in high school, I used to try and ruin all her dates by embarrassing her before they left the house. She got pissed at me for it, but it was just my way of trying to protect her. But this was Luis, one of my best friends, so I tried to clamp down on all of that as I made my way forward.
Instead of dropping his hand from Rachel’s arm, Luis lifted it and grinned. “See Nomar’s new ink? Pretty badass, yeah?”
I gave it a cursory glance, even though what I really wanted to do was snatch her arm out of Luis’s hold and trace the tattoo first with my fingers, and then with my tongue. “It’s alright.”
Rachel bristled, but it had the desired effect, because she snatched her arm out of Luis’s hand. “Alright? And what ink do you have to compare it to Mr. Golden Boy?” she taunted. I’d missed her fighting. I’d missed seeing that fire in her eyes.
Without hesitation, I lifted my button up shirt, flashing her right there in the middle of the underground bar. Her cheeks went bright pink, but I smirked at the way her eyes locked on my abs. I pointed at the tattoo on my chest on the left side, and it took her a considerable amount of effort to drag her eyes from the dips in my muscles to my ink. “Got this when I was sixteen.”
Her blue eyes moved up to the spot where the simple black square was inked into my skin. It was exactly the same as Rogue’s, Luis’s, and Bonham’s. The square was simple, but it was a symbol. The four of us were a unit, and our bond went deeper than blood and would last longer than ink.
“I didn’t take you for a geometry man,” Rachel said with a cute little fucking smirk, but she didn’t fool me. She kept losing the battle of looking at me, and if we weren’t in the middle of a high end poker tournament, I would’ve shucked my shirt off altogether and really made her squirm. Instead, I dropped my shirt, letting the end hang loose over my slacks.
“What are you doing here, princess?” I asked, signaling for the waitress to come over. She stopped beside me, and I swiped a glass of champagne from her tray as she smiled. She was in her twenties and had flaming red hair, and I was fairly sure that if she were to bend over, her tits would fall right out of her white top.
Rachel and Royal both stared openly at her with unhappy twists of their mouths as Luis and I checked her out. He caught my eye, grinning, and I couldn’t help but smirk back. The waitress left, and I casually directed my attention back to Rachel, making sure to keep cool, despite the clawing desire to drag her out of here and kiss every available inch of skin on her body. I was so thankful that we’d gotten here in time, it felt like I could breathe again. Now, I just had to find some way to get her the fuck out of here and somewhere safe. But knowing her, she’d make things difficult.
Eddie wasn’t my only reason for wanting her out of here, though. Every damn guy in this place had his eye on Rachel and my sister, and it was making me want to punch something.
“I’m here to play, of course,” she replied while lifting her chin in pride.
“Daddy dearest send you on a cash mission?” I asked, keeping my voice low so only she could hear. He better fucking not have. Once again, I found myself getting pissed off at Rocco for not taking care of her better.
“I’m on a mission alright, just not that,” she replied cryptically before scanning the room. Something felt off about her, and I didn’t like it. “I’m actually going to look around. Y'all have fun. Thanks for keeping me company, Luis. I’ve got it from here.”
With those parting words, she pushed past me, brushing those perky tits against my chest in the process. I let out a hiss of air and just knew she was doing this to fuck with me. Once she was past, she threw a little smirk over her shoulder, and I knew there was no way in hell I was letting her get away that easy. I always had the last laugh.
I hung back and observed her for a minute, trying to figure out how I’d get her out of here without raising suspicions while Luis and Royal bickered beside me. They were saying something about redheads and fuckboys, but I was tuning them out.
Rachel was gliding across the room, looking calm as ever, but I noticed the way her eyes were peeled, searching for someone. Who could she possibly be looking for, especially here? Was that Forty-One dude meeting her again? I had the urge to punch the guy that had been spending so much time with her.
“Hey,” I called to Luis over my shoulder, keeping my eyes on Rachel. “Royal said Rachel got into some trouble with a dude? What happened?” I asked, breaking up whatever tizzy he was in with my sister. I didn’t want to look back and see them eye-fucking one another.
I also had to keep my questions general so as not to raise any suspicions with Royal. The last thing I needed was her knowing that the Macon Mob wanted all of us dead. She’d do something stupid like meet them head on. I’d have to catch up Luis on all the shit that went down later when she was out of ear shot. He needed to know Eddie threatened to make a move.
“It was that fucking biker dude, Bo-dick or whatever the fuck his name is. She brought him here, but he refused to come inside. Something is seriously off with him,” Luis explained. “He tried grabbing her, but she held her own. We intervened just in time.”
My eyes flickered to Rachel while I imagined stripping Beau of his skin. He grabbed her? Well adios, motherfucker. His days were numbered.
Rachel stopped at the bar to order what looked like sparkling water. She held the glass gracefully in her hand while spinning around on the stool, watching the elite men of the room as she sipped. She was definitely looking for someone, but who?
I dug in my pockets and pulled out a wad of cash—winnings from the races I went to earlier. Tossing it at Luis, I spoke in a low tone, “Get me some chips, will ya? I think I’m going to play tonight.” I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to drag her out of the bar, and despite Eddie’s threats, I was determined to figure out why she was here.
Luis spoke Spanish under his breath. “Ma won’t like this; she said there are some big players tonight.”
“Ask me if I give a fuck.”
I didn’t actually plan on playing. I just needed some more time to figure out what was going on in princess’s head. The second Eddie or any of his men showed up, I’d get her out of here whether she liked it or not. I just couldn’t stop the itching feeling that this was important, some missing piece I’d not noticed before. From day one, Rachel had me on my toes, and it was finally time to find some foundation.
Luis cursed and slipped away to go speak with the bouncer standing by the door. Royal
gave me a look and adjusted the shirt she was wearing. “Why do you always do this?” she asked me.
I turned away from Rachel to arch an eyebrow at my sister. “Do what?”
“This. Push the limits. Fuck with people. This isn’t Smith Academy where you rule the halls, Godfrey. You screw with the men playing in that tournament, and they’ll be gunning for you.”
“This isn’t my first time, sis.”
She shook her head at me. “It’s like you’re determined to beat him.”
“Beat who?”
Royal levelled me with a look. “Dad. It’s like you look at all these rich, influential assholes and see him. You run in these circles, fucking with their heads and winning their money because, in your mind, it’s what you want to do to dad.”
“Sounds like you’re analyzing me, but that would mean you actually opened a book when you did Doctors Without Borders, and we both know you mostly just wrote checks and paid a fuckboy to do all your work for you.”
She worked her jaw and sighed. “Don’t be an asshole like dad. You’re better than that,” she told me, her brown eyes stern even as she lifted a hand and fixed the collar of my shirt in a surprisingly nurturing gesture. “Don’t get yourself hurt, little brother.”
Without another word, she walked away, ignoring Luis completely as she headed for the elevator and disappeared inside. Conflicted, I looked back to the bar to find Rachel again, only to realize that she wasn’t there anymore. Feeling suddenly uneasy, I began to walk forward past the handful of pompous pricks milling around, measuring their dicks with bank accounts when a body stepped in front of me.
“Godfrey. You aren’t supposed to be here tonight. This was a closed tournament.”
I looked down at Mrs. Salvador and smiled. “I know a guy,” I said dryly.
Anger flashed in her brown eyes. Luis’s mother was once a beautiful woman, but drugs had ruined her. She had sallow skin, scabs on her arms, and her pupils were constricted. I hated her on principle because of all the shit she’d done to Luis.
“You can’t play. The buy-in was already settled,” she told me, her brown eyes darting to the side as she itched her arm.
I narrowed my eyes, feeling like something was off. “Yes, I can,” I replied with a frown.
“Godfrey,” she hissed before stepping closer to me. She grabbed my arm right above my elbow, and the only reason I didn’t shove her off was because she was Luis’s mother. “You need to leave. I’m not playing around here. These guys are bad news, and I don’t want you caught up in it.”
“Huh. That’s weird. Sounds strangely like you care. Are you high right now, Mrs. Salvador?”
I saw the sadness cause a dip in her expression. If she were high, it would have bounced off her features. She didn’t care about her image or what people thought of her. She cared about the high. I kinda felt like shit for being such an asshole to her. I let out an exhale and changed up my approach. “My girl is in the game. I need to stay so I can watch her.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. I just used the term my a little loosely. I owned Rachel Nomar; she just didn’t know it. Mrs. Salvador cursed before looking around the room. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But you don’t do your usual shit, Godfrey. These men don’t like to lose. There’s more at stake here than cash, okay?”
I gritted my teeth. I hated to lose too. But I hated the idea of anything happening to Rachel, more.
“Okay,” I said.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rachel
Of course Godfrey Taylor would show up. My nerves were already shot, thanks to Beau.
Dad was texting me nonstop, demanding I come home immediately, but I turned my phone on silent. Beau must have called him right away, but I was here already, and I couldn’t back out now. When I left, I knew he’d be in Atlanta all night working on a deal and figured he’d be driving back soon. I just needed one good photo and a name, then I’d get the hell out of here.
The game was set to start in five minutes, so I moved to a back corner to watch. “This wall taken?” a steel voice asked, and I squeezed my eyes shut as Godfrey settled in beside me, partially hidden by the drapery that hung from the ceiling. I could feel the masculine energy rolling off of him in waves. Fuck, why did he affect me so much?
The players were getting one last drink in before sitting in their seats, so I took a moment to run my fingers through my hair as I scanned the crowd. It was different tonight. There were more people, but there was also an edge of danger. There were men in suits doing shady business deals, some of them exchanging briefcases, all under the watch of Mrs. Salvador herself. She pretended to be calm and confident as she spoke to them, but I saw the way her hands shook. There was serious business going down.
I studied each of the men’s faces carefully. There. The man with the dark black sunglasses and a goatee. I recognized him. He was one of the Macon Mob. I was sure of it. My heart pounded, and I tried to study more of the faces of the men around him, but most of them had their backs to me, and they were on the other side of the dim room. I wiped my sweaty palms on my dress and tried to stay calm.
Beside me, Godfrey seemed to be scanning the crowd just as much as I was. “What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“Funny. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
I turned my body toward Godfrey, and like a magnet, he matched my movement. “I’ve been coming to run cash through,” I lied.
“Liar. If that were true, then why aren’t you playing?”
His icy eyes had me captured, and I couldn’t think of another lie fast enough. He smirked and let his finger run up the edge of my arm. I had to hold back a shiver.
“I’m waiting for someone,” I said, making his finger pause its ascent.
His jaw ticked. “Who?”
Instead of answering him, I just smirked and turned away. Irritated, he moved his hand away from me and leaned back against the wall again.
“It’s not safe for you to be here, you know,” he said.
“I know. But am I really safe anywhere or with anyone?”
I wanted him to tell me that yes, I was safe with him. For some reason, I would believe him. But instead, he turned away. Disappointment flooded me, but before I could challenge him, my attention moved to the doorway where a group of people had just walked in, and I saw him. Right there, in the flesh, was Pick.
He was in a designer suit and shiny shoes, his red hair slicked back and his fingers covered in rings. I looked up from the missing finger on his left hand and noticed his gold tooth glinting in the light. It was the first time I’d seen him since that last day, and I wasn’t surprised to see him with a toothpick hanging out of his mouth.
I subconsciously cowered behind Godfrey, trying to make myself as small as possible. With shaking fingers, I pulled out my phone and took several pictures of him, zooming in as close as I could get, trying to get as many details without flash. I instantly forwarded those to Forty-One. “Gotcha,” I said under my breath. This was going to have to be enough. I couldn’t stick around any longer, and I definitely couldn’t ask around for his name. I needed to get out of here. Now.
When I tried to move, Godfrey’s hand shot out and gripped my wrist. I stilled, and noticed that Pick had started moving through the crowd too. If Godfrey hadn’t stopped me right then, Pick would have seen me.
“I need to get you out of here right fucking now,” Godfrey said in a low voice. I looked up at him, frowning when I saw that he seemed just as scared as I was. His eyes had tightened and his entire body was tense. Did he recognize Pick?
“Why were you taking pictures of Eddie Lancaster?”
My eyes widened. “What did you call him?”
“Edward Lancaster,” Godfrey repeated warily. “The new leader of the Macon Mob.”
All the blood drained from my face, and I would have fallen if Godfrey hadn’t caught me around the waist. “I have to tell Forty-One. I have to tell him,” I said, but my words felt like cotton in
my mouth, and my mind wasn’t working right.
Godfrey leaned intently into my eyes, like the bottom of the unshed tears gathering there could somehow tell him all my secrets. Whatever he saw there made his gaze snap back to Eddie. I watched his face twist into a murderous rage. He knew. “That’s him? That’s—”
“Pick.” That one word took all the life out of me, and I slumped against the wall. I was caught in a web of panic. I hated how no matter how much stronger I got, that damn word was like a wave of terror. I could be strong, could seek my revenge, but it always came back to feeling vulnerable.
“Rachel? Fuck,” Godfrey hissed.
Godfrey looked around, trying to figure out what to do, but I was frozen, unable to move. He propped me against the wall, hidden from the room as much as possible. “Wait right fucking here. Don’t move. I’ll get us out.”
I barely heard him. All the toxic shit Pick did to me was wanting to rise up and swallow me whole. Why did I come here? Why did I think I could do this?
Godfrey slipped away, maybe to find Luis or someone else. I noticed Bonham had his back to me, in front of the Macon Mob, and the charming Heir was very purposely speaking to the chief of police. Pick’s—I mean, Eddie’s—men, were glaring at him.
But my panic and then my concentration on Bonham had made me lose track of Eddie himself. I peered around the corner, trying to get a view, but the place was even more crowded, and the games had begun, so spectators were hovering in tight circles around the high stakes tables.
Just then, Godfrey came back to collect me, but I couldn’t focus on him because I needed to know where Eddie went. “Godfrey, I don’t see him—”
A hand clamped over my mouth, and a gun was pressed to my spine. My eyes flew up, and I realized my mistake. It wasn’t Godfrey. It was Pick—Eddie.
“Me and you are gonna walk out of here real calm like, darlin’,” he said in my ear, and a whimper came out of me. His hand smelled the same. Like tobacco and sweat. His voice made my stomach roil, and the toothpick hanging from his mouth dug into my cheek. “If you struggle, I’ll shoot you in front of everyone here. Got it?”
