by Chelle Bliss
“Thanks.” She smiles softly. “Goodnight, Nix.”
I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Night, babe.”
“Night, cunt,” Coco calls out over her shoulder with a smirk on her face as she walks away.
Kennedy’s jaw ticks, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are still trained on me. Our glares are locked, and neither of us moves. My hands are at my sides, clenched into tight fists, and I’m hanging by a thread to keep my anger in check.
“You can go now,” I tell her after Coco’s bedroom door closes.
“Nix.” She steps forward and reaches out to me.
I put my hand out, stopping her. I don’t trust myself not to go off on her just yet. “Go.”
“I didn’t know,” she whispers, closing her eyes and shaking her head with a pained expression. “Please…”
I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. “You can walk out the door now or I’ll carry your ass out, but you’re not staying and I’m not talking.”
“I’ll wait until you calm down,” she says as she turns her back on me, facing the door.
I’m on her in an instant, slamming her body against the door. My front plastered to her back, pushing her chest against the door as I place my mouth next to her ear. “This is me being calm, Kennedy.” I reach in front of her and grab her mound. “Is this what you want? Did you come back for another taste?”
“No,” she says quickly, turning her head sideways to look into my eyes.
I slide my hand up her stomach and palm her breast. “’Cause I’ll fuck you. It’ll be an anger bang and nothing more.” I place my lips on the delicate skin right behind her ear and trail my tongue down her neck as she shivers. “Is that what you want? You want this cock inside you.”
“Let me go.” She pushes backward, grinding her ass into my erection.
I peel myself away from her and drop my hands to my sides. “Get the fuck out of here. Don’t come back unless I ask you to.”
She swallows hard and steps backward without looking at me. I think she’s going to say something, but she reaches for the door handle and leaves. My heart’s pumping so fast and the blood’s rushing through my body with such force that I can hear my own heartbeat. Fuck her. I refuse to let her play me again.
* * *
I didn’t sleep at all. Staying up all night isn’t unusual for me, but typically it is because of work. Most of my life I’ve steered clear of anything that could make me vulnerable. Even taking in Coco was a huge step and a leap of faith, but I thought I got away unscathed when years passed and nothing happened.
By the time the sun peeks over the city skyline, exhaustion has seeped into my bones. My only company during the night was my Cognac and the city I love. Settled into my favorite chair, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, I sipped Louis and punished myself for my stupidity.
“Did you sleep?” Coco asks, wrapping her arm around me as she leans over the back of the chair.
I place my hand on top of hers over my chest. “I didn’t hear you get up.”
“I doubt you’re processing much right now.”
Her head rests on my shoulder as I stroke the back of her hand. “I’m always processing,” I tell her, keeping my eyes trained on the city coming alive in front of us.
“Are we going to talk about what I did and how mad you are at me?”
My hand stills, and I turn my head to the side and look at her. “I’m not mad at you, Coco. It’s useless to stay mad. I love you too much for that. I’m mad at myself.”
She comes around the chair, settling on the floor in front of me. She places her hands in her lap and glances down at the floor. “Don’t beat yourself up. If I hadn’t been so stupid…”
“No,” I tell her, lifting her chin with my fingers to bring her eyes back to mine. “It would’ve happened eventually.”
“You’re too careful to get popped on your own.”
“Caroline.”
Her eyes widen when I use her formal name. I only ever pull it out when I’m being serious and want her full attention.
“I let her get too close. I let her in. Eventually, I would’ve fucked up and gotten too comfortable with her. I knew she was hiding something, but I didn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop myself.” I cup her face in my hands and soften my tone. “You’re not to blame for this. I knew what I was doing with her. The blame is entirely mine. I won’t discuss this again with you.”
Her eyes drop to the floor. “I may have opened my big mouth last night.”
I close my eyes and brace myself. “What did you do?”
She pulls my hands from her face and scoots back a few feet. “I may have told her your secret.” She winces.
I dig my fingertips into my forehead before dragging my hands down my face. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Coco.”
“It doesn’t?” Her face transforms before her mouth drops open. “You can’t mean that.”
“What did you tell her at this point that she didn’t already know?”
Her hands twist together in her lap as she stares down at them. “I told her what you do with the money.”
Kennedy’s words come back to me. “I didn’t know,” she said last night.
Now I understand them.
“It’s fine. I have nothing to hide from them now.”
“But…”
“No,” I tell her and lean back into the chair that’s almost molded to my body because I’ve been sitting here for too long. “No more talking about this. What’s done is done. Go get showered and head out. I’m going to go to bed.”
“Okay,” she whispers before pushing herself to her feet. “I love you, Nix.”
“Love you too, Coco.”
Coco’s confession to Kennedy changes nothing. There’s nowhere for us to go. She played me, and I fell for it. No matter what happens or what she learns—I’ve never been good at forgiving.
Once I settle into bed, I close my eyes. Sleep should take me quickly, but all I see is her.
The way she laughs.
The smell of her hair.
The glint of light off that fucking lip piercing that first caught my attention.
But most of all, I feel the betrayal in the most visceral way. Not even the sweetness of her pussy or the way I fell in love with her can overcome the treachery.
25
Kennedy
It’s been almost a month since Nix spoke to me. I keep waiting for the hollowness inside me to fade as time passes, but instead, it gets worse.
Every time I see him, I feel the loss of what we had all over again. The intensity that first drew me to him is stronger than ever. His eyes seem darker and his jaw seems tighter. Every time I lock eyes with him at the Loft, I spend those couple seconds searching to decipher his feelings. Does he miss me? Would he consider forgiving me if I asked again?
I’d ask as many times as it took if I felt even a flicker of hope, but I haven’t seen one yet. Nix is closed off, our time together apparently nothing but a regrettable mistake to him.
Hassan, on the other hand, is more into me than ever. He’s made me his sole focus at the Loft, other than business. I think he heard about Nix and me before things went bad, and he must not have liked it. I’m playing it as cool as I can, but he doesn’t make it easy.
I’m on his arm tonight, my black corset and platinum blond wig drawing stares as he leads me across the club. We walk through the kitchen, and as soon as we’re alone in the elevator, he grabs my hips and shoves me back against the wall.
“You can’t wear something like that in here and expect me to behave,” he says darkly. “I’ve had enough of your cock teasing.”
It’s all I can do to keep my hands at my sides. My head hit the elevator wall hard, and I want to dick-punch Hassan so bad right now.
“I’m done waiting, Eva. I’m fucking that self-righteous smirk off your face tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Warm a girl up first, Alex.”
He shakes his
head. “I don’t give a shit if you’re warm. Every man in this place wants you right now, and I’m the only one who can have you.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” He steps forward and wraps a hand around my throat.
My heart is pounding in my ears when the elevator doors slide open. The hardest part of my job is knowing how to defend myself, but holding back from doing it to keep my cover. My wide eyes are locked on Hassan, trying to find a balance between defiance and compliance. It’s a fine line.
The guards on the other side of the elevator doors don’t even blink when they see Hassan with his hand around my throat. He’s not squeezing, but he’s applying enough pressure to remind me who’s boss.
Asshole.
He leans forward and kisses me then, his taste of cigars and alcohol making me queasy. Then he releases my throat, adjusts his tie, and steps out of the elevator.
“Evening, gentlemen,” he says to the guards.
“Mr. Hassan,” one of them responds. They both nod at him and ignore me.
I hate this place. Everything about it revolts me. The greed and callousness I see at the Loft every night still astound me. Weapons deals are made with no regard for the lives that will be lost. A hitman has been coming down here for a couple weeks, and the basement drug lords have been booking jobs with him.
As much as I’m disgusted by it, seeing these people in action drives me to execute my job perfectly. I don’t miss a beat. Ending this place is my goal, and that’s always at the front of my mind.
The hardest thing I’ve ever done was coming back down here the first time after the blowout with Nix. Knowing how furious he was, I had to trust him with my life. If he had exposed me as a Greenlight agent, I never would have come back up from that trip down here, unless my dead body was stuffed into a suitcase or a duffel bag.
But as angry as he was, I knew Nix wouldn’t want me dead. I’d lobbied the Greenlight director hard to let me continue at the Loft. He’d told me I was crazy for not taking a new location assignment.
I didn’t take this job to quit when it gets tough, though. I want to see this mission through more than ever now, not just for my uncle Jeff, but also for Nix. Now that I know these criminals and thugs are nothing more than a means to an end for him, too, I’m driven to show him I’m more than just a pretty face.
He’ll never trust me again, but if I can at least earn his respect, that’s something.
The basement is busy tonight. Drinks are being poured, and deals are being discussed. Wolf sits on a leather sofa, focused on the screen of his open laptop, and several others are looking on intently. Servers circulate with trays of food, the smell of beef and spices filling the air.
Grayson is bent over a table snorting a line of coke, and Hassan forgets about everything else as soon as he sees him. He leaves my side and I let out a breath, taking things in around me without making it obvious I’m doing it.
I’m more on guard tonight because of what’s in the tiny black purse I’m carrying. Rae assigned me to plant a bug down here tonight so Greenlight can monitor everything that’s said. The Greenlight tech people did a bang-up job of concealing the bug in the end of a tube of lipstick, but I’m nervous anyway. This is the first time I’ve brought anything down here that could give away who I really am.
I head for the bar to order a drink, still taking in my surroundings, when a glance in a corner of the room stops me in my tracks.
Nix. His hand is wrapped around a glass snifter, which probably has Cognac in it. The hard bitterness I see in his eyes tugs at me. I want him to work out his anger on my body. Merciless sex would release his tension and soften him toward me.
We just stare at each other for a few seconds, his eyes still holding my full attention as he shifts in his seat. After more than three weeks of silence, I’d settle for just a conversation with him. We could talk about anything—how pissed he is at me, how his bimbo protégé is doing…Hell, I’d settle for a conversation about the weather just so I could hear his voice.
“Let’s go.” Hassan is next to me, grabbing my arm and pulling me.
I dig my feet into the floor to stop, and he jerks on my arm as he tries to keep walking.
“Let go of me,” I say, glaring at him.
“The games are over,” he says darkly. “I already told you that.”
He wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me so hard I feel a strain in my shoulder. No one even gives us a second glance as he drags me across the room.
Shit. I don’t want to have sex with him. It’s a last resort for me, only if I have to do it to stay alive.
At least, it was before Nix. But now, the thought of Hassan inside me makes my stomach churn. That part of me belongs to Nix, whether he wants it or not.
I hate that he’s watching this thing with Hassan go down, and worse, I hate that he’s not doing anything about it. I could knock Hassan on his ass if I wanted to, but I’d blow my cover. The old Nix would have Hassan begging for mercy right now.
The ominous feeling I have gets stronger as Hassan leads me to the hallway where the vault is located. I don’t know why he’d want to take me in there for sex when there are suites upstairs with beds and couches.
“No,” I say, grabbing a door handle with my free hand to stop him from pulling me.
He just pulls harder, my wrist burning from his iron grip on it.
“I’m not some plaything, Alex. Let go of me, or I’ll scream.”
At that, he laughs. We’re halfway down the hallway now, and I’m starting to feel desperate. I plant one foot and swing my other leg up, kicking the arm he’s dragging me with. He grunts, and I get in another good kick to his stomach.
“Bitch,” he mutters.
My wrist is throbbing painfully when I manage to pull it free. I turn, planning to run like hell, but there are two men in dark suits blocking my path.
Grayson’s security guards. I’m really fucked.
Hassan grabs me around the waist and carries me toward the vault, my kicking and screaming seeming to give him some sort of sick satisfaction. One of the guards keys in a code and opens the door.
My hair is blocking my vision as Hassan tosses me to the floor. The concrete surface knocks the wind out of me, and it takes me a couple seconds to catch my breath and move my hair aside.
“You’re in for a fight,” I say, still breathless. “If you think I’m gonna let you rape me—”
I stop talking when I see Grayson looking at me from his seat on a wooden bench, where he’s giving me the same calculating look I’m used to from Hassan.
I close my eyes, the things they’re probably going to do to me making my blood run cold. Though I’ve known any day at the Loft could turn bad in a heartbeat, it feels brutal in this moment.
Still hoping for a miracle, I turn to Hassan. Surely, he’s not this ruthless. But his gaze is nothing but ice and stone.
“Time’s up, Eva,” he says darkly. “Or should I say Kennedy?”
Oh, fuck. Suddenly, I realize I’m not here to be gang-raped. And it’s hard to be relieved when I’m facing a beating and probable murder instead. I’ll go down with honor, though, never confessing the truth to them. The first thing I was taught to do in case of captivity is plant doubt in my captor’s head.
“You’ve made a mistake,” I say to Hassan. “I’m not—”
One of Grayson’s security guys comes in and closes the heavy vault door behind him.
“Take her purse, jewelry, and shoes,” Grayson says to him. “Go through everything.”
They’ll find the bug in the lipstick. How will I talk my way out of that?
“You lying whore,” Hassan says, bending down until we’re face-to-face. “Did you think you could outsmart me?”
“It was you who approached me, Hassan. Not the other way around.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing. Or should I say, your employer did. Sending in a hot piece of ass to entrap me.” He runs a hand over his short, dark b
eard and sighs heavily. “Who sent you here?”
“No one.”
He backhands my face so hard I fall back to the floor from my sitting position. I taste blood.
“I won’t stop until you tell me,” he says in a level tone. “Actually, playing rough with a senator’s daughter sounds rather intriguing. There are so many things I could do with you.”
I sit back up, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth to clear away the blood.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“One of Grayson’s clients recognized you. Asked him what the fuck Stan Preston’s daughter was doing in the club. It’s a good question, don’t you think?”
“And your sister’s married to Jude Titan,” Grayson says, his lips curling into an evil smile as I look at him. “We could fetch a nice price for you, if we were so inclined.” He meets Hassan’s eyes across the room. “We’re not inclined, though, are we, Alex?”
“Traitors deserve slow, painful deaths.”
I shrug and tilt my chin up. “Sounds better than sex with you, asshole.”
These two won’t see me cry. No matter what, I’ll go down in a way I’m proud of. I think of Rae and how badass she’d be right now. My parents, who I hope will know I died fighting the worst of humanity. Uncle Jeff, who had a moment like this himself.
And Nix. I think of Nix, who doesn’t realize I’m never getting out of this room alive.
Or does he? Bile rises up my throat as I wonder if he was the one who gave me up to Grayson. Would he really do that?
Hassan shoves me to the floor and kicks me in the face, the blow leaving me dizzy and disoriented. I crawl away from him, my self-preservation instinct kicking in.
Is there a way I can fight both of them off? I’m willing to die trying.
I drag myself up to my feet and take a deep breath, but when I look at Grayson, he’s pointing a handgun at me.
“Don’t have the balls to fight a girl?” I ask with a satisfied smirk.
His expression twists into a scowl as he sets the gun down, gets up, and walks over to me. He unbuttons his shirt sleeves, and I realize shit’s about to get real.
