Inked Playboy (Cocky Suits Chicago Book 5)

by Alex Wolf

  I sniff. Fucking men!

  They’re so goddamn clueless and stupid about everything.

  I look around at my empty apartment and think about my empty office. I take a few deep breaths.

  It’ll be fine. It’ll take a few days, or weeks, but I’ll be over this. I pull up my email on my laptop, anything to distract me from this shit. As soon as I see no emails, it all hits me right in the chest again.

  Earlier, I sent an email to the marketing lady at Curve, telling her something came up and I’d be unable to work for them once their expansion is completed.

  No replies. Nothing. I know he got that email, and he’s still ignoring me. Too big of a pussy to come talk. I guess he’s not the man I thought he was.

  Fuck it. He doesn’t deserve me, and he’s not going to have me. Ever.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Cole Miller

  I walk up to the small stage and flashes go off all around me, lights from photographers and video cameras. The last few weeks have been hell, but they should’ve been perfect. Somehow, I made it through, but there’s still a void in my chest, an empty box that was full for a few of the best months of my life.

  This expansion of my business has consumed all my time, and I’ve been in meetings nonstop. When I wasn’t dealing with that, I met with a therapist to talk about my incident with my mom.

  It was a bunch of big words and mumbo jumbo, but essentially, she said I’d trained myself since I was a kid to get by socially, appear level-headed and able to interact with people, even appear normal. But subconsciously, somewhere in my brain I was storing hate and anger from being abandoned, and I never dealt with it properly.

  When I came home and found the safe, it was pretty much a perfect storm. I had a couple drinks and flipped out. It triggered something in my brain, an electrical response that caused all that manifested rage to come out. I snapped and punched holes in the wall.

  She called it Intermittent Explosive Disorder. She thinks it may have actually been exacerbated by my fighting in MMA, or MMA was a subconscious way for me to deal with it, take these aggressions out and I didn’t even know that’s what I was doing. She said it can be linked to an early childhood trauma.

  I don’t need medication or anything, but she suggested I come back every week to discuss things. The methods I can use to cope with this are learning to recognize triggers, breathing and meditation, and cognitive reframing. I need to think differently and modify my behaviors for a more positive outcome. Not gonna lie, I feel like such a bitch, talking about feelings and stuff, but I feel so much better when I leave her office after I do it. I can just get everything out, and leave it there, not let it sit and fester in my brain. I didn’t realize how much I was holding inside all the time.

  I asked her what to do about Harlow. If she thinks I could snap like that again and put her in danger. She told me no, that it’s highly unlikely, but it still scares the shit out of me. The way I’m trained, as a fighter, I could’ve killed someone if they’d been around when I did that. I’m a walking weapon, not a normal human being.

  I take a seat at a table up on the stage, and questions start flying in from everywhere.

  I only have one thing on my mind, though.

  Harlow Collins.

  I wonder what she’s doing, what she’s thinking about. Has she moved on already? I made her cry and she never cries. I’m broken inside and no amount of money or fame is going to fix that. It can never fill this void. I feel so empty inside without her, like nothing matters.

  I motion for everyone to quiet down and launch into my prepared statements.

  “So, Curve is growing.” I put on the best smile I’m capable of. “We’re expanding in the seventy-something markets we’re currently in, doubling the amount of gyms in each one. It’s not only about more gyms; location is key. We’re being more strategic with our growth. Marcy Jenkins, one of my new operating managers, is leading a project to target lower-income neighborhoods, where health risks are enormous. We’ll be lowering the fees, subsidizing those gyms with expanded product opportunities, which brings me to my next announcement.” I remove a cover to showcase a small billboard full of Curve health supplements with some prominent female celebrities of all shapes, colors, and sizes we’ve signed endorsement contracts with. “We’re launching a new line of health products.”

  More camera flashes and questions from the crowd.

  I cut them off. “These will be available in store and online via our website and several major distributors.”

  This is it. This should be one of those high moments in my life. One firm just bought in for twenty-five percent of my company at seven hundred and fifty million dollars. Another paid two fifty for twenty percent of the new supplement line.

  My net worth tripled overnight, and I feel like the poorest man on the planet.

  I hold up a hand. “That’s all I have to say at this time, but there will be a press run and you can contact my public relations department for interview requests. Thank you.”

  I stand up and I stare through the crowd. The flashes are blinding, but I spot something at the back of the room.

  What the hell?

  Harlow is standing there. I have to rub my eyes for a second to make sure I’m not seeing things. She’s trying as hard as she can to smile, but I can tell it’s torture for her. She sees my eyes fixed on her and she quickly turns and walks away. I snap out of my daze and take off down the steps, but I’m mauled by the crowd. Microphones and cameras are everywhere, but I only have one thing on my mind as I try to fight through them.

  “Harlow!” I scream her name, but my voice is drowned out. It’s like I’m in a dream where you’re trying to run away, but your feet won’t move. You’re trying to scream, but nothing will come out.

  The reporters all block where I want to go and I strain against them, but I can’t move, I can’t fucking breathe.

  Security has to run out and fight them off of me.

  By the time I finally break through, she’s not there. I sprint out the front of the building and stare around, looking every direction possible when I see her car pull onto the main road and speed off.

  “Fuck!” I reach up and pull my hair with both hands.

  She’s gone.

  I can’t believe she came. Even after everything I put her through, she still wanted to be there for my big moment. She was still smiling and happy for me, and I’ve been nothing but a complete asshole, too afraid to do anything about it. Too afraid I might hurt her, and in the process, probably hurt her even more.

  I just want everything to go away. I don’t want my company. I don’t want anything else.

  I just want—her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Cole Miller

  I walk into The Gage later that night, to meet up with Dex and the other brothers. It’s supposed to be a celebration, but I have nothing to celebrate. I have nothing I care about anymore. The one thing I want is gone, and I doubt she’d give me the time of day if I tried to talk to her.

  I sit down and Jimmy, the bartender, walks over.

  “Water.”

  His eyes widen.

  “Come on, man. We’re celebrating. Have a drink.” Dex nudges me with his elbow.

  I shake my head. “I’m good.” I don’t want any booze again, ever. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I get drunk. I used to fear nothing, and now I have anxiety about everything. It’s a miserable existence, and I know it’s all because of what’s happened between Harlow and me.

  Decker, Deacon, and Donavan walk over and have a seat around us. They try to talk business, their own relationships, and all I do is stare at my watch, counting the minutes until I can leave. I don’t want to be around anyone right now. I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet, but I can’t help how I feel.

  Finally, Dex says, “Have you talked to her?”

  He doesn’t even have to say her name, just mention her in general and it’s like a knife plunges through my chest. I
shake my head. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  My eyes roll over to his.

  “Right. Well, if there’s one thing I know about my little cousin, she doesn’t bullshit.”

  “You’re really not helping.”

  “You didn’t let me finish.” He pauses and sighs. “She’s fair. She knows all the stuff you had going on. She’s not some fucking—robot. She’s still human.”

  I take a drink of my water because my throat is drier than a damn desert just thinking about her. “I fucked it up. Bad. There’s just no way.”

  Decker leans in. “I know you could kick the shit out of me if you wanted, but fuck.” He leans back and shakes his head, glaring at me. “You’re a man. Act like one. Since when do you do all this pussy feeling sorry for yourself shit?”

  Dex bows up to him. “Hey, what the fuck, Decker?”

  Decker shakes his head. “No, he needs to hear it. Harlow is like a little sister to us and she doesn’t deserve you sitting around like this on your ass, not doing shit. She’s hurting right now, and you’re being a bitch.”

  My face heats up. I’m not angry about him saying it to me. I’m angry because he’s right. It pisses me off even more. I stand up and get in front of him.

  He shrinks back a little.

  “I know, okay?” I look around at all of them. “Falling for her was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I knew it would hurt you guys. I knew it was bad, and it might ruin things. And I want to march my ass to her house and tell her we’re not fucking around anymore, we’re going to be together and that’s how it is, but I just can’t.”

  “I never thought I’d say this while discussing my baby cousin, but why the fuck not?” Dex glares right at me.

  I shake my head and tell all of them everything that happened, the punching holes in the wall and shit, the blackout.

  “I’m scared. That I’ll hurt her. Physically hurt her. Don’t you fucking get that? I need to stay the fuck away from everyone until I get this figured out. Until I’m sure I’m fixed.”

  Their eyes are all big.

  Dex finally looks at me. “Bro, listen to me. You love Harlow. You would never hurt her, ever.” He pokes me in the chest. “You know that, in here. I know you know it. We all love her more than just about anything, but if she was going to fall for anyone, as much shit as we gave you, we were all glad it was you. Because we know she couldn’t be in better hands when it comes to her safety.”

  I glance around at all of them, and it feels like I’m having another panic attack. It’s like the entire bar is imploding on top of me. Because I want to believe them so fucking bad. Finally, I just shrug. “I don’t know what the hell to do. I don’t even know how to talk to her right now, or if she’ll even talk to me.”

  Dex looks at me with a shit-eating grin. “Well, luckily for you, we know her better than anyone, and I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to getting women back.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Huh?”

  Decker shakes his head. “He’s usually full of shit, but yeah, he’s not lying.”

  Deacon nods.

  Donavan says, “Saved my ass with Paisley.”

  I shrug because what can it hurt to try? It’s better than sitting around on my ass feeling sorry for myself. At least this way I’ll know I gave it my all. And Dex is right, I know in my heart I would never hurt Harlow physically. I just know. I couldn’t. She’s everything to me. “What do you have in mind?”

  “A motherfucking masterpiece.” He turns to his brothers. “Deacon, I need to borrow your daughter.”

  Deacon’s eyes bug out. “Wait, what the fuck?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Harlow Collins

  I pull down Michigan Avenue, late for a meeting with a new client. All I’ve done is work my ass off since the Cole Miller fiasco. I forced myself to go to Cole’s press conference. I don’t know why I went.

  Yeah, you do.

  I know he’s going through a lot of shit, but I just wanted to be there, even if he couldn’t see me, to send some good vibes his way. Maybe I wanted to just feel like I was a part of him one more time too, be there for one of his big moments. I want him to be successful and happy more than anything in the world, even if that happiness doesn’t include me. I still love him so much, even though he never came after me. Even though he quit on us, pushed me away.

  I really do hope he gets everything worked out. I hadn’t planned on him seeing me. I probably just made things worse for him. God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve just stayed away. I just wanted to see him again. Just wanted to be in the same room as him one more time.

  Traffic is a bitch around lunch hour, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I’m not a friendly driver, and road rage is no stranger to me.

  “Move your fucking ass!” I lay on the horn, even though I know the people in front of me have nowhere to go, and I know it’s made worse because I’m taking out all my aggression from the Cole situation on them.

  It feels really good to just yell once in a while, though.

  This is why I work by myself in my little office, and I leave early enough in the morning to beat traffic and stay later than everyone else. It’s so I don’t have to deal with this bullshit.

  Finally, I move up and see what’s going on. There are orange cones everywhere, and there’s a man in an orange jacket directing traffic. He looks scared shitless, like he doesn’t have a damn clue what he’s doing.

  Fucking perfect.

  He waves each car by, one by one, slowly, like he’s looking at every driver. Eventually, it’s my turn, and I have no patience for this asshole. He’s waved everyone else straight through, then peers into my car and his eyes turn into two big, white orbs.

  What the fuck?

  I scowl right at him.

  He steps in front of my car and motions me off into Millennium Park, toward a parking lot.

  What the fuck? I rev my engine at him and throw up my hand. There’s no way out of the park and I don’t have time for this asshole. I’m not driving down to a dead end, circling around, only to be right back in the same fucking traffic jam. Hell no.

  His eyes widen even more, and he holds up one hand and waves me with his little light down the drive.

  “Ugh! Fuck you.” I whip over and drive down the way he’s motioning me.

  Son of a bitch. I’ll kill someone.

  As I pass by, I notice he’s wearing a suit underneath the orange jacket and looks familiar as hell, like I’ve seen him before. It has to be a coincidence, but he looks just like one of Dexter’s associates he’s always bossing around. It can’t be him, though. Why the fuck would he be directing traffic?

  In my rearview mirror, I see him motioning everyone else straight through.

  “I’m going to fuck you up when I get out of this parking lot, you fucking shit dick.” I grit my teeth.

  There’s another man up ahead, blocking the road with a little traffic wand thing, just like the last guy.

  I’m about to lose it on these assholes.

  He motions me into a parking lot. I pull in there, because I need a minute to just breathe. I don’t need to go to jail for assaulting someone and have to call Decker to bail me out. I turn in and immediately throw on my brakes.

  What the hell is going on here?

  I sit there in my car, staring in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not while I’m almost in a fit of rage. Please, God, no.

  Calm down, Harlow. Just calm down and take a deep breath.

  I try, and it doesn’t work. I throw open the door and head right at him.

  Cole is standing there, in the very suit I took him shopping for, like I’m going to take one look at it and forgive him. The one he looks amazingly hot in, but I don’t care. He’s made me late for an appointment, and he’s about a month late on this bullshit. I’m going to put my foot right in his ass for making me deal with this.

  Just as I’m rushing up to let him have it, Dexter c
omes out of nowhere and hands Cole something.

  I point a finger right at him. “You mother—” I stop my sentence, just as Dexter moves out of the way.

  Cole is holding Delaney in his arms.

  My face has to be ten shades of red and my cheeks are puffed out, wanting to explode on him, but these assholes brought Delaney into it. I stare down at her pudgy little face and I just want to hold her and cuddle her, then I stare back up at Cole and want to rip his head off.

  This is low.

  “Where are they? Where’d you go, Dex? Come out here and face me, you little—”

  Delaney’s eyes go wide when I raise my voice, and I stop myself again. I don’t want to be a bad aunt in front of her. This is the lowest of low tactics. I’m going to rip all their heads off when she’s gone, not just Cole’s.

  I turn around to head back to my car.

  “Harlow, wait.”

  I whip around and I’m about to lose it. All the anger leaves and all the hurt returns. The hurt I’ve bottled up the past month as best as I could. The tears are coming again, and I just got them to stop last week. Why is he doing this to me? Why is he making me relive this pain over and over again?

  He sees my face and motions for Dex to come get the baby. After he hands Delaney off, he runs over to me.

  “Why can’t you just let me be?” The words come out on a sob, and I feel like shit for letting him see me like this, letting him see me so vulnerable and weak. My whole body trembles, and I just want to curl up somewhere and die. You can only pretend to act tough on the outside for so long, only endure so much, and I’ve hit my limit.

  He tries to hug me, and I back up a step.

  “Just get away. Please? Just leave me alone, Cole.” I look away from him because seeing him is just too damn painful.

  “Harlow, I’m sorry.”

  I cover my mouth and shake my head. “No, it’s too late for that. I told you.” I turn and look at him.