WIN THE GAME

by Allison, Ketley

  “Afraid of this thing rolling into the plane?” I asked, smirking and slipping on my shoes.

  “You’d be surprised,” was all he said before he unclipped his seatbelt and stepped out.

  Touché. Theo would have more past experience with private jet snafus than I would.

  I unfurled out of the vehicle and made moves to grab my bag from the back, but the man who had previously been in front of the plane, was now in front of me.

  “Jeez, you move fast,” I said. He offered a small up-tick of one side of his mouth in return.

  “Allow me, Miss,” he said while reaching for my bag. “Feel free to join your escort and board.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” I muttered as I stared over his bent form to the imposing machine.

  I wasn’t a nervous flyer—not exactly, anyway. But ever since my sister’s death, ridiculous ways of my life ending seemed to become more prevalent in my mind. Forget being shot at over the green felt of a poker game because of a cheating scandal, that was too tame. Try being in a plane, spearing through clouds and turbulence and then getting struck by lightning, only to have parachuted out and grabbed the one harness that didn’t click properly before flattening like a pancake as soon as I smacked into the ground (and then bounced).

  That was more my mindfuck.

  “Are you coming?”

  Theo’s question brought me back to sanity, and I clip-clipped over to him like a lame mare. Along with the hoodie, I should have definitely fished my sneakers out, but Lurch had them now.

  Theo held out his hand, but I avoided it and climbed the stairs myself. The feel of his skin was better left in memories.

  When I tottered on the second last step, I held my palm up to prevent Theo from assisting. I would do this, even if I acquired infected blisters along the way.

  Upon entering the aircraft, I shouldn’t have been blown away, but of course I was. How a metal tube could imitate a luxury hotel penthouse suite was beyond me, but this did. There was a lot of buttery toffee leather, thick beige carpeting, and some kind of bronze marbling along the side. Four seats of the same buttery color were directly in front, two facing each other on each side, with space to sandwich me in the middle of two people in each. Behind them were two long futons—or, in ritzy speak, lounges, that could fold down and convert into twin beds. Continuing the fancy language, a door to a lavatory was in the back in the same coppery marble as the interior framework.

  “Take a seat wherever you like,” Theo said, coming up behind me. The beginning whir of the engines vibrated beneath my feet.

  Theo’s Lurch entered after him and a flight attendant appeared from somewhere between me and the cockpit.

  “Welcome aboard. My name is Andrea. Can I get you a drink?” she said. Her cheeks were luminous, her auburn hair even more so. The uniform she wore was tight-fighting, navy, and short, and the way her dewy lashes glossed over me and locked on Theo made me wonder if she was a conquest or if she had already yielded.

  “Sure. Tonic, please, with lime,” I said.

  What did it matter, anyway? Theo’s sex-life wasn’t my concern. His brother, and making him pay for his sins, did.

  I pretended like I wasn’t serving myself a reminder and took a seat facing the cockpit. Theo sat directly in front of me, and zero surprise showed on my face.

  “Are we expecting other guests?” I asked as Andrea busied herself in the galley at the back of the plane.

  “Just us.”

  I inspected everywhere except Theo himself. “You must be back in your family’s good graces, to be able to use this plane.”

  Theo shrugged. “The FBI aren’t the only people Trace did a runner on.”

  This time, surprise couldn’t be hidden. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  He raised his brows. “That depends. What do you think I’m saying?”

  Goddamned poker players. “That Trace isn’t talking to his own family. His father, specifically.”

  “Then you’d be right.”

  When Theo didn’t offer anything further, I said, “Is that why you’re doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Look buddy, I’m here on this plane with you because you went out of your way to find me in order to tell me to go away. Except you secretly wanted me to come with you, since out there on the docks, you had your own plan despite me thinking I was in control. Now I’m here, and you know what I’m after.” I was interrupted when Andrea bent between us and set down our drinks, but continued as soon as her airy perfume departed, “So, being obtuse may work with others, but not with me. Kai’s no longer beside me, there’s no further FBI or police involvement, so be straight and explain what your true motives are.”

  Whew. Through my pounding heart, I reached for my drink and took a long, fueling gulp. That was the longest I’d ever looked straight into his eyes and didn’t flinch away from the hurt.

  “That’s only fair,” he said, then bent forward. “But let me be clear. You’re with me because you’re a liability.”

  His words hit me. Though I didn’t expect niceties from him, Theo’s perception was still affecting.

  “If you kept running games on your own, you were going to be killed. There was already talk in the wrong circles about taking care of a woman who was making too much money.”

  “And you had to assume that was me.”

  “There aren’t many women who do what you do.”

  “So what? Because I’m good at poker, I have to die?”

  “No.” Theo tipped his bourbon to his lips. “But you have to admit you were losing your subtlety. Getting careless. And that’s when they’d swoop in.”

  My cheeks went hot. “I take severe offense—”

  “You offered your body in exchange for a bet.”

  Everything went quiet. “That was premeditated,” I nearly whispered. “And under control.”

  “You don’t think it was going too far?”

  “Not that I have to explain it to you,” I said through my teeth, “But Neri was heavily researched, all my actions carefully implemented and timed. He wasn’t going to hurt me.”

  “But you were willing to do whatever it took.”

  I detected the undercurrent of meaning, and my lips parted. “Do you really think I was willing to have sex with him?”

  In an instant, Theo went from staring at me to directing his attention out the window, I knew. Oh my God.

  “You wanted to find my brother that badly,” he said.

  I caught the immediate defense before the sound left my throat. I could have stood over him, pointed my finger, and shouted, how dare you judge me? You don’t have the first sense of how I’m feeling or what it takes to be a solitary woman in this dangerous industry, or how many times I’ve been scared senseless. Nor do you even want to think on why my relations with Neri would bother your ego so damned much. But, the part of me that wanted to harm him, to exploit his flaws and protect my weaknesses, won out. So instead, I countered with, “So what if I did?”

  He lazily turned his attention back to me, whatever thoughts whirring in his mind drawing down the shutters in his expression. “And what is it they say about best laid plans?”

  “Is this why you wanted me here? To criticize my strategies?”

  “If you consider prostituting yourself to be a strategy.”

  There it was. That flare of jealousy—I hoped, dreamed, denied—was there, cracking through his concrete. The question was whether I was willing to exploit the flaw and spread it further.

  “Well, it got your attention, meaning I’m as close as I’ve ever come, so I guess it worked.”

  “You were brash before. Now you’ve claimed idiocy.”

  I opened my mouth to snap at him, but the pilot had come out and was aiming for our seats. I clamped my mouth shut so hard it had sound, but I certainly didn’t stop glaring at Theo, even while the pilot introduced himself as Steve and said that the skies to London looked good and we shouldn’t
be more than eight, eight and a half hours, tops.

  “Don’t pretend like you can get into my head the way you did before,” I seethed as soon as Captain Steve left. “I’ve been more successful than you and Kai combined—I’m sorry, London?” My back went stiff. “Why are we going to London?”

  Theo ignored all my statements, but he stayed steady on me. So much so that it was unsettling and alluring all at once. “Admit that you were looking for me,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Confess, Scarlet.”

  “I wanted nothing to do with you the instant you left.”

  “So you haven’t thought of me? Wished for me?” His tone went low. Deep and velvety despite the plane gearing up and rolling across the tarmac, readying for takeoff.

  “The only thing I’ve hoped for is your suffering.”

  I slammed back into my seat, using my arms as a barricade for my heart. His words couldn’t wound me there. The meanings behind them wouldn’t slip through. The kiss wouldn’t be the dagger to wrench open my ribs.

  “Then good for you. Part of your dreams came true.”

  My attention skittered to his scar, then just as quickly found somewhere else. “Don’t make me feel sorry for you.”

  “Pity me?” For once, Theo sounded surprised. No, that wasn’t the proper description. Deeply aggravated. Possessing enough ire to sound more emotional than in the entire few months I was with him before everything shattered.

  His hand moved to his armrest, where he pressed a button. “Stop the plane.”

  “Wait—what?” I lifted off the back of my seat.

  “You’re getting off.”

  “I’m … no, I’m not.”

  “You damned well are.”

  I frowned, then leaned over and pressed the same button. “Keep the plane going.”

  Unfortunately, I felt the thing slow down, to which Theo inclined his head and eyed me blandly. “They listen to me, not you.”

  “You’ll have to forcibly remove me, then.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Half of my gusto disappeared. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” I gestured vaguely to his face. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  “This was a mistake. You’re better off with Kai.”

  “I haven’t come this far, risked this much, to go backward.” Against my better judgment, blunt curiosity crept in. “What happened?”

  The directness fazed him. He blinked. “We’re not here to share our traumas.” Again, with the head-cock. “Or are we? Do you want to talk about things in our past? Your sister, perhaps?”

  All organs, all bones making up my body, went rigid. “Don’t you dare,” I whispered. Wetness coated my bottom lashes, but I didn’t so much as swipe the damp away. Further response would only prove he hit his mark. “Don’t you dare mention her.”

  “Then I suppose we’re in agreement,” he said with all the inflection of a stone. His index finger compressed the button. “False alarm. Continue on.”

  Should I be feeling relief in this moment? Or was the offense of bringing up Cassie enough to make me depart this plane—this plan—on my own terms?

  Theo answered my questions before I could. Not through more talk, since we were both done with that, but through unclipping his seatbelt, standing up, and moving away.

  “I’ll be in my family’s quarters for the rest of the flight.” He wasn’t even directing his words at me. “Andrea will be able to meet any of your needs for the duration.”

  “Not yours?” I sneered, though even for me, it was a low, unnecessary blow that I instantly regretted.

  Theo didn’t bother with an answer. Instead, he said, “For the record, the reason we’re going to London is because of the information you downloaded off Neri’s phone. I knew Trace had spent time with him by speaking in the same circles you were, but that he’d since left the property. Neri was my dead-end on finding my brother. Until you surprised me by accessing data I didn’t have.” He bent down, close to my ear. “Over there, at the docks? I had nothing,” he repeated. “It wasn’t until you boarded this plane and Andrew accessed your bag that we had an additional clue. You fell for my bluff.”

  Cold air swept against the side of my face as he strode to the back, through the door I thought was the bathroom, but instead was a private suite for the Saxons, and disappeared behind the expensive wood.

  “Fucker,” I hissed. My shoulders pressed into the leather seat as the plane picked up speed and the engines grew in sound and power. The wheels lifted off the ground and sank into the plane with air and jet fuel replacing the need for rubber. We lifted off into the dark, cloudless sky. My windows went black as the cityscape shrunk in view and distance, and I played with the straw in my drink, allowing the circulating oxygen to dry anything wet on my face.

  I didn’t see him for the rest of the flight.

  11 No Coffee For You

  “Miss?”

  I smacked at the fragrant, soft pressure on my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but the plane has landed.”

  Turning in bed wasn’t supposed to be this hard. It felt too upright, overly stiff, not at all like the regular hotel mattresses I’d been marshmallowed into—

  “Miss!” Thwack.

  “Ow—hey!” I blinked and swatted at air this time, as Andrea was smart enough to have backed off the instant my eyes opened.

  Or … so I thought. My hand had fisted, and I might have swung at her instead of slapped.

  “Oh, God,” I said, shifting straighter. “Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” Andrea said, rubbing at her arm. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

  “That’s not … I didn’t…”

  Too late. Andrea was already making her way to the galley at the back of the plane—yes, a private plane, not in bed at a hotel, or in my apartment. Did I rent an apartment anymore?—and I rubbed at my eyes, uncaring of whatever makeup I smeared across my cheeks.

  Somehow, I’d fallen into a deep slumber. I remembered the wake time before, with Theo across from me, the scar bridging his nose whitening with anger, my cheeks boiling with heat-fueled rage. In essence, what was quickly becoming a typical Scarlet-Theo teté-a-teté.

  I spun around in my seat. “Is Theo awake?”

  Andrea paused in pouring a seltzer, hissing as it hit the ice. “I don’t believe he slept.”

  She resumed pouring and clinking, steadfastly not looking in my direction, and it was all too tempting to read into her actions. Instead, I flipped back around and aimed my attention at a random magazine stacked beside me in the armrest. If I were flipping the pages a little too aggressively, well, no one knew that but me.

  The crackling and bubbling came closer to my ears, and Andrea set the drink, with a lime curlicue on top, beside me. “There’s a change of clothes for you on the lounge behind you.”

  “Oh?”

  My wrinkled, navy blue formal gown must not be adequate dress anymore. The stitching was starting to rub under my arms, and I had to admit, it was not like sleeping in a nightgown. Especially upright.

  “I have clothes in my bag….” I glanced around. “Wherever it is.”

  And frankly, where was Lurch, anyway? I hadn’t seen him at all during the flight, which was probably a good thing, since he probably was the Andrew that stole my phone.

  “These will be more adequate.” While perfectly polite, Andrea’s expression communicated the necessity of less dilly-dally and more gung-ho. “The pilot says it’s about forty-five minutes until our descent.”

  I sipped the seltzer—wishing it were coffee, but I’d accidentally hit Andrea and probably didn’t deserve the service—while padding over to the long, creme-swirl of a couch, where an unobtrusively folded stack of clothes was waiting. I didn’t have to touch them to understand the complexity of the stitching and the utter softness of the fabric. When I pressed my fingers into the top piece, it crinkled musically with the tissue paper stuck between it. Unfolding the shirt, a
waft of my usual perfume hit my nostrils, the tissue floating silently and fragrantly to the floor.

  I checked the tag. It was an expensive silk blouse, European, and in exactly my size, lightly spritzed with my perfume.

  How did Theo remember…?

  Then I frowned. The better question would’ve been, how did Theo expect?

  He had my presence on this plane so preplanned that these clothes had been ready for me the instant I touched down in Los Angeles. And oh, it irked.

  Only one person had the capability of checkmating me, and damned if he would win the next round.

  I unzipped out of my dress and slipped the blouse on. And double-shit, his taste was on point.

  Sadly, I stripped it off and laid it with the dark, fashionably distressed and likely hip-hugging designer denim he’d also acquired.

  My bag had been shoved between the seat and the couch on the other side, as I spotted the naturally-distressed strap hanging out. With a quick heave, I dragged it to the center aisle, unzipped it, and rifled through until I found what I needed.

  Theo stepped out right when I was hopping one leg into my cut-off shorts.

  “Ahem.”

  His throat-clearing gave me pause, but I recovered enough to stand and button my shorts. I looked over my shoulder and realized his gaze was still on my ass. He’d totally seen my hot-pink G-string.

  At least, I thought with relief, he didn’t see my scar.

  My back had been to him, my cauterized wound well-hidden from view. No one except Kai had seen it, as I was incredibly protective. I didn’t wear two-piece bathing suits anymore—not that I’d had much cause to be on a beach—nor did I need to cover it during sex, since I had none of it, not since Theo.

  Which was better left unthought of.

  “You’re not wearing what I chose for you,” he said.

  “Nope.” I bent down and hooked my shirt, a plain white tee, and pulled it over my black-lace scalloped bra. Then, I faced him.

  He was dressed in low-slung jeans and an army-green V-neck tee. All designer, I was sure, hence the flawless pec-hugging and likely, butt-cupping, of the clothes.