Without Regret (Devil's Playground #1)

by Nicole Edwards

  “We’re just working through our issues,” the man replied casually.

  “Well, good. Because we’re here to settle this,” Isaiah informed the man.

  “I see Max has come to his senses.”

  Isaiah laughed, a dark, threatening sound that made the hair on the back of Cassidy’s neck stand on end.

  “No, actually. His instructions were simple.”

  One of the other guys in the room aimed his gun at Jordan’s head.

  “And that would be?” the gray-haired man inquired.

  “Kill you all.”

  “Well, from where I sit, that doesn’t seem beneficial to any of us.”

  “Maybe not,” Isaiah said, his gun at his side. “In the meantime, I brought the money he owes you.”

  “Good to see Max decided to pay up. Or was it the sister?” the man questioned angrily.

  “Oh, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

  “Well, I won’t accept payment from Max.”

  “Who said Max would be willing to pay?” Isaiah asked.

  Cassidy was hanging by a thread, hating this game they were playing. Was Isaiah bluffing? Or did he really have the money? He’d never mentioned it if he did.

  And if he was telling the truth, the next questions she had were: Where was the money, and how were they planning to get Jordan out of there alive?

  15

  Howard Turner was a wannabe gangster with a bad temper and an even worse toupee. He was nothing more than a bottom-feeding loan shark who preyed on people like Jordan Owens, a man with a gambling problem living in the wrong city and succumbing to the draw of Sin City.

  That didn’t mean Isaiah would discount the fact that Howard had a gun and looked ready to blow Cassidy’s brother’s head right off.

  But Isaiah knew the man wouldn’t do as much because without Jordan Owens alive, there was no reason for anyone to settle his debt. And Isaiah hadn’t been kidding when he’d shared Max’s orders to kill them all. That was the plan.

  Maybe not today, but it would happen.

  Max Adorite didn’t play games, and when he asked nicely for someone to reach out to him, this wasn’t how he meant. And for that, Howard Turner would die.

  However, Isaiah’s goal was to get Jordan out of there in one piece, reunite him with his sister, and get the Owens siblings back to life as normal.

  “I take it you received Max’s request,” Isaiah questioned, his gaze scanning the room, taking it all in.

  “I did. I figured this was a good way to let him know I wasn’t playing his little game.”

  “Oh, Max doesn’t play games,” Isaiah assured Howard. “Then again, you already knew that.”

  There was true fear in Howard Turner’s light brown eyes. He knew he’d crossed a line. Granted, he likely had a plan of his own, and Isaiah hoped he would get to hear about it.

  He smiled when Howard spoke.

  “I don’t have a beef with Max Adorite,” Howard said, his eyes locked with Isaiah’s.

  “You mean, you didn’t. Until today,” Isaiah added. “The bottom line is, Mr. Turner, I’m here to take Jordan Owens. Alive.”

  “He’s not going anywhere until I get my money.”

  “I don’t have your money,” Jordan grumbled.

  “So you’ve said,” Howard retorted with a disgusting grin. “Doesn’t mean you won’t come up with it. I’ve already told you, we’ll take that pretty sister of yours as collateral.”

  Isaiah growled. The thought of Howard putting his filthy hands on what belonged to him didn’t sit well.

  Wait.

  Belonged to him?

  Since when had he claimed Cassidy as his own?

  Before he had a chance to ponder that question, Howard spoke again.

  “So what’ll it be?”

  Isaiah lifted his eyebrow, encouraging Howard to tell him the options.

  “I’ll take the thirty-five thousand that Mr. Owens owes me right now, and you can have him back. Or …”

  “Or?” Isaiah asked, trying to keep his cool.

  “Or we can make a trade until Mr. Owens can come up with the money.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Isaiah assured him. “I’ve got thirty. You take it, hand over Jordan, and you can be on your merry way. Otherwise, you don’t have shit, and in about thirty seconds, I’ll have the cash and the kid.”

  That got Harold’s attention. He got to his feet and righted his suit jacket, never taking his eyes off Isaiah.

  “Thirty isn’t the deal. I said thirty-five.”

  “That’s not what he owes you.”

  “Sure it is. I charge for my time, and I’ve wasted the last half hour on him. That’s an extra five.”

  Isaiah shook his head. “Thirty or no deal. Your choice. But keep in mind, the more you barter, the deeper of a hole you dig yourself. You claim you don’t have a beef with Mr. Adorite, but you seem to forget who you’re dealing with. Continue on this path, and he’ll have a beef with you. He asked nicely for you to reach out to him, to talk this through. You opted to ignore his generosity.”

  “What’s keeping me from getting the rest of my money from the sister?” Harold questioned, his tone hard, his gaze backlit with fury.

  “Because you touch one hair on her head and I’ll rip your throat out with my bare hands,” Isaiah said, his tone lethal. “Understood?”

  Harold glanced over at Jordan, seemingly weighing his options.

  Isaiah knew better.

  People underestimated him, figured him to be a street-stupid businessman. What most people didn’t realize was that Isaiah had never had it easy. He could brawl with the best of them, even at thirty-eight.

  And the last thing he would tolerate was anyone threatening to hurt a woman. Especially his woman.

  Shrugging off the thought once again, Isaiah said, “Like I said. Your choice. I’ve got a club to run, and I’m wasting my time with you. So either choose the money so we can all be on our way or don’t. I don’t really give a fuck.”

  Howard’s cheeks puffed up, his anger apparent. “Fuck you, Fontenot. Give me the goddamn money, but I hope you realize this ain’t over.”

  Isaiah reached for the brown bag that Jake had brought with him. He then tossed it over to Harold.

  When everyone’s eyes were on the bag in the air, Hayden slipped into the room, his movements not noticed until it was too late. With Hayden’s gun now pointed at Harold’s head, Isaiah instructed Harold’s men to untie Jordan.

  “It’s all over, kids. Toss your guns on the floor or Mr. Wellington won’t hesitate to off your boss.”

  Isaiah spared Harold a glance.

  “Do it,” Harold ordered.

  “Smart move,” he told Harold, then turned his attention back to the man closest to Jordan. “Let him go and you can have your boss back. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

  Harold snarled at Isaiah but instructed his men to release Jordan.

  Minutes later, Harold and his guys were on their way out of the room, their guns still on the floor, while Cassidy and Jordan reunited.

  It was then that Isaiah breathed a sigh of relief.

  Right before he began pondering the questions he’d had earlier.

  Not that he knew how to answer them, but he figured he was running out of time, so he had to do something quick, before Cassidy Owens simply waltzed right out of his life as fast as she’d waltzed in.

  16

  Cassidy had managed to keep it together after Isaiah had diffused the situation, during their uneventful trip back to Devil’s Playground, and even long enough for some man who claimed he was a doctor to check Jordan out in Isaiah’s office.

  But that didn’t last long when Isaiah confronted her while her brother was talking on the phone with Max and Courtney Adorite.

  “You okay?” Isaiah asked, his voice soft, soothing, as though he was truly concerned about her well-being.

  He placed his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back, forci
ng her to look at him. That was when Cassidy lost it.

  Throwing her arms around Isaiah’s waist, she held on to him, every ounce of the fear she’d had when they’d found her brother tied to a chair and beaten rushing out of her in a flood of tears.

  “Hey,” Isaiah crooned against her ear. “Everything’s fine now.”

  “I know,” she sobbed.

  But she didn’t know.

  Sure, Jordan was alive, and his debt with that man had been settled, but there was still the fact that someone had paid off his debt, which meant he wasn’t out of the hot seat. And it also left Cassidy wondering where she and Isaiah stood. Now that she was safe, would he simply walk away?

  Did she want more from him?

  Did it even matter?

  It took a minute for her to master her resolve, but Cassidy finally reined in the tears, forcing herself to get a firm grip on her emotions.

  Isaiah pulled back and looked down at her. Wiping her face with the heels of her hands, Cassidy hoped she didn’t look as bad as she felt.

  “The club’s going to open in a few minutes. I need to get out there.”

  “Is it safe for me to go home?” she asked.

  Isaiah didn’t respond immediately, making her wonder what he was thinking about.

  “Not yet,” he finally said. “There’re a couple of loose ends that Jake and Hayden are taking care of now. You can stay with me tonight?”

  The last sentence was posed as a question, and Cassidy clung to the hope that had filled her chest earlier that day when they’d made love in his bed. Nodding her agreement, she tried to take a step back.

  “Until then, I want you to come to work with me tonight. Will you do that?”

  That question surprised her. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “If we go right now, you can pick something out at the boutique.”

  Cassidy couldn’t find any reason to argue with him. She wanted to spend more time with him, especially if they would be going their separate ways soon. For a woman who was known for her level-headedness, she knew her reaction to Isaiah was anything but. However, she had a valid reason… She simply didn’t want their time together to end.

  Sliding her hand into his, Cassidy forced a smile as she peered up into his beautiful brown eyes. “Okay.”

  An hour later, Cassidy was walking through the club, hand in hand with Isaiah as he greeted people, taking the time to actually talk to the VIP guests one on one, ensuring they were having a good time and checking to see if they needed anything.

  It was surreal, his job. Isaiah was toe-to-toe with the rich and famous. There were so many people that Cassidy recognized from popular movies, plenty of music stars, all shoulder to shoulder with Isaiah, treating him as though he were their best friend while they all had a good time at Devil’s Playground.

  Sure, she’d heard of the place but had never been, even though she’d lived in Vegas her entire life. Although the club was nice—nicer than nice, actually—it still wasn’t her thing. Sure, she liked the setup, the fancy water features that flowed throughout, the various seating areas, the LED lighting that gave the place a sexy, almost romantic feel, but it wouldn’t have been her first choice for a night out.

  She had to admit, despite that, she was having a good time with Isaiah. He politely introduced her to everyone he spoke with, seemingly proud that she was there with him. It gave her a sense of belonging that she hadn’t felt in so long.

  Not once during the night did she worry about Jordan. She knew he was there, still being protected by Isaiah’s bodyguards because they had some unfinished business to attend to tomorrow. No, her entire focus was on Isaiah. As though she were taking it all in, memorizing every physical detail so that she could hang on to it when this was all over.

  “Your brother asked to speak with you,” Isaiah told her as he led her toward a set of stairs. “I’ll give you two a few minutes.”

  Cassidy nodded and then ascended the stairs when Isaiah motioned her up.

  When she reached the second floor, her eyes took a moment to focus in the dark, but then she noticed Jordan sitting at a table near the wall. As she approached, he got to his feet, pulling her into a hug as soon as she was close enough.

  “Thank you,” he whispered against her ear.

  “For?” she asked, pulling back and looking at him.

  His face was still puffy, but his eye was no longer swollen shut. It was clear he’d showered and changed.

  When Jordan motioned for her to sit down, Cassidy pulled the spare chair closer to him, then eased into it.

  “Are you really okay?” she asked, sensing a nervous tension in her brother.

  “I will be,” he told her, his gaze darting around the area as though he were seeking someone.

  “When?”

  “When what?” he countered.

  “When will you be okay?”

  “When this is all settled,” he said simply. “I’m supposed to meet with Isaiah tomorrow. Then I’ll be having a conversation with Max Adorite.” Jordan’s eyes searched the area once more before settling on her. “Do you know who these people are, Cass?”

  “Yes,” she answered simply.

  “You realize you’ve gotten involved with the mafia?” he asked incredulously.

  Cassidy leaned closer. “You realize the mafia saved your ass today?”

  “I know that,” he replied, a frustrated hint to his tone. “And I’m grateful. But I don’t think you should be mixed up with them.”

  “Too late for that,” she told him.

  “Cass—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Don’t go all big brother on me, Jordan. I know who these people are. And in case you don’t remember, it’s your fault I’m involved at all. So, spare me the good advice. I don’t need it.”

  Jordan’s face fell and Cassidy knew she’d hurt him. As much as she hated that fact, she couldn’t see any other way to deal with her brother at the moment. He was always willing to give advice but never seemed to take any. At this point, he still had some debts to settle, and she only hoped Max would be lenient with him.

  “So what now?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the table.

  “We get back to normal life. And you…” Cassidy waited until he looked at her. “You get some help.”

  Jordan nodded, but she didn’t see sincerity in his gaze. She knew him, knew he’d be the first to make a dozen promises, but he never followed through on them. This time, because he had gotten in with the mafia—as he referred to them—he wasn’t going to have much of a choice.

  “Don’t make any promises,” she said before he could speak. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”

  Jordan nodded, his eyes widening as though he was happy with the idea of her helping him.

  A warm hand landed on her shoulder, and Cassidy turned to see Isaiah standing beside her. She smiled up at him, then got to her feet. Glancing back at Jordan, she smiled. “I get to make the promises this time.”

  Allowing Isaiah to lead her away from the table, Cassidy felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She wasn’t going to worry about Jordan right now. He was right where he needed to be, and she knew he was looking for a way out, but Isaiah wouldn’t allow that to happen. Not until they settled their business. In the meantime, it would give him time to think things through. Her brother wasn’t usually so selfish, but he did have a problem. A problem that she vowed to help him through as long as he was willing. And now that he was in the position he was in, she didn’t think he had much of a choice.

  So for now, she decided to let the heavy thoughts go. There’d be plenty of time to deal with those later.

  “You ready for a break?” Isaiah asked suddenly.

  Cassidy turned to look at Isaiah, realizing for the first time that they’d stopped in a relatively quiet corridor on the second floor of the club.

  “Sure,” she told him, not certain what he had in mind.

  The smile he shot back at her made her toes curl.
It was a promise.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he led her down the hall.

  “My office.”

  Less than a minute later, that was exactly where they were. His office.

  Alone.

  Isaiah flipped the lock on the door and stalked her, forcing her back until her butt hit the edge of his desk.

  “Have I told you how hot you look in this dress?” he asked.

  Cassidy shook her head but added a flirty smile. He had told her, right after she’d put it on. At the time, she’d seen the gleam in his eyes, and she’d been proud of her selection. The slinky red number wasn’t something she would’ve picked out on her own, but the woman at the store had told her that it would set off her hair. She’d been right, and when Isaiah had looked at her after she’d changed, the heat she’d seen in his eyes had been proof.

  Isaiah’s hands slid up her thighs, forcing the short, tight dress higher until the red thong she’d purchased was the only thing separating her sex from his touch.

  He stole her breath when he solved that problem, sliding her panties to the side and teasing her labia with his big, warm fingers.

  “I’ve been dying to get inside you again,” he told her, his breath warm against her lips, his finger sliding through her slit.

  “So why’d you wait so long?” she teased.

  Isaiah smiled, the slight shift of his facial muscles reaching all the way to his eyes.

  “You’re wet,” he said. “For me?”

  “Only you,” she whispered, realizing how true the words were as soon as they were out of her mouth.

  It’d been a long time since Cassidy had felt something for a man, something this intense, this all-consuming. She was a cautious woman, but with Isaiah, she lost every ounce of her inhibitions.

  And she didn’t care.

  Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, everything she’d said and done, she was perfectly content with. It didn’t matter to her that Isaiah was part of a mafia family, that he had killed a man while protecting her.

  If she had to relive it all over again, she wouldn’t change a thing.

  She didn’t have a single regret.