“She was a cop.”
For a moment, Riley’s heart stopped beating.
Shame’s cold, steely, blue gaze rested levelly on his and Riley knew he hadn’t misunderstood him. Still…”What did you say?”
“You heard me, Ry. She was a cop.”
Riley exploded. “Son of a bitch! We’re fucked.” He slammed the bottle down on the counter and spun away, almost a decade of panic spilling loose inside him.
“Relax.” Shame sounded…fine.
Riley wanted to choke him. “Relax?” He started to pace.
Shame picked up the bottle and poured himself some bourbon, then did the same for Riley. “Yes, relax. And have a fucking drink, Ry. She didn’t get anything on me and I didn’t…complete our transaction. So just…calm down. Nothing happened.”
“What?” Riley took a deep breath and made himself focus on what Shame was saying instead of the panic mode trying to assert itself. “What do you mean? If nothing happened, how do you know—”
Then he remembered who he was talking to. Shame had a better sense for cops then anybody he had ever met.
“Okay, let’s back this up.”
“Yeah,” Shame said sardonically. “Why don’t we do that?”
He blew out a breath and Riley cued in on how tense Shame was.
He grabbed his bourbon. “Guess you were right. I do want a drink.”
He hadn’t even had a chance to tilt up the glass when he heard a heavy tread on the floor. Glancing up, he saw his younger brother’s face, dark with five o’clock shadow.
“’Sup?” Con mumbled, clearly still half asleep.
Riley nodded at him. “Good timing, Con. Sit down. We need to talk.”
“I need food. Why else you think I dragged my sorry ass down here?”
Con lived in an apartment above the B&B that was the twin to the one Riley used, which took up the other half of the second floor of their building and was a project they’d spent more than half a year on. And while he had a kitchen, he rarely used it.
“Talk first,” Riley advised. “This is about that client of Lee’s that Shame took on. I don’t think you’re going to like this.”
“I don’t like anything if I don’t have food or coffee in me.” Con scratched his chest. He yawned so wide that his jaw cracked. “What was the problem? Was she a cop? An alien? Unless it’s something like that, let me eat first.”
“She was a cop,” Riley said mildly.
“Not funny.” But Con cracked a grin.
“Not trying to be.” And Riley wasn’t laughing.
Con blinked, then reached up and rubbed his eyes. “Are you shitting me?”
“Come on, Con.” Shame jerked his chin toward the stool next to him. “Sit down. Wake your brain up.”
Riley grabbed some pretzels and poured his brother some coffee. He knew his brother too well. He wouldn’t wake up enough to think without carbs and coffee.
“How come I don’t get bourbon?” Con asked sourly.
“Because you haven’t eaten a damn thing yet.” Riley focused on Shame then. “So…she was a cop.”
“Yep. A cute one, too. Straight as a razor and pissed off about something.” Shame picked up his bourbon and swirled it around.
Just before he had a chance to continue, though, his words managed to penetrate the thick fog of sleep that had gripped Con. “A cop? What the fuck? Did Lee know about this?”
“No.” Shame paused in the middle of a sip of bourbon, grunted. “He didn’t know. And it’s a good thing he didn’t go because he never would have figured it out.”
He sighed heavily. “She’s good. Damn good.”
“What happened?” Riley asked.
“We met at the restaurant.” Shame didn’t go into details about that, because Riley already knew them. They never did any business with somebody in town, and the meet-ups were always in Louisville or Lexington, sometimes even farther away. “We were having dinner, and everything was going fine. I was about to ask her where she wanted to go when she started to kind of…put the pressure on.” A faint smile twisted his lips as he said that.
“Meaning what?”
Shame shook his head, looking disgusted. “I was totally in. She was all nervous and shy, blushing, too. She sat there, about as cute as can be and I was actually enjoying myself and then she starts telling me about how nervous she is and how she’s never done anything like this before and could I lay things out, pretty please?”
He tossed back the bourbon and thunked the glass down hard, grabbing the bottle to pour himself more.
“You realize I charge twenty bucks a pour?” Riley asked, shaking his head.
“Kiss ass,” Shame said. He took another drink but it was slower this time, and he savored it. “And for the record, this shit isn’t worth anything more than fifteen bucks a pour. You overcharge.”
“We overcharge,” Con said. “All three of us own this place. You’re just the silent partner, Shame.”
Shame grimaced and shook his head. “Only because you two assholes couldn’t manage your money on your own.” He sighed and started swirling the glass again, staring down at the amber liquid inside. “She was so cute. So cute and so nervous, and I bought every bit of it.”
“How come you’re so certain she was a cop?” Connor studied him. “You can usually smell them a mile off.”
Shame stroked a finger down his nose. “Yeah, well, I never smelled a cop who smelled as good as her. Besides, something about her bugged me from the get-go but I guess it was because she didn’t seem quite like a normal client. Somebody like her doesn’t need to hire a whore.”
Connor scowled at him.
Riley ignored him.
Shame stared the younger brother down. “That’s what we are,” Shame said. “Whores. We fuck people for money. If you don’t like it, then stop doing it.”
Con just looked away. It was an old argument between them and one that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.
Riley knew what he was, knew what he was doing. He’d long since moved past the knee-jerk reaction Con had just displayed.
For the most part, the younger Steele was just fine and dandy with what he did, but Riley knew there were times when it bugged him.
He wished he had never let his brother get into this but Con had more or less forced his way in and there was no closing Pandora’s Box once it was open.
“How about you finish telling us?” Riley said, drawing Shame’s attention back to him.
“She pushed too hard.” Shame lifted one shoulder. “There’s only one reason she would want to know so much about money, the services and what all I was willing to do. She’s coming off as shy and nervous, but at the same time she’s trying to get the nitty-gritty about just what I’ll do and how much?” He gave a shake of his head. “It didn’t fly.”
“So what did you do?” Conner asked.
“I ordered the most expensive dessert on the menu and the most expensive bottle of wine.” He gave them a smug look. “She didn’t drink hardly any of it so I don’t know if she hated the way it tasted or what. I flirted with her like hell and if she hadn’t been working—and determined to hate me—I probably could have had her naked in five seconds. Then I checked my time and told her that our two hours were up, I hoped she’d enjoy the companionship that had been promised and to let me know if she ever needed to…buy another date.”
Con was snickering into his hand by that point.
“Oh, and I left her with the bill.” Now Shame smiled—wide and pleased. “She came storming out of there like her tight little ass was on fire, looking for me, but she didn’t see me. I stood there across the street watching her and she was talking to somebody. So either she was wired or she had an invisible friend. I know which one I’m thinking.
“Son of a bitch.” Con rubbed his face.
“So you got her thinking this is just…an escort service?”
“Hey, it would make sense.” Shame winked at him. “But don’t thank me. T
he look on your face says everything.”
Riley pinched the bridge of his nose.
“What are we going to do?” Connor said.
Riley shook his head.
“Riley.”
“Would you be quiet?” Riley snapped. “I’m trying to think.”
“You two are a couple of old hens,” Shame said, shaking his head. “What we need to do is just not take on any new clients for a while. Start vetting them. Do background checks.”
“I don’t like invading somebody’s privacy,” Connor said.
“And I don’t want to see you in jail,” Riley snapped. “If somebody wants to hire us, it won’t be an option. No money, no services until a basic background is run.”
“Me?” Connor glared at him. “What about you?”
“If anybody needs to go, it will be me. Right now, no new clients. We’ll stick to our regulars and see what happens.”
A pair of heavy thuds sounded on the floor overhead.
Con jerked his head up. “What in the hell is that? A stampede of wild animals?”
“No…just a wild Toby.” Riley rubbed the back of his neck. Shit, for a few seconds, he’d forgotten.
Slowly, Con’s gaze came back to his. “Toby,” Con said slowly. “Are you talking about Brianna’s Toby? That Toby?”
“How many others do we know?”
Overhead, the thumps and thudding continued, and Riley had to concede that it did sound more like a wild animal—maybe even a baby elephant—than a five year old kid.
The crashing continued down the hall, then there was a lessening of noise. Riley wasn’t fooled and he gave both Con and Shame a quelling look, not that it was needed.
They’d both already zipped their mouths shut.
A moment later, the thudding resumed, louder now, and closer. Riley came out from behind the bar just as the door at the far end of the club opened.
Toby burst out, just a foot ahead of his mother, his eyes wide and curious. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw Riley. “Hey…oh, wow! Hey, Riley!” He waved at him and looked back at his mom.
“We’re at Riley’s!” he announced.
Connor turned to greet both mother and child, his typical, charming smile already in place. He might be reserved around her because of what had happened between Brianna and Riley but he had a love for the ladies that nothing could undo.
So Riley wasn’t surprised when the smile on his brother’s face flickered, then faltered. Con’s jaw went tight.
“What the—”
“Connor,” Riley said sharply. He shook his head and glanced at the boy who was already making a circuit of the nearly empty room.
“Later, then.”
Riley didn’t respond. Con would fill in most of the blanks on his own, but whether or not Bree wanted him to have more was up to her. Save for the necessities, of course. Riley would be telling him those—namely, that if Donnie showed his face around there, the gloves were coming off.
“How are you doing, Brianna?” Con said, smoothly covering the tension as he started toward her.
“I’m fine. We…um…we heard the voices, decided to come down.” She glanced from the brothers to Shame.
Shame nodded at her, lifting his glass in acknowledgement in lieu of a verbal greeting.
Just before Riley could offer his own greeting, Toby hurled himself at him, grinning up at Riley as he wrapped his unbroken arm around Riley’s leg. “You wanna sign my cast?”
“Sure.” His throat went tight as hot, ugly emotions pulsed within him, but he’d never give them voice around the kid or Bree. “What do you want on it? A stick figure? I’m real good at those.”
Toby laughed.
His heart melting just a little, Riley caught the kid up in his arms and hugged him. “Speaking of your cast, how is your arm?” he asked easily. “You doing okay, champ?”
“It hurts.” Toby stated it matter-of-factly, then shrugged. “Dad pushed me and I fell off the porch.”
The words were delivered with the honesty of a child not yet broken.
Bree went still.
Connor froze. But the most dangerous reaction came from the man still sitting at the bar.
Glass shattered.
Bree jumped at the noise and Con flinched.
From the corner of his eye, Riley saw Shame slip off the stool. “Dude,” the other man said, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry. I’m just a klutz.”
Shame didn’t wait for a response. He was already walking across the floor and nobody spoke as he disappeared down a hallway and returned a moment later with a broom and dustpan in hand.
“What happened?” Toby asked, leaning in to whisper, the words overloud and easily carrying across the room.
“Hey, you heard him.” Riley tried to shrug it off. “Shame can be kind of clumsy. He dropped the glass.”
“That’s it, kid,” Shame said, his voice calm and measured as he cleaned up the mess. “I’ve just got butterfingers.”
Toby obviously didn’t think to ask about why the glass lay broken in a glittering mess of shards ten feet from where Shame had been sitting. But kids could be like that—so open, so easy and trusting.
To Riley, it was amazing that this kid could trust, considering the life he’d had.
Shifting the boy onto his hip, he looked over at Bree.
She was staring at the wall, still frozen.
“Bree.”
She jumped at the sound of her name and he wanted to go to her, kiss her, touch her, hug her, hold her, something, just to let her know she was going to be okay.
He needed it.
But she was trembling and nervous, her eyes skittering around the room as though she was preparing for an attack.
Riley didn’t know how to handle that.
He offered a smile and she gave him one in return, but it was weak and wobbly and all that did was make him more furious, which made the helplessness inside him grow until he thought it might explode out of control.
Silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the faint noises coming from behind them as Shame finished cleaning up his mess.
He disappeared again down the hall. Riley could see the other man from the corner of his eye and he half-expected Shame to just disappear. That was what the man did when things got emotionally complicated. Riley understood it. Shame’s life had sucked so bad for so long and Riley couldn’t even say that Shame was getting a grip on any of it, that he’d even learned how to cope.
What Shame did was exist.
But Shame didn’t disappear.
He came back into the main room of the club and approached Bree, stopping a few feet away.
“Sorry. You didn’t need that.”
She looked away, uneasy.
“Did you get that looked at?”
“I…yes. It looks worse than it is.” She met his eyes now and Riley could see the spread of blood creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.
She was embarrassed, ashamed.
But she met Shame’s gaze when she wouldn’t even look at Riley. It made sense, in a way. If anybody would understand, it was Shame Schaffer, the son of the biggest piece of scum to ever come out of Turner Grove.
His father, Samuel Schaffer, was serving a life sentence in a federal penitentiary, but not for the crimes he’d committed against Shame. Just about everybody in the whole damn town had turned a blind eye to what had been done to him as a boy. His father had been the richest man in town. Who was going to cross him?
Sadly, nobody had realized just what would happen when that man’s children grew up and had children of their own, such as his daughter. She’d ignored the cries and screams…until it was her own son.
Shame had sat through the entire trial.
Riley had been there with him, as had his brother and sister.
Never once had they discussed it.
But they all knew.
“Don’t go back,” Shame said softly.
“I’m not.” She nodded slowly, the movemen
t awkward, as if she’d forgotten how to control her own body.
A moment later, Shame turned around and headed for the door. He paused long enough to say, “I’ll see what I can do about that…staffing problem that developed last night, Ry. Back in later today.”
“I…uh…yeah. I need to go eat.” Con gave Bree a quick hug, light and easy, and then he paused beside Toby and hugged him. “You be good, tough guy.”
Toby laughed. “Bye, Con.”
Once the three of them were alone, Bree busied herself looking at everything but Riley.
Riley busied himself with eating in the sight of her as fast as he could. He hadn’t seen her much lately. He didn’t go to Turner’s Grove often, just to see his aunt on occasion and maybe share a beer with a couple of old friends from time to time.
And when the ache got too bad, he went back, and then pretended he’d forgotten to bring some deodorant or something stupid like that, just so he’d have a reason to go to the grocery store where she worked. He’d linger and wander around until he caught sight of her and then he’d pretend that he hadn’t been just waiting for the chance to see her.
And she let him.
Her eyes would light up and she’d get that blush of nervous excitement she’d had on her cheeks the first time he’d asked her out, the first time he’d kissed her…the first time he’d stripped her naked and made love to her in the back of his old pickup truck.
Now, as if she sensed his thoughts, she glanced over at him and that blush made an appearance, started low on her neck, giving her dusky skin a soft pink flush. He wanted to bite her, wanted to lick her and kiss her, and a thousand other things.
But he just stood there as Toby traced his fingertip over the ink of one of Riley’s tattoos. It kind of tickled, but he wasn’t about to tell the boy to stop.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Fine, thank you.” She licked her lips and looked away. “We won’t take your bed again, Riley. Toby can sleep on the couch. I’ll be fine in the chair.”
“My mother would rise up out of her grave and haunt me if I let a guest sleep in the chair,” he said. He gave the boy a quick pat on the rump before putting him down. “I’ve actually got a bed on order for the guest room anyway. One more day and you two can stay in there.”
“You…” She blew out a careful breath. “Did you actually already have a bed on order?”
F*ck Club: Riley Page 3
