Beneath These Shadows

by Meghan March

  Eden looked at me, her face even redder than before. “Well . . . she’s a character.”

  “That’s one way to describe it.” I shook my head to get rid of the mental picture of Harriet getting down with some old dude. “You need anything else before I take off? I gotta get back to work.”

  “No.” She looked up at me with something in her eyes I hadn’t ever seen before. “But I really appreciate this. So much. I don’t know how I can ever really thank you. First the hotel, and then this. Most people wouldn’t put themselves out for someone they don’t know.”

  It wasn’t just gratitude staring back at me, it was . . . awe. Almost . . . hero worship.

  But I wasn’t a fucking hero even on my best day, and having her look at me like that made me realize all the things I wasn’t and never would be.

  My reply came out gruffer than I intended. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t owe me shit. Just stay out of trouble.”

  A little of the awe fell away, and I had to tell myself I didn’t care, even as disappointment slid into its place.

  “I’m sorry to cause so much trouble.” Eden wrapped her arms around herself in what I was coming to realize was one of her protective gestures. “I’ll be fine. Thank you again.”

  A mask of absolutely fucking nothing slipped over her features. The words sounded final, like I wouldn’t be seeing her again, and it would probably be a hell of a lot better if I didn’t.

  But if that were the case, why did it feel like a rock had been dropped in my gut?

  Street after street, I kicked myself for not handling every encounter I had with Eden better. She threw me completely off-balance and made me want to be more than what I’d become—which didn’t make any fucking sense because I didn’t even know her.

  But you want to know her.

  That voice spoke the truth, even if I didn’t want to admit it.

  She was keeping secrets, and if she were anyone else, I wouldn’t care. Wouldn’t bother to dig. But for some reason, I wanted to know what was hiding behind those layers of innocence that kept drawing me in.

  And it pissed me off. Because this wasn’t me. Besides, how could I demand answers from her when there was no way in hell I’d be sharing the shit from my past with anyone? Outside of Delilah, I’d kept it locked down for years and wouldn’t be changing that anytime soon.

  I was a block from Canal when my cell rang, ripping me out of my impending trip down memory lane. Leon’s name popped up on the screen.

  “What’s going on, man?”

  “Damn, Bish. Were you trying to cost me my job? What the hell?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your girl that threw the card down for that room I kept for you? Her card got flagged for fraud and she skipped out without paying for the extra night she stayed that wasn’t comped. Just straight-up fucking bailed, according to my manager. Didn’t even check out.”

  “What the fuck? Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “I’ll make sure you get paid. I’ll cover it if I have to, and I’m sure as hell going to find out what happened.” The anger burning through me came out in my voice.

  “You can pay me back since it’s coming out of my paycheck. My manager was talking about turning it over to the police, and I told him it was my mistake. I’m lucky he didn’t fucking fire me.”

  “Man, I’m sorry I brought that shit to your door. I’ll make it right. I’ll get you the cash, and your next sitting is on me.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Just promise me you’ll teach that bitch a lesson.” Leon’s voice dropped low. “Let me know if you want me to handle it.”

  A shaft of protectiveness shot through me regardless of how fucking pissed I was at what Eden had done—and not bothered to mention.

  “Not a fucking chance will you ever lay a hand on her. You’ll get your money, and if you want the sitting, it’s yours for the inconvenience. Leave her out of it.”

  “All right, all right. Sorry, Bish. Didn’t know it was like that. Figured you’d be done with the bitch by now. By the way, Kitty was pissed that you tossed her ass out. Ain’t gonna get another shot at that.”

  “I’ll talk to you later, man.” I didn’t bother to wait for his reply before I hung up.

  I couldn’t give a fuck less about Kitty right now. I wanted to turn around and go back to Eden’s new place and shake the truth out of her. Shit wasn’t adding up. Was that innocence she wore like her pink fucking sweaters just a front? Was she running some kind of con?

  I hadn’t been played in years, and I couldn’t believe some naive girl had done it.

  Why would she bail on the hotel bill but shell out money for rent? None of it added up, but you’d better believe I was going to get to the truth somehow.

  I checked the time. If I didn’t have an appointment in ten minutes, I’d be back beating down her door for some answers.

  She couldn’t be that good of an actress. I could smell a con a mile away, thanks to my younger years, and Eden didn’t give off a hint of that vibe.

  I turned it over and over in my mind all the way back to the shop, and through my whole appointment. Fuck it . . . I’d be going back tonight.

  I WANDERED AROUND MY TINY new apartment, which took all of approximately ninety seconds. There was a small bedroom, a minuscule bathroom, and an open area that served as a living room and eat-in kitchen. But the small size didn’t bother me. My apartment in New York, one that I’d fought for the right to live in for years before Dom had allowed it, was at least quadruple the size, but I’d never used every room. I hoped this place would feel more like home than that one did.

  Harriet had left a bottle of wine on the counter, and I debated opening it, still wary of alcohol.

  Leaving it where it sat, I unpacked my suitcase and hung up my limited wardrobe before pulling out the envelope of cash I’d stashed in the lining of my bag. I might not have learned a lot of the how to be a gangster rules from the mobsters around me, but at the end of the day, it seemed like there was only one that truly mattered—cash is king.

  For the last several months, every week when my paycheck was deposited into my account, I’d go to the bank and withdraw cash. If someone had asked me at the time, I would have said it was rainy-day money, or some kind of response like that. In all reality, it was because my bank account had been frozen once before when Dom was investigated by the FBI. I couldn’t even buy myself lunch because I’d always relied on plastic and never carried cash.

  As soon as the accounts had been unfrozen, I’d started my stash in case it ever happened again.

  I pulled out the burner phone and checked the Internet browser for news. There’d been nothing new the last five times I’d checked today, and I wasn’t holding my breath now. The only article I could find was the same one that had been there this morning.

  I’d love to think no news was good news.

  Once I’d put the money in the safe in the bedroom closet and organized the rest of my few belongings, I sat down on the small sofa. The TV didn’t work, and none of the five books I started could hold my attention. Restlessness wasn’t a familiar feeling for me, but tonight I had it in spades.

  I looked out the window to the fairy lights hanging in the trees and the blue water of the pool that looked almost tropical with the lights coming from beneath the surface.

  Is it heated? I hadn’t thought to ask Harriet because it wasn’t like I’d packed a bathing suit when I was rushing out of my apartment to leave the city.

  Deciding to find out for myself, I opened the door and padded down the wrought-iron spiral staircase to the path that led to the pool. It was a magical little courtyard, and I could see why Charlie had called it her garden oasis. I kicked off one shoe and dipped a toe in the water.

  Perfect.

  Harriet said she was leaving. The pool couldn’t be seen from the gate . . . did I dare take a dip sans suit?

  I’d never skinny-dipped in my life, bu
t I was turning over a whole new leaf in New Orleans. Daring filled me. Why not? I stripped out of my jeans, cardigan, and cami before pausing to decide if I really wanted to go all the way. I could just jump in with my bra and underwear on . . .

  Screw it. For once in my life, I was exercising the go big or go home mentality. I shoved my panties down my legs and unhooked my bra before stepping into the pool and slipping my entire body into the water. Definitely heated. From water level, I could see the small tendrils of steam rising into the cooler night air. It was so peaceful. Everything about this night seemed perfect.

  A new beginning. Maybe a new place to belong. I was filled with hope, and every day that burner phone didn’t make another sound, I convinced myself a little more that maybe they’d forgotten me.

  My quiet reverie didn’t last long, however. The iron gate clanged with someone’s entry, and I slapped a hand over my lips to hold in the shriek that threatened to escape.

  Harriet? Charlie? Who?

  I sank lower into the water, wanting to be completely covered, but sucked in a breath when a tall, broad form entered the courtyard.

  No way.

  Bishop started up the stairs but paused when the spiral caused him to face the pool. He couldn’t miss me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” His deep voice carried across the courtyard as he came back down the stairs and toward me.

  I slipped to the front edge of the pool, pressing my body against the cement wall. I reached out, intent on grabbing my cami or my sweater, but both were just out of reach.

  Bishop stopped a few feet away from the pile of my clothes, and I stared at the thick black soles of his boots. If he came another step closer, there was no way he could miss how well-lit my naked body was by the pool lights.

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” The words were uttered low and hoarse, as if he weren’t talking to me at all.

  “Please toss me my shirt,” I whispered.

  The last thing I expected Bishop to do was shake his head. “Nah. I don’t think I will. Because this way, I’ve got a captive audience and you’re going to answer my questions.”

  Goose bumps rose along my shoulders, and I slipped further beneath the surface so that my chin touched the edge.

  “What are you talking about?” I tried to sound nonchalant, but my heart hammered harder with every beat.

  “You bailed on the hotel. Stiffed them on the bill for what you said you’d cover. Why?”

  Oh shit. I knew that was going to come out sooner or later, but I’d naively hoped for later. Of course his friend would tell him as soon as possible. And of course I didn’t have a story to give Bishop . . . yet.

  He stared down at me, clearly waiting on an answer.

  “I . . . forgot?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t forget shit. You ran. What I want to know is why? I have to assume you have enough to pay rent to Harriet, or are you going to skip out before you pay her too?”

  “No! Of course not. No way would I do that to Harriet.”

  “But you thought it was okay to fuck over the hotel?”

  My fingers curled around the concrete edge of the pool. “I’m so sorry. Really, I am. I got spooked and bolted. It wasn’t planned.”

  Bishop’s stare intensified, as if he were trying to take me apart layer by layer. “You’re not going to tell me the real reason why, are you?”

  I broke away from his gaze and stared out into the darkness that had settled over the courtyard. “I can’t. I . . . if I could, I would.” My voice was quiet, but at least my words weren’t a lie.

  “I heard all the stories about when Charlie was working at the shop and she was on the run, and I gotta say, I see a whole lot of similarities with you. No one can help you if you won’t tell someone what the fuck is going on.”

  A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Help me? The bastard daughter of a mobster being investigated by the FBI and a grand jury? Yeah, right.

  “No one can help me. But I’ll pay for the hotel. Just let me get out and I’ll get the money.”

  He scowled down at me, clearly unhappy with my answer. “We’re way beyond you just handing me some cash and calling it good, cupcake. I want answers. You need me to fuck them out of you? Is that what you’re waiting for?”

  The words came out in a growl, and I jerked away from the edge of the pool, not thinking about how plainly it would put me on display.

  He reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

  “What? No. What are you doing?”

  My voice was so high-pitched that I didn’t recognize it. I also didn’t recognize this even-rougher-than-normal Bishop before me. It was like someone had flipped a switch. I could practically feel the anger radiating off him.

  “I’m coming in. Don’t want to get my clothes wet.”

  I wrapped my arms around my body. No man had seen me fully naked . . . ever. I’d lost my virginity in a beach cabana with my cover-up still on, and he’d barely done more than unzip his khaki shorts.

  Bishop crouched and unlaced his boots before kicking them off and removing his socks.

  I should have been filled with fear, but when he reached for the button of his jeans, my mouth dried and any trace of apprehension disappeared. Heat flowed through me like the temperature of the pool water had been increased another twenty degrees when he lowered the zipper.

  Was this the moment I was supposed to look away? Because there was no way I could do it. I wanted to see everything.

  I thought of Kitty and how she’d practically licked her lips when she’d seen Bishop enter the room. I’d known what she wanted then, and apparently my body was on board for that same thing right now, even if my rational mind was screaming at me to cover my eyes.

  He shoved off his jeans, and I expected boxers or briefs or even boxer briefs beneath them. Instead, there was just . . . Bishop.

  A whole lot of Bishop.

  Oh. My. God.

  I’d seen porn; I wasn’t completely unacquainted with dicks. But I was also under the impression that dicks in porn were way larger than the average man. Apparently, I’d been misinformed, because Bishop was . . . big.

  He was also totally shameless as he came toward the steps and walked down into the water.

  “You’re really fucking quiet all of a sudden, cupcake.”

  The word fucking, regardless of the context he used it in, sent my imagination tumbling into the gutter.

  “Why . . . why are you doing this?”

  “Because I can’t seem to get answers out of you any other way, and if we’re both naked, I’m a hell of a lot less likely to pick you up and shake them out of you—unless it’s going to make you come.”

  My insides clenched.

  “I would tell you if I could, but I swear it’s better if you don’t know.”

  He stepped closer to me as I shrank back against the opposite wall of the pool from where I’d stood before.

  “That’s just too fucking bad, because I’m not leaving without answers.”

  IT WASN’T LIKE I HAD a plan when I came back to Harriet’s. All I had was the extra set of keys I’d purposely kept, and the knowledge that I wasn’t leaving until I knew whether the Eden I’d thought I was getting a feel for was a fraud.

  When I saw her in the pool and realized she was naked, I decided to take the prime opportunity presented to me.

  If she was running some kind of con, I figured she’d use her body to distract me from getting the answers I wanted. If she wasn’t . . . I guessed we’d see how she’d react.

  I stalked her as she paddled backward to the wall and waited until she had nowhere else to retreat.

  “What do you want from me?” she whispered.

  “I want the truth.”

  But that wasn’t all I wanted. My cock was rock hard and not afraid to remind me that I wanted her body too.

  “Just let me get the money. I made a huge mistake. I freaked out over something stupid. I’m so sorry.” S
he looked away as she spoke.

  I released the concrete edge of the pool and lifted my hand to her chin to force her dark gaze to mine. “Not enough. That’s bullshit, and we both know it.”

  Indecision warred behind her gaze, and I wished she’d just fucking spill so I could quit wondering if I was drawn to someone who was a con or just on the run.

  She swallowed, her eyes on mine when she finally said, “They told me my credit card was canceled because of fraud, and I thought I saw cops at the front desk and I got scared that maybe they’d arrest me or something. So I ran.”

  Her explanation sounded sincere enough to be the truth, but my radar didn’t seem to operate flawlessly around her, so I needed more.

  “Did you steal the credit card you used?”

  Eden’s eyes widened. “No. Of course not.”

  “Then why would you think the cops would arrest you if there was an issue with it?”

  Her gaze dropped away from mine. “I panicked.”

  Something wasn’t adding up, but I didn’t have a fucking clue what it was. “So you’re just afraid of cops?”

  For a girl like Eden, I couldn’t imagine that she’d have any reason not to think cops were the most helpful people on the planet. For a guy like me, I avoided them as much as I fucking could, even though it seemed half the NOPD had decided that I was the guy who needed to do their ink.

  “I don’t particularly like them,” she said quietly.

  “You ever broken the law before this, Eden?”

  I expected a quick and unequivocal no, but it didn’t come as fast as I thought it would.

  “I don’t think so. I mean, I’m sure I have by accident sometime. I’ve jaywalked. But I’m not some kind of criminal.”

  Well, that makes one of us, I thought.

  My anger from earlier started to fade and be replaced by the heat of the knowledge that Eden’s naked tits were only inches from my chest, separated by water I could see right through. Last time I’d seen them under her pink bra, she’d been too fucked up for me to take advantage . . . but tonight she was completely sober.