Eleusis (Stacked Deck Book 9)

by Emilia Finn

  Olivia has no clue I’m standing here as she transitions into some move that is a clear invitation for filth and fucking, but she makes the filth look graceful, the fucking almost like… art.

  “I honestly have no clue what to do about that,” Eve murmurs almost silently so we’re not overheard and caught watching a class.

  Her lack of venom brings my attention away from Olivia’s strong shoulders, and down to the blonde who watches me watch Olivia.

  “She’s just…” She grabs my arm and pulls me into the hall. “Everyone is making a big deal about how you stare at her.”

  I furrow my brows and continue walking despite my hunger to stay and watch some more of Olivia’s class. “Everyone, as in…?”

  “Ben,” she snickers. “Ben and Oz get together for dinner and a beer, and I swear, they just don’t shut up about you. But while they’re doing their caveman thing, the girls sit in the living room, and we have our own discussions.”

  “About what? Me?”

  She shrugs and leads me back into the room with the boxing ring. “Liv is rarely active in these discussions, and more often than not, she’s not even in the room. But when she is, she remains quiet and acts like she’s completely unfazed by the attention.”

  “I’m sensing a but.”

  She snorts and indicates toward the mats so I can drop my bag. “Get your grappling gloves on. I wanna run you through some drills.”

  “Are you gonna hurt me?”

  She barks out a loud laugh and turns to walk away. “Depends on how I’m feeling as this discussion progresses.”

  While I lean over my bag and start working my gloves on, she crosses the room and dons a pair of Thai pads.

  “So let me give you a little bio on our little miss Liv.” Evie turns back and meets my eyes. “It’s easy for me to see that you like her. You don’t even know her, so it’s not about her brains or personality, but her looks. And trust me, I get it. She’s stunning. Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect eyes. A lot of folks assume my fighter body is the shit, and it is. I like being strong.” Her lips quirk up as she meets my gaze. “But curves, Will. It would be nice to one day have someone tell me I have a nice ass.”

  I work on my second glove, and angle a little to the right to take a look. “You have a nice ass. Everybody says so.”

  She laughs. “So you’re attracted to our baby Liv. Don’t sweat it – if I was gonna swing toward chicks, then I’m not embarrassed to admit she’d be my first stop. But here’s the thing… Liv is a good girl, Will. And not the good girl that you should be tempted to make wild. She’s a legitimate good girl. She keeps her head in the books, she kisses her daddy and holds his hand when they walk sometimes. She lets Ben bulldoze her love life, and she dates men just like that weirdo you met. Brenten.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  She steps onto the edge of the boxing ring and slips through the ropes. “Nobody likes him. He’s less interesting than wet cardboard. But I think maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Liv wants to have a wild love affair with books, not men. So she keeps him around, since he sorta fits the bill. He’s a guy, he has a job, he’s not a threat in any way. She could flatten him in a heartbeat, and everyone knows it.” She stops for a moment and meets my eye with a lifted brow. “Especially him. He’s not overly demanding of her time, and so in exchange, she lets him send her flowers every second day.

  “Liv’s life was tumultuous for a long time.” Evie stops in the middle of the ring, and turns back to watch as I climb through the ropes. “Abusive sperm donor, abused mom, angry big brother who was set on landing himself in prison because he couldn’t control his anger. Her mom needed peace, and Ben was insistent on setting the world on fire, so Liv became the dependable one. Her mom never had to worry or cry because of her.

  “Ben’s ability to be overprotective of the women in his life is like…” She blinks a few times. “A superpower,” she laughs. “That was his way of coping with what happened to them. He became the protector, and so Liv became the protected. She lets Ben do his thing, and she doesn’t clap back too hard, because she knows he does it with pure intentions. She lets her mom do her thing, and she doesn’t rebel, because she knows her mom needs peace. Liv is like…” She lifts the pads, and nibbles on her bottom lip in thought. “I guess she’s the chameleon of the family. She becomes who she needs to be to make those around her comfortable and safe.”

  “So what you’re saying is…?” I lift my hands and take a test jab toward the pad on Evie’s right hand. “Where exactly are you going with this?”

  “If you stick around long enough and become friendly with Liv, she’ll be friendly back. It’s who she is. She’ll be kind to you, she’ll even smile for you. She’ll do whatever it takes…” Evie’s eyes drill into mine. “She becomes whoever she needs to be to keep people safe and secure. So she’ll accept your stares with a smile, and she probably won’t even kick you in the nuts for it.”

  “Silver lining.”

  She snorts. “But beneath it all, she’s the good girl. She deserves peace too. She deserves safety and security and happiness.”

  “And you think I’m the anti to safety, security, and happiness?”

  She lifts the pads again, a silent request, and accepts my one-two strikes. “Not necessarily,” she continues when I bring my hands back up. “You’ve spent your entire life taking care of Quinn. Safety, security, happiness. So I would never accuse you of putting Livi in danger. But like I said, you don’t know her. You only see her. So what you like about her has nothing to do with her brains, and everything to do with wanting to touch her butt.”

  “Well…” I swallow, and duck forward for another jab, jab, hook. “Maybe.”

  “So you’re looking for a fun time. And that is the anti to security and happiness for my sweet sister-in-law.”

  “So this is you warning me away? You do it with a sweet smile and a cute ass, and you figure it stings less than if Ben does it himself?”

  She grins and rearranges her pads, so I skip around and drive a hook in until her shoulders fire up.

  “I don’t know that I’m warning you away from her. Just… cautioning. Be good to her, be gentle, because beneath her chameleon ways is a heart that needs to be tended to.”

  “A half-blessing.” I lift my leg to check the roundhouse Evie swings my way without warning. “I’ve never been a relationship kinda guy, Evie, and I’ve never spent the night with the same chick more than once.”

  “Filthy whore.”

  I chuckle and reset for another set of combos. “If she’s the princess who needs tending, then I’m probably not the prince. I’m more like…” I look to the ceiling for a moment and think. “I dunno, the farm boy willing to show her a night in the barn. It would be dangerous and fun and not at all PG-13.”

  “Westley was the farm boy.”

  “What?”

  Evie’s eyes snap back to mine. Stunned, confused. She shakes her head and resets her pads. “Nothing. But you basically just confirmed what I said when we started this discussion. I don’t know what to do about you, because you’re a nice guy, and every girl deserves something filthy at least once in her life. It’s just…”

  “She’s not a one-night-with-Will type of girl?”

  “Right. I’m not sure she is. If she somehow got past Ben, and Oz, and her mom, and everyone else who is guarding her heart, if she decided she was willing to be wild for a night, I’m not sure she’s equipped to walk away the next day without giving away half of her heart. And that’s what troubles me. Because as her sister, it’s my job to protect her. Even from guys like you.”

  “And a guy like me is…?”

  “A guy I like,” she murmurs. “I’ve invited you into my gym, Will. Into my family, which means there’s a level of trust there. It means I think you’re a decent dude, and I believe you wouldn’t purposely do anything to harm your or Quinn’s reputation around here.”

  “So you’re say
ing…”

  “I trust you not to steal my wallet,” she exhales. “But I don’t trust you not to take a chunk out of our sweet Livi. And really, I’d prefer you took my wallet.”

  Summer in this gym is like purposely working out in a sauna… but hotter. Sweat tracks along my spine and pools on the canvas floor beneath my feet. Bottles of water are chugged, and some of the moms – Evie’s mom, Jamie’s mom – make it their business to walk around the gym with crates of water. They take an empty bottle and replace it with a full one. Half an hour later, they come back and repeat, and despite the fact they too are sweating, they carry those heavy crates without a single complaint.

  “It’s so fucking hot.” I reach up and swipe my wet arm across my wet forehead – uselessly – so when Evie lowers her hands and succumbs to her thirst, I remove my gloves and drop to the canvas to rest. “Kincaids have more money than God, and not one of you think to install air conditioning in this place? What the fuck is up with that?”

  Snickering, Evie sinks down to sit beside me, and tips her bottle up until she chugs half in one go. “Something about keeping us humble,” she pants, and works on catching her breath. “We have money, but money can’t buy us wins on competition night. The air conditioning is a reminder to keep working hard.”

  “Shitty fuckin’ lesson,” I groan. “Has anyone ever died from heat stroke in your gym? Because I think my end is coming.”

  She snorts. “No, drama queen. We’re athletes, we do the right amount of work, in the right sequences, we drink water, and we rest when we’re supposed to.”

  “And if I happened to buy an air conditioner and roll it in here…?”

  “We’d roll it straight back out, Mr. Moneybags, with you sitting on it, and a rocket strapped to your ass, so stop bitching.”

  I lay back on the canvas until my feverish skin sticks to the floor, and as my heart slams against my chest so hard that I see the movement, I sigh. “You guys ever swim at the lake in the summer?”

  “All the time,” she answers easily. “It’s the perfect lake, too. Deep in some spots, so the water is colder. Shallow in other spots, so the water can be a little warmer for the small kids. There are no waves, no sneaky holes to fall into. The water isn’t clear, but it’s not dirty either. And even though the pier is falling apart, it’s the perfect place for making out and sneaky sex.”

  “Not that you’d have any experience with that.”

  “No way,” she laughs. “Ask my daddy, I’m a good girl.”

  “Any plans for a lake weekend coming up soon?”

  She shrugs and tips a little water over her hair. “It’s a big lake, Will. You don’t have to make an appointment. You just drive out there and dive in.”

  “Right…” I turn my head and study her in profile. “But do you have any family plans to go swimming at the lake any time soon?”

  She continues to look ahead, but her lips creep up. “Family, as in, my sister-in-law?”

  “Well, actually, I was hoping to see Ben in a bikini. It’s been a dream of mine, so…”

  She snorts and squirts water across my face. “I hadn’t made any plans. But I guess I’m free next weekend. I could maybe plant some seeds and see who turns up.”

  “Even if it’s certain I would take a chunk out of her?”

  Evie shrugs and drinks the last dregs of water from her bottle. “She’s a grown woman, Will. Twenty-five, dating, I’m fairly certain she’s not even a virgin. She’s smart, she’s witty, and she can disable an attacker with two fingers and a piece of gum.”

  “Sounds… odd. Any relation to MacGyver?”

  “Possibly. I’m not going to stand in front of her and act as another guard like Oz and Ben and every other man in this gym. But I will stand behind her, and I’ll step forward if she’s ever in need of help.”

  “Does she wear a one-piece?”

  Laughing and shaking her head, Evie pushes to her knees, then to her feet. “I’m absolutely not telling you. But you should also be aware, if I set this up and invite her along, it’s fairly likely Brenten will come too. She’s happy with him, she likes him. There’s no reason she wouldn’t bring him.”

  I make the psht sound in the back of my throat. “Nobody could be happy with that cardboard box. What she is, is comfortable.”

  “You literally don’t even know him.” She turns back to me and offers both hands to pull me up. “You’ve said two words to him ever. He could be her prince, Will, but you’re not willing to look.”

  “That’s because I’m busy looking at her.” I stand tall and release her hands. “She’s so pretty.”

  Evie rolls her eyes and turns away to collect her Thai pads. “Gee, where have I heard that before? Let’s go.” She lifts the pads. “Let’s start again. Then we’ll hook up with Ben and the others and work through a little ground game.”

  Two sweaty hours after walking into the Rollin On Gym, and an hour of rolling on the mats with Ben Conner and trying my damn best not to ask him for permission to ask Olivia out to dinner, I make my way to the locker rooms and step under an icy cold shower.

  I feel like I have fire in my veins and sparks under my skin, so even the cold water feels warm, but I press my hands to the tiled wall and close my eyes, and for several minutes, I simply let the shower cascade over my face and shoulders.

  It’s not yet lunchtime, which means I have loads of my day left to go back to Quinn’s house and chill out, and despite my bitching on the canvas, all of my sweating seems to have detoxed my body of the hangover I woke with. I’m still thirsty, but my headache is gone, as is my roiling stomach, my bad mood. In its place, dumps of adrenaline and endorphins circulate through my blood and make me smile.

  When guilt creeps in about wasting water, I slap the taps and turn it off, then I snag the towel from where I left it hanging on the wall, and go to work drying off. I do my best to mop the water from my skin, but in this summer heat, I have to acknowledge I’ll never truly be dry.

  Tossing my towel aside, I spray a little deodorant under my arms and shrug into a tank. Boxers. Shorts. Stepping out of the stall and into the communal area of the locker room, I sit on the bench seat and pull on a pair of socks and my sneakers. It’s too damn hot for shoes, but I can’t go without, so I huff my way through the routine, and when I’m done, I stand again, toss my shit into my gym bag, and zip it up.

  My phone rings, and because I’ve set certain contacts up with their own ringtone, my body turns tense in a moment. A new dump of adrenaline zooms through my blood, a new wave of energy pushes my pulse faster.

  I glance around the empty locker room to make sure I’m alone, then grab the phone and accept the call. “Yeah?”

  “I need you over by the steel mill tonight at eleven. Dress casual, take cash, and if you run into any trouble, get lost.”

  “Who am I meeting?”

  “A guy by the name of Ripley. He oughtta be two-twenty, six-two, scar on his jaw, tattoo on his left hand.”

  “Oughtta be?” I whip back. “You don’t know? What the fuck?”

  “I’m doing my best, okay? You want contacts, you wanna know where to go, I’m trying to hook you up.”

  “And is he gonna narc?”

  My caller goes quiet for a moment, only to settle on, “I don’t think so. But to get what you want, sometimes you’ve gotta take risks.”

  You know what, I don–”

  I cut my words off with a gargle when a guy walks through the locker room doors. Years of experience and living hard has me instinctively huddling in and shutting my trap, but it becomes so much worse when that someone is a cop.

  Officer Oscar ‘Oz’ Franks. Olivia’s stepfather, the guy who already tried to arrest me once.

  “Alright.” I glance down at my bag – I look anywhere but at the cop – and murmur, “I’ll be there. I’ll call you later.”

  “Yeah, bye.”

  The call goes dead, so I slide my phone into my pocket and yank my bag closed with my other hand. I don�
�t want to chat with this dude – ever – so I keep my eyes to myself and make my way past him to the door.

  “Wait a minute.” Oz drops his hand onto my shoulder and pushes me back until I slam against the frame of the doorway. He’s not a small guy, and he works out, and then there was that one time he aimed a fucking gun at my face. “What was that?”

  I scowl and square my shoulders. Maybe he’s a cop, and maybe he ain’t small, but I’m bigger, badder, and I’m not running anymore. “What was what?”

  Whiskey eyes and a deep olive tan from his Latin roots and the summer sun, this motherfucker curls his lip up and sneers, “Hanging up when I come into the locker room is a suspicious thing to do. You got something to hide?”

  “Pretty sure every man in this country is entitled to their privacy, Officer.” I flick his hand off my shoulder and step forward so he’s forced to move back. “I want no beef with the local cops. I just want a quiet life now that the… other stuff is behind us.”

  “The other stuff?” he questions. “You mean the time you were on the run for killing a man?”

  “I didn’t kill him.” I killed another man as a result of the first accusation, but still. “I did not kill Nate Hardy. You know that for a fact. You heard McGrady admit it himself.”

  “Maybe.” He brings his hand up and reaffirms his grip on my shoulder. “I also saw you execute a man right in front of my eyes.”

  “Self-defense. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  I turn away, and push into the hallway with my bag securely on my shoulder, only to skid to a stop when Olivia steps out of the locker room across the hall.

  She stops with a startled gasp. Her eyes widen and flicker over my face, and her hands come up to grab at the straps of her bag she has slung across her body. “Um…”

  “Olivia.”

  She swallows, and licks her lips. But whether she intends to chat or not, I’ll never know, because then her eyes go to my right shoulder and widen a little more.

  I look behind me and find her big, bad, protective stepdaddy standing over me like he’s about to throw down with an axe.