She leaned on the counter with both elbows and deliberately stared straight into Zyah’s eyes. “Have you ever done that? Been with a woman and a man? Or been with two men? I’ll bet Player’s shared a woman. And I’ll bet he’s had more than two women plenty of times. Ask him. I dare you. Text him right now and ask him. Ask him if he wants to party with the both of us tonight. We can go to his clubhouse.”
Francine’s face took on a greedy, almost obscene look of grasping glee. “You know how he got his name, right? Player? Did he ever tell you? Because I know how he did. Heidi told me. He took a bet one night from the others that he could do fifty women and they’d all call him back wanting more. They made the mistake of not making a rule that it had to be one woman at a time. He’s that damn good, but you already know that, don’t you?” She licked her lips, her eyes bright. “Come on, Zyah, you must have shared before. If you haven’t, there’s no hope in hell of keeping a man like that.”
Zyah ignored the way her heart reacted. She knew Player wasn’t like that. She’d been in his mind too many times, but she also had seen some of the parties in his head, those women all over him. Sometimes, like in that one little moment, it was difficult to push the images away. She kept her expression perfectly serene, a gift from the years of working overseas. She snapped her fingers.
“Let me have the car keys, Francine. I’ll close the store and we’ll head over to Crow 287. Player can stay with Mama Anat tonight. I don’t like leaving her alone. You probably don’t remember, but she was beaten pretty severely in that robbery, and she’s nervous. He said no problem. He’s got his guitar, so he’s happy.”
The door to the grocery store swung open, and Perry Randall sauntered in. Zyah tried not to react with a sigh, but the night was getting worse by the minute. Perry was dressed to go out, in slacks, a silk shirt, a dinner jacket. Nice shoes. His clothes cost more than her car. He dragged off his dark sunglasses, which, since it was already growing dark outside, he really didn’t need, and his gaze immediately took in both women. He whistled.
“Why would I give you my keys?” Francine snapped, fury building in her eyes. “You’re such a little prude, Zyah. You always were.” She whirled around at the sound of the appreciative whistle, and at once the expression on her face changed. Color swept into her cheeks, and she pushed her blond hair back to show off the earrings.
“Ladies. I can see I’m in luck tonight,” Perry greeted.
Francine tossed her head flirtatiously. “I think you are, Perry. It has been a hot minute since I’ve seen you, and you’re looking fine.”
“Not so bad yourself, Francine,” Perry returned, winking. “Zyah. Came to take you out to dinner. You have to be closing, right?”
Francine spun around to glare at Zyah. “That’s just great. You have two dates.”
“I’m going to dinner with you, Francine,” Zyah reminded. She was so tired she wanted to curl up on the floor and go to sleep right there. “Hand me your car keys. I’ll drive.”
“Fuck you, I’m not giving you my car keys. And I’m not going to dinner with you. You can go with Player and Perry.” Francine stuck her chin in the air.
“I’m going home,” Zyah said, “but you’re not driving. Hand me the keys.” She kept her voice even and quiet, knowing the battle was going to escalate now. Francine hadn’t gotten her way. She was certain both Player and Perry were after Zyah. She was going to be as destructive as possible. “Perry, if you’re looking for a dinner date, Francine is so gorgeous tonight. We were going out together, but I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open.”
Perry’s insolent gaze, as it ran up and down Francine, set Zyah’s teeth on edge. “You do look amazing, Francine,” he agreed. “But I want a sure thing tonight. Seriously. The last time we went out, you bailed on me at the last minute. That wasn’t cool.”
Zyah could hardly believe what she’d just heard. She wanted to throw something at his head. Perry was an arrogant little ass.
“That wasn’t my fault, and you know it, Perry. I got sick. I was sick.” Francine sounded like a child defending herself.
Zyah was instantly angry, something very rare for her. She leaned across the counter. “You have my phone number, Francine. You have the right to say no to anyone at any time for any reason. You call me and I’ll come get you. Perry, you continue to amaze me with just how disgusting you truly can be.”
“You still living with your parents, Perry?” Francine asked. “Because I’m living with my grandmother.” Francine pulled her phone out and was texting. “I’m just letting her know I’ll be late. Maybe you should tell your parents you’ll be out most of the night—or all night.” She sounded seductive.
Perry grinned at her. “I have my own house on the property. I don’t stay in the main house with them. They would make me crazy. They whine at me.” He switched his attention to Zyah. “I’m beginning to give up on you, babe. Francine may be right. You could be a prude. We could have had fun. Come on, Francine. Let’s go.”
“I’ll meet you there.” Francine glared at Zyah defiantly.
Zyah sighed. She was so tired she wanted to yell at both of them to just get out. “Hand over the car keys, Francine. I mean it. You’ve had too much to drink and your license was yanked for DUI already. You’ve got no business driving.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Francine taunted.
Behind Perry and Francine, Destroyer and Keys emerged from the center aisle, almost as if they were ghosts. There was no sound, they just suddenly were there. Two very intimidating men.
“Give her the keys,” Destroyer said, his voice low and harsh. “Do it now.”
Francine whirled around so fast she nearly fell. Perry backed toward the door, his fingers closing convulsively around his sunglasses. “Give her the keys, Francine, and let’s go,” he said.
Francine fished in her purse, found the keys and flung them at Zyah. Hard. The keys struck Zyah just above her left breast, stinging her. Looking smug, giggling with satisfaction, Francine hurried to follow Perry out of the store as Zyah put her hand over the keys to keep them from falling to the floor.
“You all right?” Keys asked.
Zyah blinked back tears, turning to watch as Francine walked toward Perry’s low-slung vehicle. She turned away more so that neither man could see she was emotional than for any other reason. She really didn’t care to see that Perry didn’t even bother to open the door for Francine. She already knew he was a first-class jerk. Francine could barely stand on her own, and when she bent to get into the car, she nearly crawled inside.
“Yeah, I’m just really tired. I want to go home and take a hot bath and go to bed.”
“We don’t do that shit, you know. None of us,” Keys said, his voice very quiet.
Zyah turned back to him because he was very sober. Very sincere. Whatever he was trying to convey was important. And he was being truthful.
“I’m sorry?”
“We don’t make bets like that bitch was telling you. That’s not how Player got his name. She was making shit up. We aren’t like that.”
She flashed him a wan smile. “I’m well aware she is totally full of shit, Keys.” Because she’d been in Player’s mind too many times. She had no idea how he got his name, but she did know it wasn’t the way Francine had told her he had.
“Come on, kid, get your shoes on and let’s get the hell out of this place. Cash out. We’ll do the rest.”
“I can’t leave Lizz’s car here. I’ll drive it to her house. I’ll need a ride home after. I’d walk, but I’m too tired tonight.”
Keys and Destroyer exchanged a long look. Destroyer shrugged. “No worries, we’re following you anyway.”
“I never thought I’d be driving a pink Cadillac,” Zyah said as she went back to work.
“Better you than me,” Keys muttered under his breath. “For a minute there, I was
sweatin’ it.”
Destroyer raised an eyebrow. “I was looking forward to it. Kind of thought I’d look cool. Thought maybe I’d ask the old lady if she needed someone to take it around the block once in a while.”
Zyah burst out laughing. “You’re kind of crazy.”
“Yeah, you got that right,” Keys said, but he flashed a small, appreciative smile at Destroyer. The two went about putting things away and locking up while she cashed out completely, taking the money to the back. Ordinarily, she might have put it in the heavy vault, but since the robberies, the money was turned over to her Torpedo Ink escorts, so she was never responsible for it. In the morning, they brought the money needed for start-up.
Just getting into the pink Cadillac should have made her smile. The car was polished and pristine, inside and out, just the way Lizz Johnson kept it. A dark dread crept over her, just as it had in the store, making her feel tired and depressed. She wanted Mama Anat. Just to lie on the bed with her the way she had when she was a child and be comforted by her.
Her grandmother would stroke her hair and make that wonderful trilling sound that vibrated through the room and then turned into a hum that filled her with joy. She would know the world was right. Balanced. That was what she needed. The world to stop being off-kilter. It felt that way. As if she’d walked into a storm and the earth had spun wrong, shifting off its axis just enough to throw her off balance.
Once the Cadillac was safely tucked away in its home in the garage at the Johnson home, she gave the keys to Lizz at the door, trying her best to pretend not to see the tears as she hugged her. Francine had clearly taken the car without permission, although Lizz didn’t admit it. Her shock was enough to give the truth away. Zyah debated for a moment whether or not to mention the jewelry, but she didn’t want Lizz to have a heart attack if she discovered it missing. She casually brought it up, saying she thought Francine looked gorgeous on her date with Perry, wearing the blue diamond star necklace and earrings. Lizz paled visibly. She gripped her bathrobe tightly and then nodded, thanking Zyah, kissing her on both cheeks and telling her to give Anat her love.
Zyah had barely registered the sound of the approaching motorcycle during her conversation with Lizz, her heart was so heavy. She turned and he was there. Just standing there. Tall. Broad shoulders. Wild hair. Those blue eyes focused completely on her. She took one step into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Home. Player felt like home to her. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the feeling because she desperately needed comfort.
“Something’s wrong, Player.”
His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her to him, fingers massaging her scalp. “Let’s get you home, baby. Hot bath. Relax. We’ll talk it out. Figure out what’s wrong together. We’re getting good at that. Or you can sleep for a while. I’ll stay awake and watch over you so nothing can go wrong. Either way, we’ll figure it out.”
His voice was magic. Soothing. He was so tuned to her. She wanted to just stay there in his arms, feeling safe, although her feet hurt. Maybe he could pick her up.
“Let’s get you home. I brought you a jacket and gloves to wear.” Player brushed a kiss on top of her head and then tucked her under his shoulder as they walked together to his motorcycle.
“Keys or Destroyer called you.” She looked up at him. At his jaw. So strong. She needed him to be strong when she felt everything was dark and wrong. She touched his jaw, ran the pads of her fingers over the strong bones.
“They were worried about you. They worry, I worry. You should have called me, Zyah. I would have come to you.”
“What would I have said? ‘I have this bad feeling’? ‘Francine upset me’? ‘She brought this dark cloud and I can’t shrug it off’?” She pressed her face against his chest again, borrowing his strength, because the lurching inside her made her physically ill. “Something is really wrong, and I should know what it is. It was right there in front of me, Player. Right there. I had it and it slipped away from me. Francine slipped away too. For one moment I saw her. The girl she was back when we were children and her mother was alive. Her mother was so awful.”
Player tipped her face up and brushed her eyes with kisses, her nose and then the corners of her mouth. “You’re so beautiful, Zyah. Inside, where it counts. You hurt because you see the good in people. You see it in us the way Blythe does. You see with different eyes than most. I love you for that. One of the million things I love about you, but that particular trait stands out. I love you. I do. You don’t have to accept that. Or hear that. But I don’t think there’s another woman on this earth that can measure up to you.”
His voice was soft. A mere whisper of sound. Barely there. That declaration. She almost thought he hadn’t said it. I love you for that. I love you. I do. He’d said it. His voice might have been low and tender, but it held honesty. She didn’t have to be barefoot.
He terrified her. After pushing her away for so long, he’d just capitulated and wanted to be with her. Accepted her. He thought he loved her, but his reasons weren’t really the right ones. Were they? She was so confused and mixed up. But right now she didn’t care, she just wanted to be near him. And she wanted to go home, where she could see her grandmother was safe, because she felt edgy and a little scared.
“Who’s with Mama Anat?”
Player shook out a heavy jacket, holding it so that she could put her arms in it. He zipped it up and handed her gloves. “Savage and Maestro. Trust me, no one will get near her with those two in the house, and you know there’s always someone outside, unseen.”
He swung onto the motorcycle with his casual, fluid grace. Every time she saw him do that, her stomach did a slow somersault. She put her hand on his shoulder and knew he could feel her trembling. She hadn’t acknowledged his declaration. Had she hurt him? If she had, he hadn’t showed it. He hadn’t changed expression or treated her differently. When she put her arms around him, he locked her even tighter to him. She wanted to melt into him. She pressed her hands against his abdomen, all those muscles she knew were beneath his jacket and shirt. She knew if she took her glove off and slid her bare hand under his clothes, he wouldn’t object. He’d probably just press her palm closer to his skin.
The bike roared between her legs. Player’s body was warm. There was comfort in just riding with him, which she’d never thought would ever happen, being on the back of a Harley late at night. They didn’t go fast because this was Sea Haven and it was late. Destroyer and Keys rode behind them. She realized that ever since she’d started working for them, she’d been absolutely safe. So had Anat. She knew Lizz was safe. Someone watched her house. Inez was safe. The Dardens were looked after. Torpedo Ink was stretched thin trying to watch over them, and she feared there were a few people who would be more afraid if they saw the bikers close in the middle of the night.
She waited as he put his Harley in the garage, lifting a hand to his brothers as they rode away. She almost hated to see the two men go. That dread in her hadn’t left. It stayed right there, in the pit of her stomach. She actually pressed her hand there while she waited to walk into the house with Player.
“I need to see Mama Anat,” she whispered. “She usually stays up waiting for me.”
“I know, she’ll be semi-awake. I played for her until Destroyer and Keys let me know you were upset. She was falling asleep then, but she resists until she knows you’re inside. I should never have admitted to her that someone tried to kidnap you, but I didn’t want to lie to her, and she asked me straight out.”
“She would have known you were lying,” Zyah assured. “She always knew when I didn’t tell the truth when I was a child growing up. I couldn’t get away with anything. Not that I wanted to. I loved her so much that I couldn’t bear to do anything that might disappoint or hurt her. I never could understand Francine and how wild she got when Lizz would be so worried about her. Lizz was so good to her, and Francine would just d
o these horrible things. The cops would pick her up and drag her home from parties and warn Lizz that they’d take her away, but that never stopped Francine.”
Player helped her out of the jacket and hung it just inside the door, slipping the extra pair of gloves inside his pocket. He followed her down the hall to her grandmother’s room. As always, there wasn’t a whisper of sound when he walked, even in his motorcycle boots. How did he do that? His hand was on the small of her back. Warm. No, hot. She felt his palm like a brand.
“Zyah?” Anat called out as she stood in the doorway.
“I’m home, Mama Anat,” she said. Love flooded her. Warmth. Just as she had known they would. She went straight to her grandmother, inhaling her scent. Jasmine. Lavender. The scent of love. “Are you all right? Did you look after all the bad boys today?”
Anat laughed softly, the sound so like beautiful music Zyah wanted to weep. She took her grandmother’s hand as she brushed kisses on her cheek, needing to be close to her.
“They aren’t so bad.”
“They’re very bad,” Zyah corrected, “especially this one right here. Don’t let their charm fool you.” She jerked her thumb toward Player. “I’m going to take a long, hot bath. You go to sleep. I’m home safe now.” She wished her heart didn’t feel so heavy. Even now, surrounded by the two people she loved most in the world, her heart ached.
“I love you, girl.”
“I love you too.”
Player reached around her to take her hand and tug until she reluctantly let go of her grandmother’s hand and let him lead her out of the bedroom. She just followed him up the stairs. That was how tired she was.
“I stopped by the Floating Hat in Sea Haven today and picked up some things for you,” he said, his voice that same low, gentle, oh-so-casual sound that brushed through her mind with velvet strokes. “I think they’ll be just the thing to help combat the fatigue tonight. Put your hair up, baby. I’ll run your bath. Hannah, the owner, suggested some bath products when I told her you’re on your feet all day. She gave me some lotions and creams for your feet and legs. We can try them when you get out.”
Reckless Road Page 31