Call My Bluff: A Las Vegas Themed Anthology

by Elizabeth Knox

  “You couldn’t have asked me first?” she asked, trying to wrap her head around what she should do— leave Devin.

  “You would’ve said no.”

  “If you thought I would’ve said no, you should have respected that and leave it be, not secretly track my every move! Better yet, you could’ve informed me that not only are you in danger working undercover, but I am, too.”

  “You’re not in danger,” he gritted, then cursed. “Not too much danger. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m going to get to the bottom of how you got an invitation.”

  “Your spy games had nothing to do with this case, so don’t hand me that bullshit.”

  “Is it so bad that I was concerned about you and our daughters?”

  “If you were so concerned, you would’ve taken a job that kept you at home with us. Instead, Fitzgerald Bradshaw, you’ve been traipsing all over with another woman. Spending our anniversary with her.”

  “Goddamnit, you know why I did it. I’ve already explained the situation to you. Missing one fucking anniversary isn’t the end of the world, Grell.”

  “Maybe not,” she said bitterly. “But when you’ve missed birthdays and holidays, it becomes a trend that I want no part of.” She threw her hands up in the air, tired of the charade. “Why don’t you admit it, Devin? You didn’t give a fuck what day it was. You didn’t marry me out of any love. It was guilt because I was pregnant, and you knew Amory would’ve insisted you marry me.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she swiped them angrily away. It was easy to keep the reality of her marriage buried deep inside of her, where pain only bubbled to the surface in times like these. “Everything you’ve ever done for me has been because of your loyalty to my brother.”

  He took in her face, then turned and went back to the bathroom. When he came out a couple of minutes later, he had his shoes on and Grell was sitting in the chair.

  “I’ve hurt you so many times over the years,” Devin started, not coming any closer. He hid in the shadows of the room. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I’ll start with this.” He moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed closest to her and taking her hands in his. “I should’ve showed more consideration to your concerns. Yes, I married you . . .” He looked away and drew in a deep breath. “Our marriage didn’t begin for the right reasons, Grell,” he whispered, staring into her eyes, the earnestness in his blue gaze transfixing her. “But I can’t imagine anyone else as the mother of my children. I can’t see myself as anyone else’s husband. You and Jo are alike, and yet so different. You don’t always have to do. You are content to just be. Thoughts of you keep me steady.”

  She waited with bated breath, his words touching her core and filling her with hope that he’d tell her the one thing he never had— that he loved her. That he was in love with her.

  “I told you to get out of town,” he continued, with a disappointing change of subject, “and you did. You trusted me enough to not need a lengthy explanation. I wonder if you even questioned yourself as to why you took off with only my demand to go.”

  “You are no-nonsense,” she told him. “If you thought we were in danger, then I believe that to be true. And this is what I mean. If you would’ve told me about the trackers and the reason why you wanted them, I would’ve eventually consented. It is just so . . .” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged. “I know next to nothing about your activity. Your location.”

  He dropped her hands and cupped her chin. “And yet that didn’t matter to you when it came time to leave. Why? Because we’re a team,” he said fiercely. “You and me and Hope and Bella. I can do my job because you’re the rock of our family.” He tugged her head down and kissed her lips. “I don’t want to lose that. It’s as much because Amory warned me away from you years ago— confirmed bachelor that I was— and I broke that promise to him.”

  Amory. It was always Amory.

  “One day, on patrol, we talked about what we wanted in the event of our deaths. He made me promise that I’d look after you and make sure you didn’t end up with an asshole.” His lips curled into his movie star grin. “Sorry for not keeping that last request.”

  She smiled at his self-deprecation and thumbed his lips.

  “He was killed eleven days later. If I was devastated, I couldn’t imagine how you felt. My girlfriend at the time tried to be there for me. But the only person in the world who I knew would understand my grief was you.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “I suppose if my brother hadn’t been killed, we wouldn’t have ended up together.” She glanced away. “I want to say that’s a trade-off I could live with, but then I wouldn’t have Hope and Bella.”

  He kissed her again, then stood and backed away. He was preparing to leave once again. “Something else would’ve brought us together,” he said with certainty. “We’re meant to be together. Please, don’t give up on us. On me.”

  A flush swept through her. Devin knew her so well.

  “You were never gifted with a poker face,” he teased.

  She laughed. “So, you’ve told me time after time.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but his ringing cell phone interrupted whatever he’d been about to say.

  “Fuck,” he said under his breath, then turned his back to her and answered. “Let me call you back.” Laughter rumbled from him, the sound one that Grell loved to hear. “You have something good for me, do you?”

  Devin’s amused words stripped away the small moment of peace she felt in the wake of their conversation. She jumped up, marched to him, and grabbed the phone. She pressed the ‘end’ button, then slammed the device against his chest.

  “Get out,” she ordered.

  “Grell, I am always available to Jo. She would think it strange if I didn’t answer her now.”

  “Go, Devin. I’m going to wake the girls and get them dressed and fed, so we can continue on to Reno.”

  “You’re going all the way there?”

  “You told me to go on the run. To me, as much distance between me and whatever the threat is as possible is a good thing.”

  “Don’t give up on me. On our marriage.”

  Grell scowled at him for the whispered plea. Their relationship might be too damaged to save. But what could she do right now? Walk away while he was in the middle of a case? How would that affect him? She didn’t want their problems to interfere with his work. To stay focused— and as safe as possible— he needed a clear mind.

  She thought about their desperate lovemaking. Sex just served as a momentary balm. Once it ended, their problems still hung between them.

  His phone dinged. “Text message coming through,” he announced, holding it up. He punched in a code to unlock it, then pressed the message button. Eyes widening, he sucked in a breath and began to stuff the phone in his pocket.

  His reaction intrigued Grell. She grabbed the phone from him and was greeted by a close-up of wet, red pussy lips. He cleared his throat, then plucked the phone out of her hand.

  “I have to get going. I will get to Reno as soon as possible. Maybe, we can have a longer sex session than just a few stolen moments in a bathroom.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” she snapped. “You’ve been telling me not to give up on you and you’re getting photos of another woman’s cunt!”

  He winced. “The case will soon be over, then we can go away and reconnect and after we’re all humped out, we can have a long heart-to-heart. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds as if you’ve been drinking jackass juice. If you think I’ll sleep with you . . .” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. “You know what? Dumb ass that I am, I want our marriage to work. Right now, I seriously hate that I love you, but I do. However, I can’t have sex with you anymore. I can’t have you dropping in for a quick screw and then fleeing just as swiftly. I won’t give up on you, but I’m not fucking you for the rest of this year.” As a matter of fact . . . “Keeping my legs closed to you is my New Year’s resolution. If we have
worked out our problems by our next anniversary, then I’ll sleep with you again. If not . . .” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  She didn’t even want to think it.

  “Your resolution is not to fuck me for a goddamn year?” he snarled in outrage.

  “Did I stutter? I can’t do this anymore, Devin. I can’t allow you to continue to have booty calls with me.”

  “A . . .what the fuck? You’re my wife. There’s no fucking way I can have a booty call with you. I know you’re angry about this text, but you’re overreacting.”

  “And you’re an asshole, so we’re even.”

  He must’ve seen her determination in her face because his eyes widened. “My god! You’re serious. You really mean . . . you’re keeping your pussy to yourself.” Bewilderment rang in his tone.

  She nodded, satisfied with her plan. “During this year, I want us to work on our marital issues. We’re going to set clear boundaries.”

  His jaw clenched. “Is this some sort of test or punishment?” he finally demanded.

  “Nope. I see it as I labeled it. As my New Year’s resolution and a way to work on our marriage. You can call it what you want, Devin.”

  “I know we need to work on our marriage but is counseling not enough?”

  “Let’s forget the pussy picture for a moment. Did you ever intend to tell me you bought tracking devices to know my every move?”

  He looked away from her, his sudden silence a clear answer.

  “Of course, you didn’t,” she said, answering her own question. “So no, Devin, marriage counseling is not enough. Not when you violated my privacy.”

  “It was to keep you and the girls safe.”

  “I appreciate that, but why couldn’t you have asked me first, or told me about it when you first did it?”

  He studied her a moment, then nodded and sighed. “All right, Grell.”

  “All right, then,” she echoed, not knowing what else to say.

  His ringing phone broke the quietness.

  Sighing, Devin looked at the screen, then raised his gaze to her. “I have to go, Grell.”

  “Of course, you do,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words as he answered the phone.

  “Hey, baby,” he started, heading to the door and exiting without looking back, leaving Grell alone, and once again feeling hurt and angry.

  Chapter Seven

  Devin

  Jo’s apartment door swung open right as Devin was going to knock. “Hey, babe. I’ve been standing by the door waiting for you, since security called and asked were you allowed up,” she greeted, her smile frisky, blocking his entry. “What took you so long?”

  Driving from Tonopah and back to Summerlin took over three hours. Not that he’d mention that to Jo. He’d pretend to misunderstand her, remind her that he was familiar with her building since he’d been there so many times before. “You live in the penthouse, and I had two elevator changes. They’re not all that fast.”

  “You should’ve used my private elevator,” she said, then scrunched her nose. “But I wasn’t referring to the time it took you to get to my floor. I meant the time it took you to get here, to my apartment. Where were you?”

  Irritation surged into Devin at the suspicion lacing her voice. “I was taking care of some business,” he said flatly. “Are you going to let me into your apartment, or should I leave? I’m tired of standing in this hallway.”

  Jo stared at him a moment, then yawned and stretched with high drama. “I must’ve fallen asleep again. Waiting for you left me bored and restless.” She glanced at him through her lashes, still not allowing him over the threshold of her door.

  It was obvious she hadn’t just awakened. Her hazel eyes were clear, not fogged with sleep. Years of being with Grell allowed him to know the difference between actual messy hair and intentional messy hair, and Jo currently had the latter. She had on natural makeup, and if it wasn’t for her freckles being hidden and slightly glossed lips, he wouldn’t be able to tell she had any on. She stood in nothing but a hot pink mesh teddy with a matching sheer robe that covered nothing. Devin instantly realized that her urgent call to him was only a guise to seduce him.

  Devin sighed, thoughts of Grell running through his mind. Jo’s antics tested his patience. He’d thought his brain might explode when he’d seen the range of emotions on her face. The sadness and resentment settling into her features at the end of whatever she’d been thinking, gave him an idea of where she was heading.

  He couldn’t see them separated. He wouldn’t allow that to happen. Some kind of way, he had to bring this case to a conclusion. Not wanting to get himself killed, he’d gone about the infiltration carefully. To end it, though, with the indictments he wanted handed down, he had to find the evidence to use against them.

  Here and there, he’d witnessed Gabiano and some of the other bodyguards beating the shit out of someone. Sometimes, Clemente joined in. As far as he knew, their victims all survived. At most, Clemente and his crew would’ve been handed assault and battery charges.

  Jo sighed. “I’m waiting for you to kiss me, Fitz. That’s the key to entering my humble abode.”

  Humble, huh? His ass. If the art deco style lobby wasn’t a giveaway that her apartment was anything but humble, living in the penthouse with a private elevator hit the jackpot.

  “You don’t want to kiss me?” she pressed, her brow furrowing.

  Sure didn’t.

  His conversation with her brother came back to him. Jo and Devin had never discussed fucking beyond discussing the importance of his Catholicism, her dissatisfaction with their relationship went deeper than he’d first imagined.

  “I’m all grimy and need to brush my teeth. Give me a voucher to cash in later.”

  Anger flashed into her face before she covered it with a smile. “At least give me a proper greeting. You haven’t even told me ‘hello’.”

  “Hey, Jo,” he greeted, cursing himself for even picking up her call. The time that was about to be wasted could’ve been spent with Grell, Hope and Bella. They hadn’t been awake to see him, so they’d missed his visit. He noticed Jo’s narrowed eyes and cleared his throat. “Hello, Josephine.”

  Uncertainty dropped into her features at his bland welcome, but she finally stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. “Where are my manners? Come in, Fitz.”

  When he entered the small foyer of her apartment, he managed to rein in his snort. Humble? If white marbled walls and floors and huge pictures of golden-age Hollywood celebrities could be counted as humble, then he had nothing to say.

  A large fluffy pink rug covered most of the entryway’s marbled floor, while the matching ottomans stood against one of the walls. On each side of the sliding doors opened to her living room were two large fake white and pink flowers. Marbled walls and floors featured everywhere in the apartment, except either of her two bedrooms. Jo’s over-the-top foyer reflected the rest of her apartment, which was very large, lavish, and pink. Her floor had three apartments, including hers. Although it was one level under the penthouse, there was still a private elevator to obtain access. Seeing Josephine’s apartment, Devin could only wonder what that looked like, and how extravagant it was.

  “Why’d you call me so early this morning, Jo?”

  She shrugged. “I’m going to be occupied with other things for later this evening and most of tomorrow. I wanted to spend some time together now. You’re always up early, so I don’t see the problem.”

  Devin ignored the challenge in her tone. She was behaving oddly, with a combativeness that wasn’t her usual style. He supposed her frustration with their sex life coupled with the appearance of his “cousin” at the party annoyed her. And, perhaps, made her question his loyalty to her. Or it might have something to do with whatever she was involved in. He had to leave his problems in the foyer, so he could get back on track. After allowing too many minutes to pass, he looked at her. “What are you going to be doing?”

  Another shrug. “Famil
y stuff.”

  “Care to be more detailed?” Usually, she was very forthcoming with her whereabouts, since she always questioned his. “Saying family stuff is quite fucking vague.” And, probably, code for some illicit activities.

  “Don’t worry about what I’ll be doing, Fitz. It’s just a family tradition.” She waved her hand in the air, her signal of dismissal. “I want us to have dinner with your cousin,” she announced.

  He snapped his brows together, used to her subject changes but extremely concerned on the matter she’d switched to. “What?”

  Her smile resembled the Cheshire cat’s. “You heard me.”

  “Jo, I don’t think—"

  “I don’t care what you think, Fitzgerald. You know most of my family, including my brother, a few cousins and some uncles. Not only don’t I know any of your relatives, you barely discuss them. Her,” she sneered. “Since you grew up in foster care.”

  He drew her into his arms and combed his fingers through her hair. “Don’t be jealous of Iloria.”

  “Have you ever fucked her?”

  “No!” he growled, releasing Jo and scowling at her. “I’m not even sure where she’s staying or how she found me.” Truth rang in his voice. “There are a couple of old acquaintances I could look up, to see if she’s staying with any of them, but really, why bring up old memories? That part of my life is behind me.”

  “I know that, Fitz. And I’m sad about your miserable childhood. Yet, you’ve never mentioned Iloria. You consider her your only relative, right?”

  He nodded in confirmation, his muscles tensing in agitation. Grell was already entangled in his mission, on the run with his kids. While the case was important to him, he didn’t want to risk his family’s lives. It was meant not to complicate it and not to risk her life.

  Josephine wanting to have dinner with Grell seemed odd and complicated the situation tenfold. Alarm bells rang in his head.

  “You should cherish the one familial bond you have,” Jo continued, sweet and accommodating, although she still confined him to the foyer. “You two are close enough that she secured an invitation to Clem’s private party to celebrate a holiday with you. Dinner shouldn’t be so bad.”