by Cara Dee
Talk about different from what I was used to.
Upon seeing a small cardboard box on the coffee table, I walked straight over there and picked it up. A courier from the Venetian must’ve been here already. I tore off the packing tape with their logo on it and sat down on the couch.
Soon I learned that I owed Laney a lot more than dinner.
I’d helped her get away from an abusive son of a bitch of a boyfriend one time, and ever since, she’d gone above and beyond to help me if work brought me to her backyard on the Strip.
This time, aside from details about the reservation, I’d asked for insider tips that would give me a starting point from which I could get my hands on several things on my list, and it turned out she’d done most of it herself. I picked out several keycards, four ID tags, instructions, information about the suites, the housekeeping service’s general schedule, some warnings and precautions I could take into consideration, and the reservation with all the details.
Last but not least, the employee information about the man from Hospitality that I needed to get close to at some point. He’d be in charge of the Langes’ comfort during their stay, so he’d know all about preferences and comps.
A door opened down the hall, and I looked up just as Boone came out of the bathroom. Oh, fuck you, big brother. I’d forgotten this part about living with him. Shameless motherfucker. Not that I possessed an ounce of shame either, but he wasn’t queer. It didn’t matter to him if I stepped out of the shower glistening wet with nothing but a towel around my hips.
He wasn’t small anywhere. He was softness and power wrapped up in one. Defined pecs, biceps, broad shoulders, thick fucking thighs, a stomach made of steel…and then some cushion from the fast food he loved. Add the biggest heart, a charismatic grin, and blue eyes that sometimes flashed with the devil inside him, and…yeah.
There was no grin on his face now, though. As soon as he lowered the towel he’d used to run over his hair and beard, all I saw were bloodshot eyes.
I froze. We spotted each other at the same time. It was a fucking slap in the face, and it kept coming, pushing worry, the urge to protect, and nausea down my throat.
“What the hell happened to you?” I blurted out.
He swallowed and averted his gaze, and he sought out his jeans and beater next to the couch. “I didn’t know you were home yet.”
That…did not answer my question.
“Boone.”
He sighed and stepped into his jeans. Oh, there goes the towel. Thanks. Just what I needed, his cock in my face. Or five feet away, whatever. “Just drop it,” he said.
It fucked with my head to have his cock and balls on the forefront of my mind at the same time as I was worried sick. I had to shake my head and scrub my hands over my face. The hell was wrong with me? I’d seen him naked a million times before.
If he was a grower, God have mercy on the women who were lucky enough to get fucked by him, because he was a shower too.
“I knew something was wrong,” I said. “My plan was to figure it out along the way, but now I’m just gonna ask. Are you depressed?”
“I told you to let it go,” he snapped. Then he picked up his towels and returned to the bathroom.
“Because I’m so good at obeying orders.” I didn’t waste a second to follow him, but I stopped short when I almost walked into him as he left the bathroom again. He glared at me. For once, I didn’t escalate anything. I didn’t glare back or say anything bitchy.
“Get outta my way, Case,” he warned quietly.
“No.” I clenched my jaw. “You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” I even grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze to show I was ready to be his support animal through this. “I’m not going anywhere, Boone. I wanna know why you’ve been bawlin’ your eyes out.”
For some reason, that didn’t work. He got angry and shoved me aside, hard enough that I hit the wall with a thud. So I did what any normal person would do in my shoes. I jumped onto his back and latched on and demanded he tell me why he wasn’t feeling well.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” he yelled.
“I’m showing you how much I care!” I hollered back. “Stop tryna push me off!”
He didn’t. He rammed me into the kitchen doorway, and I cursed as fiery pain shot through my shoulder.
“I’m not letting go until you tell me,” I snapped.
He let out a furious growl and stalked into the living room, and I tightened my arms and legs around him, anticipating he was gonna try to throw me off. Nice of him to do it over the couch, I guessed. Less nice that he sank his teeth into my arm.
“Motherfucker!” I shouted.
When the pain became too much, I felt my grip slipping, and he chose that moment to make a jerky motion over the couch that had me tumbling down. But in the last second, I managed to grab on to his beater, which ripped at the seams over his shoulders. The glare he gave me when my back hit the cushions was unearthly, and I saw his fist coming a mile away.
“Don’t you—” I gnashed my teeth and got both my hands around his clenched fist.
He gave me the most condescending look, one which didn’t require any translation. I got it. I was focusing all my strength on one single blow, and all he had to do was plant a knee between my legs and use his free hand to get me in a choke hold.
“You’re dumber than you look sometimes,” he sneered, chest heaving. “What’re you gonna do now? You’re just an annoying little insect.”
“Fuck you,” I spat out. “You can’t swat me away.”
“Looks like I can.” He pressed me down a little harder, to the point where I had to refocus my efforts. I coughed and tugged on his arm. Blood rushed to my face, and fury set in. I had limits.
Hauling in a strained breath, I punched him in the gut and kicked against his thigh.
He cursed me to the pits of hell. In an attempt to immobilize my legs, he made the mistake of loosening his hold on my throat to get both his knees between mine, and I took advantage as quickly as I could.
I bitch-slapped the fucker right across his face.
Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.
He’d been holding back before. I didn’t stand a goddamn chance when he swiftly used his body to trap me against the couch, and he easily restrained my wrists over my head too. Unless I wanted to ram my forehead against his, I was out of options.
My lungs squeezed at the sheer mass of him pressing against me. Fuck me, I had fantasies that started out this way, only with less violence. Okay, sometimes with less violence.
He shifted on top of me, and it became impossible to switch gears once my brain dove for the gutter. Even though I hurt basically everywhere, all I could think of was that I hadn’t been this close to him since we were fighting shit out like normal brothers in high school.
“You can only push me so far, Case,” he said, out of breath. His low voice was full of threat. “If I don’t wanna talk, I won’t fucking talk.”
A ball of nerves tightened my gut, and I flicked my gaze to his. So much anger and raw vulnerability swam in his eyes.
“I don’t accept those terms,” I rasped.
He chuckled darkly and peered down at our aligned bodies. “You’re not in a position to make demands, little brother.” Then he released one of my wrists and grabbed my jaw tightly, and before I could do fucking anything, he pushed harder against me, cursed under his breath, and slanted his mouth over mine.
The pure shock that bolted through me rendered me useless in a hot second. It didn’t compute—any of it. He’d fucking fried my brain. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe he’d lost it. That had to be it. He’d gone completely mental, and that was why he was currently swiping his tongue into my mouth.
Holy fuck, Boone was kissing me.
My body liquified underneath him as waves of heat rolled over me, but my mind was tinged with panic. Boone was straight. He wasn’t feeling well. He did stupid shit sometimes, and I was the one who had to live with
the regret later.
He stole a deep, sensual, hungry, desperate kiss that forced my surrender. I took an unsteady breath and slipped my hands free, then palmed his face and kissed him back tentatively.
He’s gonna regret it soon, moron.
“Boone,” I murmured hoarsely.
He wrenched away a few inches and stared at me unseeingly. He was so far away in his own world it wasn’t even funny.
He swallowed hard and furrowed his brow.
“Talk to me,” I whispered.
That brought him back. He sucked in a ragged breath and nearly flew off the couch.
Yeah, this was gonna blow.
I pushed myself up on my elbows and merely watched as he located his shirt, stuck his feet into his shoes, and patted his pockets for…I didn’t know. Phone, keys?
“I gotta go,” he muttered, never looking my way. Hurt slashed through me, but the worry won out. I had to give him some space.
He stalked out, maybe not even aware one of the wide straps to his beater was completely off, and I felt his departure in the foundation of the trailer. Every step.
I blew out a breath and sat up.
The timer in the kitchen buzzed.
So I guessed the pizza was ready.
Maybe I’d accidentally switched off notifications…
I reached for my phone and brought the screen to life, but no, still no response from my brother.
Fuck. I dreaded to think what he was going through. At least he was at Mom’s place. He wasn’t alone.
“Daddy, are you dying?” Ace asked.
I tapped my pen against my lip and glanced back at her in question.
She nodded at the TV. “Niles said something funny, and you didn’t laugh.”
Oh. Well, I could blame work. I cleared my throat and motioned vaguely at my laptop, the three notepads, printouts, and one iPad I had on the coffee table. “Just distracted by work.”
She hummed and slid forward on the couch. “Can I help?”
I mustered a small smile and picked up a stack of printouts and the yellow highlighter. “You can go through these documents and look for the name Jin Yu.” I spelled it out for her too. “Whenever you see it in the list, mark it.”
“Like in Clueless!” Ace said triumphantly.
I grinned. “Exactly like in Clueless. You know how to make a father proud, baby.”
She smiled in satisfaction and got straight to it.
I went back to worrying about Boone and cataloguing AJ Lange’s driving route today on my iPad. The man went to work early. At six-thirty, he’d pulled into the offices of the Nevada Gaming Control Board, and I was Jack’s complete lack of surprise to discover he worked in the Enforcement Division.
Corrupt motherfucker.
Well, if investigating organized crime was this criminal’s job, I might as well contact TJ right away.
I grabbed my phone—still no text from Boone—and sent my buddy a message through the usual app we used. No risk of any nosy fuckers seeing.
Oi. Got time to meet up soon? I have some questions about an AJ Lange at the NGCB.
He usually replied quickly. Despite being some ten years younger than me, that guy was hungry to climb ranks and lived and breathed work.
I sent another text to Boone while I waited.
You can’t shut me out completely. I’m worried about you. I swear I’m not reading into what happened earlier. I’ve done stranger things at low points in my life, you know that. Just talk to me.
I’d barely pressed send before TJ’s response popped up in three quick messages.
Oh, that fuckin guy.
Sure. When?
I have time tomorrow and Sat.
Tomorrow could work. It was Friday. Boone’s week with Ace, so he or Mom would pick her up after school.
Tomorrow, usual place. 3pm?
TJ and I met up at a diner on the outskirts of town the following day. The place was dead. People hadn’t gotten off work yet, and the lunch crowd was long gone.
“It’s been a minute, my man.” He slapped his hand into mine. “How’s life?”
“Killing me,” I chuckled. “How’s the family?” All two hundred of them. TJ and his family had been here since the ’70s, and they’d…made themselves known in their Italian-American way, so to speak. You couldn’t really live a life in the underworld and not know of his family, even today.
He widened his eyes and slid into the seat across from me. “Killing me, of course. It’s what they do.”
I smirked and flipped open the menu.
When the waitress came over, we ordered some sliders and shakes—best strawberry shake in all of Nevada—and then got down to business.
“So you got beef with Lange or what?” he asked.
I shrugged, not wanting to get into detail. “I guess I wanna know how secure his future is with the Commission.”
He snorted. “Too secure, in my opinion. His work protects him, and he’s in the pocket of some mameluke down in Florida.”
I nodded once. “His pop.”
We halted our conversation as the waitress returned with our shakes.
It must’ve been some sight, two grown-ass men living on the wrong side of the law sucking strawberry milk shakes from straws with a swirly design. But we owned this shit. Well, to each other. No need to tell others.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m not gonna ask what your plan is. But if getting rid of Lange is the goal because you got personal issues with him, my best bet would be to pin somethin’ on him. Right now, his record is spotless—always has been. Because the Board knows of his biological affiliations. Which means, you know, he’s gotta watch his back and constantly be the golden boy. Smallest suspicion from the higher-ups, and he’s done. That’s my two cents.”
I nodded slowly, thinking, and the truth was, I didn’t know exactly what Darius’s plan was. It didn’t matter to me. He’d asked me to find out as much as possible about Lange, that’s all.
“You don’t seem like a fan of him either,” I noted.
He chuckled. “Fuck no. But they’re all the same to us. If we get rid of one, another takes his place.” He shrugged. “I’ll admit, AJ’s in a league of his own because of the pressure he’s under. He works around the clock to shut down any casino-related business that has so much as a typo on the permit. But at the end of the day, you gotta pick your battles, and a lot has changed just in the past twenty years. We don’t really deal in gambling anymore.”
I knew that much. I’d lived through some of those changes myself. Vegas would probably always have a lot of crime, though it’d shifted to a smaller scale. It wasn’t a town run by the mob anymore.
Unless you counted politicians…
Six
“Sweetie, I’m sure you’ll work things out.” Mom stroked my back while I kept my face hidden against the back of her couch.
Christ, I’d fallen apart.
It was a good thing Ace wasn’t with me.
The pain was crippling. I still saw his face every time I closed my eyes. I saw the raw hurt in his expression, then the anger that’d followed. The sheer rage.
“You’re dead to me, Boone. You’re fucking dead to me.”
I swallowed hard against a new round of emotions and screwed my eyes shut.
“Can I stay here awhile, Ma?” I croaked. “Case is moving out of the apartment, and I can’t afford the rent on my own.”
“Oh, of course, baby. Stay as long as you need.”
I didn’t even care how pathetic it made me. I was too consumed by the loss of the center of my universe.
I squinted past the sleep in my eyes and read Boone’s message half a dozen times.
Several years ago, you made me promise never to hook up with anyone around you. I didn’t understand why, and you refused to explain. I broke that promise three times, never seeing the big deal, and then you cut me out of your life. I’ve been living with that regret ever since, and sometimes it becomes too much. I’m not depressed, Ca
se. It’s just grief. I’m not coping well without you.
I gotta ask something selfish. I need this job. I need the payout so I can start over and afford a place for me and Ace. But before we see each other again, I want your word that we won’t speak of what happened yesterday. I’m embarrassed as fuck, and you’re not exactly the smoothest guy to make things less awkward. I can’t explain right now anyway.
“Ugh.” I dropped my phone, and my head hit the pillow again.
If the sun wasn’t up, neither was I.
That used to apply to Boone too, yet he’d sent this at four in the morning.
I was so fucked. All the distance I’d put between us, the armor I’d hammered into place—all of it—just disintegrated into the tiniest of fragments. No panic or dread. I was just resigned to do whatever it took to make him feel better, and that included telling him why I’d begged him to make me that promise all those years ago.
Fuck. I could already feel my head spinning. I wasn’t gonna be able to get back to sleep, so I might as well call him.
I grabbed my phone again and clicked on his number. Then I rolled onto my back and blinked sleepily.
“Why are you up this early?” was how he answered the call.
I yawned. “Been on pins and needles to hear back from you.” The faintest vibration from my phone had captured my attention instantly since he’d walked out of here.
“You could’ve just texted that I have your word,” he said.
I could’ve.
“I’mma tell you something first,” I murmured drowsily. I knew just where to begin, too, because it’d been on my mind a lot lately. “You remember that we always went to Giordano’s for pizza after a gig. I remember that we usually hit up a club afterward, and it never took many drinks before you had some bunny in your lap. And if you think, Boone, you can figure out why I didn’t wanna see you with anyone.”
For years after I figured out I was drawn to him, it still wasn’t a problem to see him with a chick, partly because it never seemed serious, and partly because I’d been thinking with my cock at the time. I was too busy making rounds in the gay community. But then one time in Reno, I’d walked in on him screwing Tia, Ace’s mom. A few years before she’d been born. And I’d fuckin’ lost it. Completely flipped my shit. Because it was suddenly serious. My position as Boone’s closest friend and brother-in-arms was threatened, ’cause we worked a lot with Tia. We teamed up often and became very close. She was the perfect decoy when we robbed old rich guys blind.