“You have to stop watching this media coverage,” Dominic said.
With Levi sitting on the bed and Dominic kneeling on the floor, their eyes were just about level. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” said Levi. “I didn’t know they were going to do a story on the Seven of Spades. But they found out about the agent from the NCAVC.”
Dominic squeezed his hands. “This could be a good thing. Maybe the profiler will crack the case wide open.”
“As opposed to me, you mean. Because I’m the incompetent local cop who can’t catch a killer I’ve repeatedly spoken to on the phone.”
Instead of answering, Dominic tilted forward and touched his forehead to Levi’s. He hadn’t meant that, Levi knew—would never have even thought it. Serial killers like the Seven of Spades were notoriously difficult to pin down. They were careful, organized, extremely intelligent, and had no personal connection to their victims. It wasn’t Levi’s fault the killer was still at large.
But it felt like it was.
Dominic tipped Levi’s chin up and kissed him, soft and slow. Levi groaned into his mouth, threading his fingers through Dominic’s hair, and twitched when he felt Dominic’s hand working his belt open.
“What are you doing?” he murmured, though he wasn’t objecting.
“Relaxing you.” Dominic shuffled back a bit on his knees.
Levi glanced at the clock. “Checkout is at—”
“So we’ll break the rules,” Dominic said, and bent his head.
Levi wasn’t concerned with much else after that.
Dominic zoomed down SR 157 in his pickup truck, descending Mt. Charleston toward the bustling city in the valley below. The windows were wide open to take advantage of the crisp late October air. Rebel sat on the bench seat between him and Levi, who was watching the glorious autumnal mountain scenery rush past.
Levi always reminded Dominic of a cat—prickly and independent, but fiercely loyal and affectionate once you earned his trust. His body was feline as well: lean and sleek and strong, not an inch of muscle wasted on his narrow frame. He had a sharp, masculine beauty, from his cool-gray eyes to cheekbones so prominent Dominic could almost cut his thumb on their edges. He was still growing out his curly black hair, and while Levi had never admitted it, Dominic knew it was because he’d once commented on how much he liked Levi’s hair longer.
Though Levi wasn’t the bundle of jagged knives he’d been an hour earlier, he was more tense than usual, and that was saying a lot for someone whose baseline level of tension was leagues beyond the average human being’s. Dominic couldn’t blame him. It’d been bad enough when most people had believed the Seven of Spades was dead and Levi had been working the case alone in secret. Now the past few months had thrown heated public scrutiny into the mix, along with the unrelenting parade of frustration and disappointment as the police came up empty time and again.
Dominic, on the other hand, was looking forward to returning to the city. Tomorrow was his first official day of work as a licensed private investigator—though he was retaining his bounty hunting license just in case. His best friends were planning their wedding, his little sister would be giving birth any day now, and later this week he’d be meeting his boyfriend’s parents for the first time.
If it weren’t for Levi’s distress, life would be pretty much perfect.
“You should slow down,” Levi said, startling Dominic out of his reverie. “The speed limits on this road change fast, and the state troopers set speed traps on the weekends.”
Dominic was driving faster than he’d intended—easy to do on a descent like this without much traffic. “I think we’ll be fine,” he said, though he eased off the gas.
Levi went back to looking out the window, and Dominic’s thoughts wandered again as he imagined what his first case as a PI would be.
Not five minutes later, flashing red and blue lights appeared in his rearview mirror, accompanied by the wail of sirens.
Levi didn’t say a word, but his expression spoke volumes. Dominic sighed and pulled over as Levi dug in his jacket pocket for his badge.
“Easy,” Dominic said to Rebel, who was at full alert. “Settle.”
The state trooper who ambled up to the driver’s side could have been straight out of central casting, white and portly with a severe crew cut. Dominic gave him his sunniest smile.
“Afternoon, Officer.”
“You know what the speed limit is on this road, son?” the trooper said. He couldn’t have been ten years older than Dominic at the most.
“Fifty-five?”
“It’s forty-five on that stretch back there. And you were doing a cool seventy.”
Dominic winced. Levi leaned across Rebel to hand the trooper the leather holder containing his badge and LVMPD ID.
“I’m very sorry for the inconvenience, Officer,” he said. “He’ll be more careful in the future.”
The trooper’s demeanor softened as he realized he was dealing with a fellow cop. He studied Levi’s ID, and Dominic felt a prickle of foreboding.
“Detective Levi Abrams with LVMPD Homicide, huh?” the trooper said slowly. “Why does that sound familiar?”
The temperature in the truck seemed to plummet twenty degrees as Levi frosted over. Dominic gave him one quick glance and seriously considered just snatching the badge from the trooper and speeding away down the mountain, consequences be damned.
“Oh, no way,” said the trooper, oblivious to Dominic’s warning glare. “You’re that cop—”
Don’t fucking say it.
“The one the Seven of Spades is obsessed with!”
Christ. Dominic’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. There was nothing he could do to protect Levi from things like this, and he despised his inability to spare his boyfriend pain.
The trooper was still smiling proudly at them like he expected a goddamn medal.
“Yep,” Levi said with a bitter smile. “That’s me.”
The last time something like that had happened—a group of reporters had camped outside Levi’s building to ambush him on his way home—he and Dominic had gone down to his Krav Maga school, geared themselves up in full protective equipment, and beaten the shit out of each other until they were both exhausted.
Dominic made a tentative offer to do the same today when he dropped Levi at his apartment, but Levi waved off his concerns, giving him a sweet goodbye kiss and promising to call tomorrow. He seemed okay.
Dominic wasn’t fooled. Levi wasn’t in the same zip code as okay. He tended not to handle emotional stress well—or at all—and his two main coping mechanisms were sex and violence. Training Adriana wouldn’t give him the same release as sparring with an equal partner, and Dominic was worried he might implode.
Levi was a grown man, though, and Dominic couldn’t force him to ask for help. All he could do was make it clear that he was available if needed and then back off.
He hoped this wouldn’t ruin the memories of their first vacation together. It had been amazing—a full week of blissful wandering in the beauty of the national forest, disconnected from the stressors of the outside world. They’d never spent so much uninterrupted time together before, but they hadn’t gotten sick of each other once. Even when they argued, there was nobody on earth whose company Dominic enjoyed more.
Though he’d had boyfriends in the past, they’d been meaningless flings that had never lasted more than a couple of months, because he got bored and restless once he’d figured someone out. But there was no figuring Levi Abrams out. He challenged and excited Dominic just as much today as he had when the Seven of Spades had first thrust them into each other’s lives. Dominic couldn’t imagine ever wanting to let that connection go.
He pulled into a parking space outside the concrete U of his apartment building and retrieved his bags from the truck bed. Once he and Rebel were inside the chain-link fence, he unclipped her leash, and they walked past the central community pool and up the exterior staircase to the second floor.
Then he saw the balloons. They bobbed cheerfully from strings tied to his doorknob, a brightly colored bunch emblazoned with the message WELCOME HOME!
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered, approaching the door warily. He knew better than to believe that his friends had left these for him.
Three months ago, an electronic counter surveillance sweep had revealed that the Seven of Spades had been bugging his, Levi’s, and his next-door neighbors’ apartments, as well as tracking their cars. After getting rid of the devices and consulting with the landlords involved, Dominic had installed additional hardware to lock up every window and door, as well as wireless security systems.
Ever since, the Seven of Spades had taken to leaving him and Levi bizarre little gifts at their front doors, on the hoods of their cars, and once even at the club where Dominic bartended part-time. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure why, but he suspected the killer wanted to make it clear that even if they couldn’t eavesdrop directly anymore, they were keeping an eye out—for good or ill.
Dominic still did a full sweep every other week, just to be safe.
Now, his first impulse was to jab his keys into the balloons, but he knew better than to destroy evidence even if there was zero chance the police could get anything from it. He untangled the ribbon from the doorknob, brought the balloons inside, and weighed them down in the corner of his living room with a book. Levi could get them into the lab tomorrow, for all the good it would do. The Seven of Spades was too smart to leave trace evidence behind.
“Freak,” Dominic said under his breath.
Once he’d spent some time settling into his apartment after a week away, he went next door, where his best friends Carlos and Jasmine lived. Carlos opened the door with a strained smile on his face.
“Hey, Dom,” he said, raking his floppy brown hair off his forehead. “Welcome back. How was your trip?”
“It was great, thanks.” Dominic narrowed his eyes, taking in the tense lines of Carlos’s lanky body. “What’s wrong?”
Carlos swung the door open wider, inclining his head. Dominic stepped inside and raised his eyebrows.
Arts and crafts supplies had been strewn across every available surface, blanketing the furniture and even the floor. Boxes overflowed with paper, ribbons, and glue, while dozens of paint tubes were scattered between Styrofoam cups holding pencils and sticky paintbrushes. Jasmine was sitting on the floor, bent over something on the coffee table and surrounded by balled-up paper.
“Jasmine,” Dominic said.
Her head shot up and she gave him a startled look. Her hands and forearms were splashed with paint, and a long blue smear beneath her collarbone marred her elaborate tattoos.
“Dom!” she said, jumping to her feet. “I didn’t know you were back already.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and hurried over. He bent down so she could kiss his cheek. “How’s Levi?”
“He’s good. He’s actually heading out to Henderson tonight to see Adriana.”
“Oh, that’s great,” said Jasmine. “The last time I visited my parents, she seemed to be doing better. I think Levi and Natasha are really helping her.”
“So what’s going on in here?” Dominic asked, gently redirecting her attention to the chaos of the living room.
“Jasmine decided to design our wedding invitations herself,” Carlos said.
Dominic gathered from his tone that this was a bad thing, though he didn’t see why. Jasmine was an artist—she made her living off tattoos, but she dabbled in every fine art medium known to man, and she was incredibly talented.
“Well, I’m trying.” Jasmine headed back to the coffee table and settled into her previous spot, flipping her rainbow braids over one shoulder. “Nothing’s coming out right so far. But I’ll get there.”
Carlos dragged a hand over his stubbled jaw as he looked at Dominic. “She’s basically been sitting in that exact position since you left.”
Okay, that wasn’t good. Dominic watched her for a few seconds as she sank into her project, mumbling to herself while she sorted through the clutter on the coffee table. It wasn’t like her to be comfortable with a mess like this, and she was chewing on her lip ring the way she did when she was stressed out.
He jerked his head toward the kitchen, silently asking Carlos to follow him around the corner. There was no actual wall separating the two rooms, just a breakfast bar, so he kept his voice low when he said, “Please tell me you’re not doing that straight-guy thing where you check out of the wedding and make the bride do all the work until she goes insane.”
“I’m not!” Carlos snapped. Then he took a deep breath and said more calmly, “I’m not trying to, at least. It’s just . . . Jasmine’s parents are paying for most of the wedding, and ninety-nine percent of the guest list is her family. I kind of feel like my contributions are limited, you know?”
Dominic nodded. Carlos was trans, which his family of origin hadn’t been able to deal with; he hadn’t spoken to them in years. And while Jasmine’s enormous, sprawling family was warm and welcoming, Dominic could understand why Carlos might feel a little left out.
“Has she left the apartment for anything besides work this week?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then it’s time for an intervention. We’ll take her out tonight.”
“No offense, Dom, but you’re not an artist and you’ve never lived with one. You have no idea what it’s like trying to drag them out of this kind of creative black hole.”
He clapped Carlos’s shoulder. “Leave it to your best man,” he said, and returned to the living room. “Hey, Jasmine.”
“Hmm?” she said, not looking up.
He moved closer; then, on second thought, he sat down beside her. They’d been friends for a long time and he knew his size didn’t make her uncomfortable, but he didn’t like to loom over people with his bulk unless he was actively trying to intimidate them—or, in certain cases, turn them on.
“Carlos and I were just talking about going out to that vegan restaurant you like,” he said, touching her arm. “VegeNation? And maybe grabbing a few drinks afterward. What do you think?”
Still absorbed in her work, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty busy here.”
“Okay. So I guess you don’t want to hear about my first-ever vacation with my first-ever serious boyfriend?”
She paused, lifting her head, and he could see the temptation tugging at her.
“Childhood anecdotes were exchanged. Embarrassing memories revealed. Dreams for the future shared.” He leaned in. “Bonding. Deepening connections. Scorching hot hotel sex—”
Laughing, she shoved his shoulder and said, “Fine, you got me. I’ll come. But you don’t have to tell me about that last part.”
“You sure? It really was fantastic sex. All that fresh mountain air.”
She snorted, and he took her hands, bringing them both to their feet.
“Let me just go wash up and change,” she said, and headed toward the back of the apartment.
Dominic turned around to see Carlos watching him and shaking his head. “What?”
“You’d think I’d have learned by now not to underestimate your ability to manipulate people,” Carlos said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “At least you only use your powers for good.”
“With great power comes great responsibility,” Dominic said gravely, and ducked the roll of paper towels Carlos threw at him.
“So are we just not gonna talk about what’s happening tonight?” Martine asked in her thick Flatbush accent. She slid her car into a spot between two large vans and put it in park.
Levi looked over at her as he unbuckled his seat belt. “What?”
“I keep waiting for you to bring it up, but that’s obviously a mistake.” She pulled her keys out of the ignition.
“Do you really think this is the most appropriate place for this conversation?” He nodded at the building in front of them: the Clark County Coroner’s Office.
> She arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Your parents are coming out to meet Dominic. That’s kind of a big deal.”
They got out of the car, the slamming doors echoing through the parking lot. Martine was Levi’s closest friend, a woman he trusted more than his own sister, but he did not want to get into this now. “My parents are coming to visit me. The fact that they’ll meet Dominic is incidental.”
A stiff autumn breeze rushed past as they walked toward the building, tousling Levi’s hair and ruffling Martine’s springy natural finger coils. Though she barely came up to his shoulder, the force of her personality always made her seem taller.
“Yeah, right,” she said. “Your parents are flying over two thousand miles to take a random three-day weekend in October just to see you and play a little blackjack? Get real.”
He held the front door for her, then followed her inside. They showed their badges to the reception clerk and were ushered around the metal detector by a security guard. Only when they were alone again in the maze of familiar hallways did he say, “I can’t think about it too closely or I’ll freak out. My mother spent three years never once calling Stanton by his actual name, and she liked him.”
Levi’s relationship with Stanton Barclay had been serious; they’d lived together for years, and Stanton had even asked Levi’s parents for their blessing to propose. Levi’s mother had addressed Stanton by name to his face, of course, but when she was talking to Levi she invariably referred to him as your young man. She did the same thing now with Dominic.
“I don’t think you need to worry so much,” Martine said as they stopped outside the door to Exam Room C. “Everyone who meets Dominic loves him. I’ve heard bounties he’s arrested talk about what a nice guy he is.”
Levi spread his hands. “I have a Jewish mother. I am her only son. King David himself could walk the earth again and she wouldn’t think he was good enough for me.”
Chuckling, Martine rapped on the door and swung it open. Levi stowed his personal drama and concentrated on the task at hand.
Cash Plays Page 2