Play Rough

by Eva Ashwood

  It’s my fault, and we all know it.

  Levi and Rory haven’t spoken any words of blame toward me, but with the way Sloan is grinding his teeth as he drives, I know he’s thinking it. He said he has to go talk to Gavin, and apparently we’re all going with him. My blood runs cold just thinking about it. The last time I saw that man, he threatened to kill my dad for double-crossing the Black Roses.

  It’s a silent car ride until we get to a bar in the middle of town. It’s one of those that blends into the rest of the businesses on the street, that you wouldn’t look twice at if you walked past it, unless you really wanted a drink.

  The way Sloan parks around back and heads for the back entrance makes it clear it’s one of the many businesses in town that the Black Roses own or have connections to.

  Once inside, we walk down a dimly lit hallway before Sloan knocks on a door that says Management.

  “Come in,” a deep voice calls from inside, and I recognize it as his dad’s.

  My heart starts racing all over again. Jesus, what must my blood pressure be like by now? It’s a wonder I haven’t fucking passed out.

  Gavin’s seated behind a small desk, typing quickly on a laptop when we walk in. He holds up a hand, making us wait while he finishes whatever it is he’s writing. Probably nothing good. The seconds seem to stretch into eternity, and I’m positive everyone in the small room can tell how nervous I am.

  There’s no way Sloan’s going to lie to his dad’s face about what happened. He can’t. So he’s going to have to tell him the truth, and I don’t have a great feeling about what might happen to me when he does.

  In fact, I have an awful feeling about it.

  Is Gavin going to make me take on some kind of task as penance like he did to my dad? Am I going to have to find some way to pay back the money the Jackals took?

  Fuck, there’s no damn way that’ll ever be possible. It has to have been hundreds of thousands of dollars.

  Finally, Gavin closes the lid on his laptop and looks up at us. His gaze slides over Rory, Levi, and me, and then settles on Sloan.

  Just like I was the first time I met him, I’m struck by how similar he and Sloan look. They have that same commanding presence, and they carry themselves similarly. Sloan’s given me or one of the guys that same expectant look his father is wearing so many times over the weeks I’ve known them, but somehow it’s never packed quite the punch it does when it’s coming from his dad.

  “What happened?” Gavin asked, and the way he asks it makes it clear he expects the full story.

  Sloan sighs and starts talking. “The Jackals got away with Alex and most of the cash,” he explains. “They were gone before we even got there. Well. There were two of them left, but they escaped.”

  “How did they find out about Alexander in the first place?” Gavin demands. “This was supposed to be airtight. Where’s the leak?”

  I can feel Levi and Rory glance at me out of the corners of their eyes, but Sloan doesn’t look away from his father.

  “It wasn’t one of ours,” he says. “It was Mercy. She’s been feeding information to the Jackals. She snooped through private messages and notes and found what she needed to give them. It was a revenge plot. She saw me when I was pretending to kill Oscar, and she thought he was actually dead. She’s been plotting against us this whole time to get back at us. At me.”

  Gavin’s eyes narrow, and his face is like a thundercloud. Sloan at his most upset has never looked as angry as his father does now, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

  Finally, Gavin’s gaze lands on me, and I really wish it hadn’t. His eyes are icy cold as he looks me up and down, and I wonder if he even remembers me from that night of the fight. If he knows what he put my father through. If he cares.

  Sloan made it seem like Gavin’s the sort of person who only cares about the gang and preserving its interests and power, so I’m sure he’s not going to care about my justifications. Even if Sloan had killed my dad, telling him I was striking back at the Black Roses because of it wouldn’t mean anything.

  And since Sloan didn’t kill him?

  My reasons mean less than nothing.

  Gavin looks at me for a long minute, and I can’t figure out if he’s waiting for my side of the story or not.

  Either way, I launch into it. “Sloan’s right,” I admit, forcing the words past my tight throat. “I gave the information to the Jackals.”

  The look on Gavin’s face fills me with dread as I realize the detail I’ve forgotten. I’ve been so worried about this accountant and what Gavin might do to me that I forgot about what he might do to my dad. If he’s pissed enough, maybe he’ll renege on whatever deal they had with my father.

  That sick feeling rises in me again, dread and worry doing a tap dance in my stomach.

  After all of this, thinking my dad was dead and then finding out he’s still alive, I can’t be the one who gets him killed in the end. I can’t be responsible for that, especially considering I haven’t even gotten to see him again since I thought Sloan shot him.

  “I acted alone,” I add hastily, trying to make sure the blame falls squarely on me and no one else. “And I’m sorry for how it happened, but I thought… I thought my dad was gone.”

  I hate how small my voice sounds when I say that. Gangs don’t deal in pity. I fucked up by doing what I did, and trying to play on Gavin’s sentiments isn’t going to help.

  But apparently I can’t help it.

  He’s angry, that much is obvious, but he’s not yelling or lashing out. His emotions are contained, and he seems to be thinking through the situation. I honestly don’t know if his careful consideration of everything that went down will make things better or worse for me, and my fingernails dig into my palms as I wait for him to say something.

  “Is Alexander dead?” he finally asks Sloan, looking away from me and back to his son.

  Sloan shakes his head. “We’re not sure. We didn’t find a body or any signs of a major struggle at the house. No blood or bullet holes or anything. They probably just took him.”

  Gavin nods. “It would make the most sense for them to take him alive. Try to break him or use him against us somehow. I can’t see them killing him outright. He’s too valuable.”

  The look on Sloan’s face clearly suggests he’s not so sure about the odds of Alex’s survival, but he seems to be thinking more emotionally than his dad right now.

  It’s strangely fascinating to watch them interact, and I let myself get distracted by that instead of focusing on the knot of fear in my stomach.

  I can see all the ways they’re so similar and yet so different too. I remember Sloan talking about his mother, and I have to wonder how much of her influence is in him. Gavin’s concern about Alex seems purely practical. He doesn’t seem like the sort of person to really care about people on a human level, and I feel like Sloan has the capacity for it. Even if he’s really good at pretending otherwise.

  “Did you take care of the house?” Gavin asks.

  “Yeah. I had the guys you sent wipe everything. The fucking Jackals left just enough cash behind to make a point. It’ll get brought in soon.”

  It’s kind of agonizing, standing here while they discuss logistics. I have no idea what Gavin’s ruling is going to be, and I can’t relax until I figure out what’s going to happen from here.

  During this whole ordeal, I had a singular focus, one goal that rose up above everything else.

  Take down the Black Roses.

  Everything was leading to that endgame. Whenever I was lost or having a hard time figuring out what I should do next, I could orient myself around that goal and course-correct to get back to it.

  But now that goal is gone. The vengeance I wanted isn’t there to be had anymore, and I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff staring into a dark, empty sky. I have no idea what comes next, and it reminds me of the early days of living with the guys, when I was so unsure of what I was supposed to do.

 
; A lot depends on what Gavin decides, and I can’t stop myself from glancing at him, trying to analyze what he’s thinking. What he’s planning for me.

  At the moment, he seems more interested in tying up loose ends with Sloan than in paying any attention to me, dealing with the immediate fallout of the Jackals’ attack.

  The sound of a cell phone buzzing cuts into their conversation, and Gavin holds his hand up again, silencing Sloan as he pulls out his phone to take the call.

  “Progress?” he asks.

  It’s too quiet to hear what the other person is saying, just the hum of a male voice on the other end of the line. Another Black Rose member, I’m willing to bet.

  He talks for a bit, probably filling Gavin in on the ongoing situation.

  “Any sign of them?” Gavin asks. “There are only so many places they could go that quickly. We own most of that section of town.”

  He nods while the other guy talks again, brows drawing together. “You need to cover more ground. The best way to get ahead of this fucking mess is to stop them before they can get too far away. I’ll send you some backup. I want a progress report before the end of the night.”

  He means business, clearly, and he’s crisp and well-spoken for a gang leader. If I weren’t so tangled up in this shitty-ass mess, I might even be kind of impressed.

  He listens a bit more and then nods with a sort of finality. “Right. Well, keep me posted. If we can avoid this getting worse than it is, that would be something.” He ends the call and looks back to Sloan. “They’re trying to track down where the Jackals might have taken the money. If we can intercept a smaller group of them, we might be able to avoid an all-out war with these assholes.” His eyes glance over to where Levi and Rory are still standing, both with their arms folded. “We need more people on the streets searching. I want the two of you to join the others. Damon and Bryce will be leaving from here in five minutes. I want you with them.”

  They both exchange a look with each other and then glance at me. Levi’s gaze lingers hot on my skin, and Rory’s jaw is clenched tight. I can tell neither one of them wants to leave me alone here, either with Sloan or his father or both, but their leader just gave them an order. They can’t defy him. Especially for someone who just admitted she’s been working against them. That wouldn’t go over well at all.

  They both shift their gazes to Sloan, and I have no idea what they’re thinking he’s going to tell them, considering he’s just as bound to his dad’s will as they are.

  But he gives them a small nod, and it’s obvious it relaxes them a bit.

  “We’ll let you know what we find,” Rory says, and they both turn to leave. Rory touches my shoulder on the way out, and Levi gives me another of those lingering looks.

  I can admit I feel a little ashamed for doubting them before. It’s obvious they care about me, to the point where they’d even consider wanting to stay with me instead of following orders. It makes a little bubble of warmth and hope expand in my chest, but that feeling doesn’t last long when I’m left alone with Gavin and Sloan.

  At least Levi and Rory were sort of on my side.

  The door closes behind them, and Gavin turns his attention back to his son. Something shifts in his expression, as if part of his public persona is dropping away now that it’s just him and his son. And me.

  “This will hurt us,” he tells Sloan, his voice a deep rumble. “Badly. The loss of the money is one thing, and maybe we’ll be able to recover some of it. But if they break Alex? If they get him to talk? We’re fucked. They’ll know too much about our business dealings, possibly enough to get the FBI after us. It could destroy us.”

  Sloan’s jaw clenches, and I hear the sound of his sharp breath beside me. “We won’t let that happen.”

  Gavin nods, grimacing as he drags a hand over the shadow of stubble on his jaw. “I fucking hope not. But the cleanup needs to start now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gavin nods again, his blue eyes glinting as he watches his son. Then his gaze flicks to me, casual and almost dismissive.

  “Take care of her,” he says.

  25

  It takes a second for Gavin’s meaning to sink in. And when it does, my stomach seems to fall out of my body. I feel like a hollow space has opened up inside me, filled with nothing but freezing cold.

  He doesn’t mean take care of me in the “make sure she’s okay” sense. He means it in the “take care of this problem” sense. The full brunt of that realization hits me a second too late, and my eyes widen.

  I pivot on my feet and try to run for the door, but Sloan’s on me before I can even take more than a couple of steps. His arm loops around my waist, and I feel the unmistakable pressure of the barrel of a gun at my back.

  My breath catches. I go still, fear lancing through me.

  I’ve been in plenty of dangerous situations before, even more than usual since I met the guys, but this is a new one for me.

  “Nice and easy,” Sloan mutters to me.

  My heart is pounding so fast that I can’t distinguish the individual beats anymore. Gavin grabs a length of rope from somewhere behind the desk and then crosses the room and pulls my wrists together in front of me. He binds them tightly, and the touch of his hands on my skin makes a shiver run down my spine.

  He tightens the knots with one last sharp pull before looking over my shoulder at Sloan, his gaze sliding right past my face as if I don’t even exist to him anymore.

  As if I’m already dead.

  “I knew this entire fucking thing was a mistake,” he tells his son. “I hope you’ll remember this next time.”

  Sloan doesn’t respond—at least not with words, and I can’t see his face. Keeping one arm looped around my waist and the barrel of the gun pressed tightly to my back, he leads me outside to the car, taking slow, even steps.

  My eyes dart around when we get out there, trying to find someone I can signal to for help, but there’s no one around. I can hear traffic from the other side of the building, but that doesn’t help me because I don’t dare scream.

  Even though it ended up being a ruse, I remember the calm, unbothered expression on Sloan’s face when he shot my dad, and I wonder if that’s how he is when he has to “take care” of someone for real.

  Is he really that cold? That unflappable? How many people has he done this to before me?

  My head is spinning, and I can tell I’m starting to panic a little, losing my grip on what’s happening. I focus on trying to breathe, trying to keep my wits about me as Sloan opens the door to the back seat and shoves me inside.

  He slams the door shut, and I try to sit up so that I’m not just sprawled out on the seat. It’s not the first time I’ve been tied up or restrained in this car. I remember Rory restraining me the first night, when I was ready to fight all of them to get my dad back and to get off Rory’s lap.

  Dammit. What I wouldn’t give for Rory to be here now. He wouldn’t let Sloan do this to me.

  Sloan starts the car, backing out of the alley and pulling onto the street. We drive on surface roads for a while before ending up on the highway.

  He’s silent again, and I can see his eyes focused on the road, jaw clenched as he drives. There’s not a lot of traffic today, and after several long minutes of driving, he signals to take the exit that leads out of the city, toward the winding back roads that lead to the outskirts of the more populated areas.

  That definitely doesn’t bode well, and I look around, trying to find something, anything I can use to cut my bindings and get myself free. Maybe I can take control of the car or just fucking jump out.

  I’ll take my chances with possible broken bones and trying not to get run over if it means getting out of this car.

  I slide across the seat slowly, trying to make it to the door handle without being noticed. It’ll be hard to pick myself up when I fall out with my hands bound, but it’s worth a shot. I stretch my arms out and over, trying to get to the handle so I can yank the door open
, positioning myself so I’m ready to jump.

  Sloan’s eyes land on me in the rearview mirror before I can make much progress. “I’ll shoot you while we’re driving if I have to,” he says, voice emotionless.

  This is the Sloan I remember from the first time we met. All business, no warmth or light or anything in his face. He’s serious, and I stop trying to escape and stare up at him in the rearview mirror instead.

  He looks tired, but he’s pushing through it. Following his dad’s orders like he always has, clearly.

  “I spent all this time thinking you were a monster,” I tell him, my voice low and rough. “I laid awake at night, tossing and turning in my bed, thinking about what you did. What I thought you did. Killing my father with no expression on your face, like you did it as easily as breathing. Like it came naturally to you. I didn’t even know how to be around someone like that.”

  I swallow. My throat feels fucking parched, scratchy and painful.

  “But then I realized I was wrong. You didn’t kill my dad. You weren’t that person.” He’s not looking at me, but I keep my gaze locked on the small part of his face I can see in the small mirror. “Maybe I wasn’t wrong, though. You’re going to do to me what I thought you did to him. With that same look on your face, like it doesn’t matter. Like I don’t matter. So maybe I was right all along. Maybe you are a monster with no feelings and no remorse at all.”

  Nothing changes in Sloan’s face as he stares at me for a second and then glances back at the road.

  “You’re not so fucking innocent,” he says, his voice strained. “Because of you, a man might have died today.” He shakes his head. “And if he’s not dead yet, he’ll probably wish he was soon, because the Jackals aren’t going to just let him be. He knows too much. They’re not just going to give him a comfortable room of his own and let him keep living his life peacefully until they get what they want.”

  I catch the subtle jab at my own situation. Even though I was being used as collateral to make sure my dad did what they wanted, I was kept in a nice house—given food and basic necessities, and even allowed to keep going to school.