Playing Dirty

by Tiffany Snow

  “It’s an easy test, especially for someone like you,” Leo said. “All you have to do”—he looked at me—“is kill her.”

  For one wildly hopeful moment, I thought he meant Branna. Then I realized … nope, he meant me.

  I instinctively took a step back, but Branna was behind me and there was nowhere to go.

  “You want me to kill my ex-girlfriend?” Ryker asked, skepticism in his tone.

  “It would solve my problem, and incidentally, yours as well,” Leo replied.

  “She’s just some secretary I picked up at a bar and fucked a couple times,” Ryker said. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  Okay, now I was obsessive and easy. I shot him a glare that he didn’t see.

  “Then you should have no trouble doing your job.” Leo nodded at the weapon he still held and Ryker finally took it. Now I started to panic.

  “Hey, listen, I just met this guy and we seemed to hit it off, but you don’t want to see me anymore, that’s fine,” I babbled. “I’ll just be on my way and let bygones be bygones.” I took another step back toward the door, but was stopped in my tracks by Leo’s sidekick pointing a gun at me.

  “You kill her,” Leo said. “Or Johnny here will do the honors. Either way, she’s not leaving here alive.” He glanced at me. “Sorry, honey. Don’t be offended. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” I snapped.

  “McCrady, make up your mind,” Leo said. “Kill her … or I’ll have serious doubts as to your level of commitment.”

  I eyed the gun in Ryker’s hand as a cold sweat broke out all over my body. “If you think I’m just going to stand here and let you shoot me—”

  “That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Leo cut me off. “McCrady, decide.”

  Ryker raised the gun, its muzzle pointed directly at my head.

  My mouth went utterly dry. I stared at the gun, then at him. His jaw was set in tight bands and his hand was steady.

  “Please, don’t,” I said, my voice unsteady. The gun looked very deadly, and I was hyperaware of everyone watching. I knew Ryker’s life was on the line, too, and had no idea how else he could get out of this without exposing his real identity. Surely he wouldn’t hurt me. Surely …

  And yet, my plea seemed to fall on deaf ears. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he looked at me. Not even when he pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  My heart stopped for a shattering moment, but nothing happened. No sound of a bullet, no ripping pain through my head or my chest, nothing at all. Just the dead click of a hammer against an empty chamber.

  “Some weapon,” Ryker mused, looking at the gun. With one flick of his thumb, the magazine ejected into his hand. “It would be much more effective if it were actually loaded.” He tossed the gun at Leo, who caught it. “Did I pass your test?”

  Leo laughed in delight while I struggled to remember how to breathe.

  “I knew you were still the same cold sonofabitch,” he said, still smiling. “That’s good enough for me.”

  Ryker had almost killed me. In cold blood.

  I couldn’t wrap my head around that, shock settling in bone deep.

  “You really want to mess up your carpet?” Ryker asked Leo, cool and calm. As though he hadn’t just pointed a gun at me and pulled the trigger. “I’ll take her somewhere else and get rid of her.”

  Leo waved his hand. “Of course. No, I don’t want to replace the rug. It cost a hundred and fifty dollars a foot.”

  Ryker took my elbow and sense finally kicked in again.

  “Let me go, you bastard!” I fought him, swinging my fist and connecting with any part of his body I could reach. I fought dirty, nails scratching and biting, but he hauled me around, back to his front. His arm was tight across my chest and I couldn’t breathe.

  “Sorry, Leo,” Ryker said. “She’s a bit of a wildcat.”

  Leo laughed. “Then I see why you liked her in bed.”

  Ryker hustled me out the door and into the hallway. I was panic-stricken and terrified, with no real plan or thought to how I was trying to get away. I just kept fighting him. But he subdued me easily.

  “Knock it off, Sage,” he snapped. “You’ll only hurt yourself.” I stopped when I felt cold steel at my throat. Ryker was holding a knife against my skin. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn’t believe he was doing this. Was I really so easily expendable in the face of his job?

  “How can you do this to me?” I hissed through my teeth. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Collateral damage,” Ryker said. “I told you not to come here.”

  “Need some help?” Branna asked, and I realized she’d followed us out a few steps.

  “Nah. I got it,” Ryker said.

  That’s when I realized he was holding me in exactly the same position Parker had taught me how to get out of when he’d done the self-defense training. We’d practiced it over and over until I had it right, though I hadn’t hit with full force. At the time, I’d been afraid perhaps I wouldn’t be able to hit with full force when needed, but I shouldn’t have worried. My fear and anger were such that I wanted to hurt Ryker.

  I went still, waiting until I heard Branna go back into the office and the door shut. Ryker’s hold on me loosened fractionally as he took me up the stairs and I obediently went up the steps, his hand in my hair and knife at my throat.

  “Play along,” he hissed in my ear, taking me by surprise. “We’re being watched.”

  Play along? Part of me felt utterly relieved. Ryker wasn’t going to kill me. The other part of me was still terrified, and now, furious. First, he’d all but said he was going to sleep with Branna so she’d trust him again, then he’d agreed to kill me to cement his position with Leo. Had he known the gun was empty? How could he possibly have been sure? And now he wanted me to play along in this deadly game? No problem.

  When we got to the top, I took a deep breath, praying I did this right.

  Whipping my head back into his chin, I shoved his knife hand down while I spun away and out of immediate danger. Remembering what Parker had said about disabling your attacker, I struck, just like he’d taught me to. A sharp jab to the solar plexus, then a knee in the nuts.

  A grunt of pain told me I’d made good contact and both his hands dropped from me.

  “Give Branna and Leo my regards,” I hissed, then didn’t waste any more time, but turned and ran for the front of the building and burst through the door.

  The dim sunlight outside was like a spotlight compared to the murky confines of the bar. Wanting to get away as quickly as possible, I climbed into the truck, feeling more lost and more alone than I’d ever felt in my life. It had been a huge mistake to come here. Ryker was in deep with men who’d kill me without thinking twice. If that gun hadn’t been empty of bullets, we might both be dead.

  I couldn’t handle this. Couldn’t handle a cop boyfriend who had to go to lengths like cheating on me and pretending he’d kill me for his job—if he’d been pretending and it hadn’t been just luck that the gun wasn’t loaded. It had seemed so real, the coldly calculating way he’d looked at me before pulling the trigger. I’d never imagined he could so utterly become someone else like that.

  He could go to hell, for all I cared. I was going to do what I could to say alive. Which meant getting the hell out of Chicago.

  * * *

  I pulled into my parents’ house an hour later. It was a relief to be home. A place I finally felt safe after the last few days. I’d completely forgotten to buy one of those “burner” phones Parker had said he was going to buy, but couldn’t bring myself to care.

  Schultz met me at the door. Our driver for as long as I could remember, he seemed surprised to see me, but he recovered quickly.

  “Miss Sage,” he said. “How good to have you home.”

  “Thanks,” I said, mustering up a smile.

  “I’ll let Rita know you’re here,” he said. “Do you have any b
ags?”

  “No, but thanks.” I handed him the keys to the truck and he looked dubious at the ancient relic, but I was too tired and disheartened to explain as I brushed past him into the foyer.

  My bedroom was upstairs and that’s where I went. The queen-size bed still overlaid with a sky-blue coverlet gave me a measure of comfort to be somewhere familiar.

  I took a shower in my bathroom and dressed in sweat pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. My feet were bare as I padded downstairs to the kitchen. Whatever Rita was cooking smelled mouthwatering and I followed the aroma.

  “About time you came home for a visit,” Rita admonished the moment she saw me. I gave her a hug.

  “Good to see you, too,” I said with affection. She squeezed me tight despite her gruff greeting.

  “I have fresh linguine for dinner,” she said, “and clam sauce.”

  “Sounds amazing,” I replied, letting her go. I headed for the wine cellar, choosing a bottle at random and bringing it back upstairs to uncork. Rather than let the red breathe, I poured a glass immediately and took a long swallow as Rita looked on with disapproval.

  “Your father drinks like that when he’s having business problems,” she observed, stirring a pot of creamy sauce.

  “Yeah, well, it must run in the family,” I said.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” What was there to say? Too much to tell and too sad of an ending to bother.

  She nodded, staying quiet. I loved that about Rita. Whereas my mother would keep at me like a dog with a bone, Rita would hold her peace until I was ready to talk.

  “You and Schultz sticking around even though my parents are gone?” I asked.

  “Well, I’d thought about driving down to Bloomington to see Jeffrey and the girls.” Jeffrey was her son. He was divorced with two children. “But now that you’re here—”

  “No, don’t even finish that sentence,” I interrupted. “I’ll be fine. I can manage here by myself. You go on and visit Jeffrey. Are you driving yourself?”

  “Well, Schultz was going to go, since you know it makes me nervous to drive by myself, but I hate to leave you here alone.”

  “Stop it,” I admonished her. “I’m a grown woman. I live alone, for goodness’ sake. You’ll make me feel guilty if you don’t go.”

  It took a few more reassurances that no, I wouldn’t starve if she left and yes, I didn’t mind being alone, before she agreed to not change her plans.

  I made her sit and eat with me when dinner was ready, but Schultz refused. He was old-school, maintaining that there should be a respectful distance between employer and employee, but Rita’d had a soft spot for me since the day I was born, so she was easy to persuade.

  “C’mon,” I cajoled. “No sense in me eating alone if you’re here.” That plus puppy dog eyes and I had her. So easy.

  We chatted about inconsequential things while we ate. She said I was too skinny, I said she nagged too much. Same old, same old, and it felt wonderful. I could pretend all the bad things that had been happening to me weren’t real, just for a little while.

  She and Schultz left after we’d cleaned up dinner. I reassured her again that I’d be fine as she gave me a list of dishes she’d premade and kept frozen for unexpected times like this. I finally pushed them out the door and waved as the car disappeared into the darkness.

  I showered and pulled on a pair of pajamas that had seen better days: shorts and a tank that were so soft, though almost threadbare. Curling up in my old bed in my old room, I stared into the darkness.

  Worry for Parker gnawed at my belly. I hadn’t heard from him all day and couldn’t reach him on his cell. What had happened? Had Viktor been waiting in his apartment? Had he been ambushed the way I had? What if he hadn’t made it?

  And Ryker. Now that I was alone, I could let the hurt and betrayal wash over me, and tears leaked from my eyes to stain the pillow. Why had he done it? To save himself? Should I condemn him for that? It was hard to demand someone give their life for yours, but I could still see him pointing that gun at me and feel the stark terror when his finger had moved on the trigger.

  I fell into an uneasy sleep sometime after midnight, tossing and turning and watching the moonlit terrace outside my window for intruders. Even so, I missed it when someone did come in, and I suddenly woke with a start to see the outline of a man standing at the foot of my bed.

  I drew in a breath to scream, but he moved fast, pressing a hand over my mouth.

  “Shh, it’s okay. It’s me.”

  Parker.

  Oh God. Relief washed over me, not only because it wasn’t the same guy who’d tried to kill me today, but because it was Parker … and he was alive and safe.

  Pulling his hand away from my mouth, I yanked him down toward me until I could fling my arms around his neck.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I managed to ask. “I’ve been worried sick.”

  “You’ve been worried,” he said, sitting down next to me and wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me closer. “I’ve been out of my mind, thinking you were dead.”

  “A man came,” I said, “he had a gun. But McClane stopped him.”

  His hold tightened. “God, Sage, when I saw the blood on the floor and realized you were gone …”

  Parker’s voice was rough in my ear, and I could have let him go, but I didn’t. I’d tried not to contemplate the worst-case scenario all day but it had still been there, lurking in the back of my mind. The sweet relief I felt that he was here with me was overwhelming.

  He pressed a kiss to my hair, then my forehead. I moved back slightly and his lips brushed my cheek. The touch sent a shiver through me and we both went still. The air between us grew thick and so heavy; it was hard to breathe.

  I’d had a death grip around his neck, but my hold loosened. His shoulders were wide and muscled under my palms. My hand moved to the back of his neck. The thick softness of his hair tempted me and I slid my fingers into it.

  His hands tightened on my hips. He’d stopped kissing me, but his lips were so near mine I could feel the warmth of his breath.

  We didn’t move and I hardly breathed. My heart was racing so fast I thought for sure he could feel it. I wanted him to kiss me so badly, I thought I’d die if he didn’t. Yet I didn’t move. I wanted Parker to make the decision, not me. I didn’t want to be rejected again.

  He breathed out, and I breathed in, his chest pushing against mine. Moving his head just slightly, his mouth brushed the corner of my lips—not in a kiss, just skin against skin. I held back a moan, my nails pressing into his nape.

  I was breathing much too fast, but couldn’t slow it down. His cheek was slightly roughened with whiskers and I closed my eyes, savoring the moment of closeness.

  “I should let you go,” he said, his lips moving against my skin. “I promised Ryker.”

  A flash of Ryker pointing the gun at me went through my head. I wondered what he was doing now … and if he was in Branna’s bed.

  “Ryker’s out of the picture,” I said, which was an understatement. But I didn’t think Parker would take very well to hearing that Ryker had nearly killed me today.

  “Thank God,” he murmured, then his lips finally met mine.

  It was pure pain and pleasure, the sweet culmination of such a strong desire, and I savored every moment, committing the taste and feel of him to memory.

  Parker. The man I’d committed nearly every waking moment to for over a year. Kissing me the way I’d watched Ryker kiss Branna today, as though we’d been waiting our whole lives for this moment. And it felt like I had.

  Lips and tongues and hands, breathing the same air, bodies touching and desperate passion fueling every kiss, every caress. This was the only moment that mattered.

  Parker had touched me before—in New York, in my apartment—but he hadn’t kissed me before. The intimacy of it suddenly struck me, perhaps more intimate even than having sex. The feel of his lips coaxing mine, the gentle br
ush of his tongue, sending an electric current through me.

  His hands moved to the hem of my tank, tugging it up over my head. My breasts ached for his touch and he didn’t make me wait, his palms cupping their weight as his thumbs brushed the hardened tips. I whimpered, wanting more, and impatiently yanked at his shirt until he relented, pulling back to tug it over his head.

  I’d heard it said that sex was better when it was with someone you loved, and maybe that’s what was different, because every brush of his skin against mine, every touch of his hand, seemed amplified with meaning. I wanted to show him how I felt, how much he meant to me, and what our relationship had become without having to hide behind the persona of work.

  Parker pressed me back, lowering me until my head touched the pillow. He followed me down, his chest against mine, still kissing me as he settled between my legs. His jeans were rough against my thighs, but I could feel him against my core and it sent a rush of heat through me.

  Pulling back slightly, Parker looked me in the eye, his hand brushing the hair back from my face.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, “in every way. And I’ve been so stupid, all this time. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

  I couldn’t help a small smile. Words I hadn’t even realized I’d been waiting to hear.

  “You’re making up for it now,” I said. His eyes were hard to see in the dim light, but I could make out the gleam in them as he looked at me.

  “This changes everything,” he said. “You know that. It’s not just sex. Not with you and me.”

  “I know.” But it was a relief to hear him say it.

  He kissed me again, his hands skating down my sides to the waistband of the shorts I wore. Pushing them down, he had to break our kiss and sit up to pull them off. When I was naked, I reached for him, but he took my hands in his, slotting our fingers together.

  I was self-conscious with him looking at me. Why had he stopped? Had he changed his mind?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, nerves knotting inside my belly.

  Parker shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to take a second and memorize this moment. I don’t ever want to forget it.”