"Was it ever hard being married to someone like him? The life you had? All those scandals. The violence. The hanger ons?"
"Why would you ask about that?"
"I just know someone a lot like him."
"A ball player?"
"No."
"Hmm, well my life with your father was a whirlwind. He was my first love, and it was exciting and even magical at times. I'm sorry if our life was hard on you, but we both did the best we could. Like all men, your father has his weaknesses. He's terribly insecure, so he uses women to validate himself. I thought he'd grow out of it, but he never did.
"He also feels guilty about his success. Most of the guys he grew up with are out of work, in jail, or are barely scraping by. So that's why he would hire all those guys that were security. They needed the work, and he needed them. They meant well, but they didn't really know what they were doing. So they made a couple of mistakes that resulted in a lot of people paying a high price including your father. This life isn't easy."
"So why are you and Dad still together?"
"It's complicated, Sloan. People aren't perfect. Love is hard. Nobody ever tells you that."
Twenty-Seven
Cutter
It's day three and I've had just about all I can take. The only reason why I haven't ripped this entire city fucking apart, is because Elizabeth sent me a text letting me know that Sloan is alive and breathing.
I use my key and enter the carriage house hoping I'll find Camden. He's never where he's supposed to be, but hopefully he's home with his head buried in a computer this time. I need his help.
"Cam!"
"Back here."
"Where's Jade?"
"Welcome home, dickwad. She's at the restaurant. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I need an address for Dan Pearson."
"Sloan's father?"
"Yeah. It's not listed."
"Well, yeah. He probably pays a lot of money to hide that information from the average crazy Joe." He gives me the side-eye.
"I need to find her."
"Is she in trouble?"
"I don't know. She hasn't been home in days. This isn't like her."
"This isn't like her? Now you're an expert on the glamazon?"
"We've been spending some time together. A lot of time. So no, this isn't like her."
"Did you talk to Elizabeth about it?"
"Yes, she heard from her, but she claims she doesn't know where she is. A boldface lie, and I can't even grill her about it, because she's all pregnant and that wouldn't be polite."
Camden chuckles and continues scrolling through a web page.
"So the glamazon's fine then."
"Until I put my eyeballs on her myself she's not fine."
"This is messy, Cut." He looks back up at me. "You're getting real messy. This is her parent's home you're trying to just stroll up to, and you seem real emotional now. Maybe you should wait until you calm down. Both you and I know all about your itchy trigger finger."
I squint my eyes at him. I know Camden like I know myself. He knows more than he's saying. He's being way too argumentative.
"What do you know? Any other time you would have given me the ride over there yourself. Why are you trying to stop me from handling this?"
"I'm just saying, Cut."
"You're saying what?"
"Roman is pissed at you."
"I don't give a shit about Roman right now!"
"He told you to leave the kid to him for exactly this reason. He could tell without any confirmation from me that you were catching feelings for Sloan eons ago and now look. You've made a mess."
That's what's going on.
"Did that Damien fucker touch Sloan?"
"Nothing like that. I would have told you that."
"The sister?"
"No."
"Then what?!"
Camden sighs.
"Sloan's job has you on tape. Yanking the boy's throat. Tapping his ribs a little with your fists. They're blaming the glamazon for it all. They don't want to prosecute because they don't want the press. They just want her to leave quickly and quietly. Hoping that she'll take her "drama" aka you with her. The kid set her up lovely. Made it look like she asked you to do that shit to him."
I scrub my face a couple times out of frustration. This is a clusterfuck. I should have never gone there. I should have gotten the security footage. I shouldn't have kept her in the dark about it either. She wasn't prepared. She must be furious. There's so much shit I should have done differently. No wonder she hates me.
"I'm going to kill him."
"One of the best handlers in the game can't convince a twenty-one-year-old loser to fall back? You could only be this sloppy because of a woman. You see what I'm talking about, little brother? It happens to the best of us. Love can cause you to make mistakes, but it's also a hell of a motivator to get you to fix them. Banging on her door and demanding that she talk to you won't work. Do what you do best and fix this shit. Make this right. That will bring your girl home, Cut. That's if she's your girl."
"I'd hoped to never see you again, Cutter King."
I look around the office at all of Newman's achievements. Graduate of Penn State. Graduate of Temple Law. City of Philadelphia Man Of The Year. District Attorney Of Philadelphia Plaque. Pictures of his kids on his desk. A girl and a boy. He could have lost it all if it weren't for me. All of this is worth way more than the money he paid. Even more than the information that he gave us about Stone. If you think about it, a man would pay almost any price to protect everything he holds dear. Everything he loves.
"How have you been faring, Newman?"
"I've been good. Got myself busy with work. Going to Paris next year with the family. I'm getting my shit together, King."
"Glad to hear it."
"I'm not sure what you said to my brother-in-law to keep him quiet about being shoved into the trunk of a car, but he hasn't said a word."
I don't know what Roman did to fix that situation, but I suppose everyone has their price or their secrets. I'm hoping that's the case. That's why I'm here.
"So, what brings you to my office?"
"I need your help."
"My help?" he asks as if he has no intentions of going down that road with me.
"Remember I told you that you owed me one for putting your ass up those couple of nights. Wifey thought you were away. That was extra."
He bows his head.
"Yes, now I remember. Tell me what you need."
Twenty-Eight
From: Dawn Pearson
To: Sloan Pearson
Re: Where are you?
Dear Sloan,
I'm writing this in case you are checking your emails, because clearly you aren't picking up your cell phone or your landline. I thought about having my mom call you. Thought you may be avoiding my calls, but it's okay if you are. It might be better that I'm writing this anyway.
I've been really angry and really sad for a long time, and you've been one of the only people in my life who put up with me. So thank you. You were right about, Damien. He wasn't very nice to me. He had all these thoughts about what a good girlfriend was, and when I didn't live up to them, he said mean things. Nasty things. Things that made me really sad. Things that made me not want to do anything but go to school and sleep.
It doesn't matter now. He's decided that I'm too immature for him and has started seeing another girl that he met at a bar I think. So it's over, and I just wanted to tell you that we were done, and that I'm sorry he hit you, and that I'm really, really sorry that I didn't say so.
Your sister,
Dawn
P.S. That criminal (lol!) is looking for you. You better go home. He's actually a nice guy once you talk to him.
Twenty-Nine
Sloan
After reading her email, I end up talking with my sister for close to forty minutes on the phone about all types of things. The prom. Her grades. Marsha. Our dad. Us. It was cathartic and
frankly the best conversation we've ever had. If I was a crier, I would have shed a tear or two. Dawn and I will never be the same. I feel it in my bones that we're going to have a closer relationship now, and I know that's primarily due to the P.S. mentioned in the letter.
Him.
I've never spent as much time as I have today thinking about what to wear. In the past, I've always considered what I was in the mood to wear. What cuts look best on me. What pants would make my ass not look so big. What color would complement my coloring. But today all I care about is who I'm dressing for.
Him.
I decided to take my mother up on her offer of a shopping spree and look for the perfect dress. It takes me an hour and four stores to find it. Upon first sight, it doesn't look like much. A simple strapless dress. Short. Purple. But on me it looks like a garment made with my exact measurements and motive in mind. Fits like a glove.
When I arrive to Lotus, the air is heavy with sweat and seduction, but I know that he isn't here yet. I can just feel that there's something missing, because whenever Cutter is around he takes up the entire space.
I notice Marco tending the main bar as usual and ask him for a glass of shiraz. Not just because I want a drink, but because this is the best seat in the house. There's no way Cutter can miss me when he comes in. No matter what entrance.
How do I know he's coming? Cutter has spies everywhere. Someone in this club is going to tell him that I'm here, and if I know him like I think I do, he'll come looking for me immediately.
"You look especially gorgeous tonight, Sloan," Marco says.
"Thank you." I smile.
Marco and I continue making small talk about his new car, club gossip, and how Elizabeth is feeling now that she's in the second trimester of her pregnancy. We're deep in our conversation when a man approaches me who I've never seen before. He's a bit overdressed for the temperature of the club, it gets really hot in here, but that's probably because it's his first time and he doesn't know any better.
He slides an American Express card across the counter to start a tab and asks Marco for a whiskey neat. While he waits for his drink to be prepared, he strikes up a conversation with me.
"Is it always like this in here?"
"Pretty much. Is this your first time?"
"How did you know?"
"You have on way too many clothes. It gets really hot in here."
"You'd think they'd have a better air system," he says. "That's my line of work by the way. That's the only reason why I have an opinion."
"Oh, gotcha."
"Just out of curiosity are you seeing anyone?"
I smile as I consider the question. "I am."
And that's when I feel it. The buzz in the air that alerts me to his presence. The king is definitely in the building. That didn't take long. I turn my head immediately in his direction while the man I'm next to is still talking about something. I'm not sure what. It doesn't matter, because my entire reason for being here just walked through the door.
I can see the top of his head as he moves with large confident strides through the crowd and across the room. I'm a little disappointed that he's not looking at me, but surveying the entire crowd instead as he moves. I wonder if he sees me. I wonder if he's even looking for me.
My question is quickly answered when all of a sudden, his eyes find mine. He stops directly in from of me and holds me in place with his eyes. He doesn't say one word, but just all of a sudden bends down and slides one of his hands in my hair, behind my ear, and plants a kiss on my lips that makes me weak with need.
It's a powerful kiss. A kiss that is trying to communicate a million things. Telling me in more ways than one that Cutter missed me. That he wants me. That he's mad at me. That he's relieved to see me. I can feel every single thing he's trying to say. I don't need the words. I hope my kiss is saying them too.
Fireworks and fireflies.
When he pulls back from me, I notice that the man I was talking to hasn't left my side and is in fact watching us.
"Thanks for keeping my girl company, Midland. I appreciate it. Your next round is on me."
"No problem, Cut. She was easy to find like you said she'd be. The most beautiful woman in the room."
"You know him?" I say.
"I know a lot of people."
"You had him keep an eye on me?"
"I had him keep you company until I got here. That's all."
"I think he was testing me. He asked me if I was available."
Cutters rakes his eyes up and down my entire body, as if he's doing an inventory check. Making sure all the parts are present and working.
"And what did you say?"
"What do you think I said?"
"The right answer would have been hell no."
"I wouldn't speak that rudely to a stranger like some people I know."
He grabs one of my hands and lifts my wrist to his mouth.
"Don't ever do that shit again, princess. I worried like crazy about you. This was some mean shit you did to me. If Cam hadn't talked me off the ledge, your mother and I would not have had a good first meeting."
"What were you planning?" I giggle just imagining what he had in mind.
"I was going to camp out on your front lawn, and if that didn't work I would have used a pocket knife to pick the lock."
"Yes, that would not have gone over well. How did you know I was even there?"
"Now what kind of fixer would I be if I didn't know how to find people? Plus, I went to every place I thought you could be. That was the only place left."
"Did you go to my job?" Worried that he may have put himself in harm's way.
"I did."
"You shouldn't have done that. I should have called you earlier to tell you, but Damien–"
"Maybe we should go home and talk about this."
"No, I want to talk about it now. I need to tell you why I've been tripping out for the last few days. A lot of crap happened in the last seventy-two hours, and I mistakingly blamed most of it on you."
"I already know about everything that happened. Damien set us up. Your job asked you to leave. That Regan bitch stole your client. I went to your job, so I could have a meeting with Mr. Stokes about it all. Thanks to a little information that an old client gave me, he and I were able to have a long conversation about how I could help him with a problem that he's having at home.”
“What kind of problem?”
“That’s confidential, babe, but he was so grateful for my assistance, that he said he'd be happy if you'd stay with the company. He even said that he had some ideas about expanding your territory to help make up for the loss of the doctor’s business.
"You blamed me for everything, because it was my fault. All of it. That kid knew I was going to flip when I found out he worked in your building. He baited me. And I know I could have handled things differently when you were out with the doctor. I was just so angry. You looked like you were having such a good time with him. I was jealous as fuck. Apparently I’m a bit of an asshole when I’m jealous, Princess.“
"Shhh, you talk too much," I say pulling him closer to me. "This is a club not a therapy session."
He bends down and kisses me again. This time the kiss is slower. Sexier. Not as desperate. I run my hand across the top of his head, and down his neck, doing my own sort of exploratory check.
He groans in my mouth. "Let's go home, baby."
"Not until you dance with me," I say.
"I'll dance with you at home all night if you want. We can dance naked. We can dance while we eat bacon. We can dance while we watch Downton Abbey."
I laugh at him.
"Sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?" He smiles brightly.
"I want to dance with you here. Where everyone can see that the king is taken."
He holds me around my waist and leans his forehead against mine.
"Is he?"
"If he wants to be."
"He does."
"Then he should dance wi
th me."
There's a reason why the club is one of Cutter's favorite businesses to manage. It's obvious that he loves music, and he's a terrific dancer, which is sometimes difficult when you're as tall and muscularly built as he is. I could stay in his arms all night.
"You're a great dancer. Why didn't I know this about you?”
"I never dance in public."
"Why?"
"It ruins the persona. I'm supposed to be a charismatic tough guy in here."
"That's not your persona."
"Then I'm in big trouble."
"You're the good guy in the white hat. The friend who protects. The brother who worries. The boss who cares. The lover who–"
"The lover who what?"
We're swaying and grinding against each other's bodies closer now. I can feel how stiff Cutter is through his jeans. It reminds me of all that I've been missing this time we've been apart.
"You see what you do to me, princess?"
"I can feel it," I say seductively.
"This dress is sexy as fuck. You should be wearing it while tied up somewhere in my house. Dress up to your waist. Wall against your face.”
His words make my core clench.
”I wore it for you, so you better like it."
"Is purple your favorite color? First the vibrator, now the dress."
I wrap my arms around his neck as we continue to dance. Rocking our hips back and forth against each other. This probably isn't the best idea, because I'm not wearing any panties, and I'm getting wetter by the minute.
"Purple is the color of royalty, and since I belong to the king, I thought it only fitting that I wear his royal colors."
A wicked grin spreads across Cutter's face.
"Can we go home yet, because you're talking all types of sexy shit that's going to get you into a lot of trouble in this club. I'm not adverse to spreading you out on that bar top and licking you clean for the entire club to see."
"You'd never do that!"
"I'm into a lot of shit, princess. You still don't know the half of it."
Indebted To A King Page 21