Cruel Infatuation: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 3) Page 5
“How sure are you?” I ask, feeling one of those headaches Heaven was talking about a moment ago flare up in the back of my skull.
Zeke lifts his hand in the air and tilts it back and forth. “I’ll say sixty-forty. I think Richard recognized Heaven. It’s the last time I hook you guys up with a job. If dick for brains can’t keep it in his pants, then everyone is going to recognize him.”
“Hey, I didn’t fuck him. How the hell does he know me?”
Zeke turns on the stool and lifts the rocks glass in his hand, pinky up, showing the gawdy gold ring he has on it. “It turns out you fucked his daughter. Small fucking world, huh?” Zeke swallows the bourbon down and slaps the table. “Damn, that’s good!”
“I thought the cameras were taken out?” Jaxon glares at Sebastian, and Sebastian throws his elbow against the counter with a hard thud and drops his face in his hands.
“They were. I double checked.”
“It wasn’t the cameras,” Zeke confirms, pouring another glass of bourbon. “One of the guards survived. He said he might have noticed Heaven.”
“I don’t remember fucking Richard’s daughter. I don’t even know Richard. Are you sure?” Heaven tries to turn around from the couch, but he can’t. He huffs and slaps the cushion with his hand. “I’m telling you, I don’t—”
“Heather Lindsay, his step-daughter. Apparently, while you were a bit younger, in high school, you went to a party…” Zeke trails off, so Heaven can connect the dots.
“Nope. Nothing.” Heaven shrugs.
“Well, that guard was at the party, and he said it might have been you at the vault,” Zeke says.
“Might. That’s the keyword there, isn’t it?” Heaven’s chipper attitude about all this pisses me off, but right now, there’s nothing we can do.
“I’ll try to dive deep in the web, see if he’s been researching Heaven. If he finds Heaven, he can find us. I’ll scrub what I find.” Sebastian let’s out a heavy, exhausted sigh. Before he leaves the kitchen, he pours a mug of coffee, takes a gulp, and refills it before begrudgingly walking away.
“You better have kept your dick in your pants, Heaven, or I swear to God, I’ll rip it right off you.” Jaxon throws the empty bottle in Heaven’s lap before he vanishes from the room. He probably wants to go see Quinn.
Heaven rolls the bottle in his hands, staring down the darkened hall. “I think he’s mad at me.”
“You think?” I retort as my phone dings.
“It will be fine. If you want, I can hire someone to take Richard out. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy,” Zeke rambles, then hiccups. “Fuck.” He giggles. He fucking giggles! “I forgot how much of a lightweight I am.”
“Jesus Christ.” Owen stares at Zeke as he slips out of the chair and onto the floor, annihilated off two fingers of alcohol. “New rule—he gets no liquor. Ever. He sticks with beer.” Owen squats and picks Zeke up off the floor, carrying him like a groom would his bride on their wedding day. He must see the humor stretching across my face, and he narrows his eyes at me. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I defend myself, and Heaven holds out a hand, waiting for me to greet it with a high-five.
So I do.
Owen curls his lip in annoyance and looks down at Zeke, who is now snoring, head thrown over Owen’s arm. “He better hope this is jet lag because no man goes down this easy.”
“Maybe he didn’t eat today.”
“That’s a good point. Drinking on an empty tummy is not a good thing.” I pat Zeke’s stomach, and he laughs again, wiggling in Owen’s arms to escape the touch.
“Tickles,” he slurs.
“How is this man our lawyer? Someone might want to think about that and decide if we want a new one. He’s a train wreck.”
“Yeah, but he’s our train wreck,” Heaven adds with a tone filled with care as he turns on the TV. “Sweet, I love this movie.”
Bridesmaids.
“Hey, Grayson, which one are you? I think I’m the drunk one.”
“I’m not answering that question.”
“You’re the one getting married. For sure. All fun, kind of, then serious and gloomy. Yeah, you’re her.”
“Fuck you. I am not.” I am. I refuse to say that out loud. My phone vibrates again, reminding me I have a message. “Oh, shit!” I hope it isn’t Finley. I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her, but I get the impression she’s ignoring me.
We were talking constantly for a bit, and then she stopped messaging me out of the blue. I admitted I wanted to get to know her more, and I think I freaked her out. I pushed. I hurried. I should have known better with what her profile says. She wants to be friends and go slow, which is what I want.
And then I had to go and rush things because I’m impatient. I want to know how her voice sounds. Is it high-pitched? Low and raspy? Nasally?
God, don’t let it be nasally.
I pull my phone from my pocket and smile when I see her name across the screen. Maybe I don’t need to be too eager. Do I make her wait?
No. Never make a woman wait.
I swipe the message icon, my heart pounding when I see it’s a picture of her, but just of her from behind. She’s sitting cross-legged and looking out over a cliff, and various buildings are in her view.
Her hair glows a beautiful ruby color. Her skin is the color of milk. I bet she’s beautiful, and I bet that’s why she doesn’t want to show her face. She is used to guys only wanting her for her looks, and she wants to meet people the other way. Conversation.
Without communication, two people together are just sex.
FinleyPark: I’m sorry for being nonresponsive. I’m traveling. My service is iffy. Pretty cool view, right? North Carolina is gorgeous.
I’m not staring at the buildings. I’m staring at her, her body, her hair. She looks so small, delicate, and for the first time in eight years, I want to wrap my arms around another woman.
Love destroys everything. Trust no one.
The voice in the back of my head speaks up, reminding me of why I’ve been on guard all these years.
I press my fingers on the screen and zoom in, tilting my head to look at her shoulder. There’s a huge bruise on it.
IsaacGray88: Looks beautiful. I love traveling. Good to know you do too. What happened to your shoulder. Are you okay?
I’m not going to say she’s beautiful, not yet. The last thing I want is to spook her from saying she looks good when I really only know what her hair looks like.
FinleyPark: Ah, clumsy me. I fell and slammed my shoulder against a rail.
The common ‘I fell’ excuse. It could be the cynical side of me, and maybe she’s telling the truth, but my senses are telling me otherwise. Something happened. I can betray her trust and have Sebastian look into her, but I don’t want to do that. I want her to tell me on her own.
My phone buzzes again.
FinleyPark: Where do you live? Maybe on my travels I can see you. ; )
“Oh, fuck.” I fly out of my chair and run my fingers over the scruff on my face.
“What?” Heaven asks, trying to look over the couch at me.
“Um, nothing. Don’t worry about it. I thought I paid a bill, but I didn’t.”
“Oh, that sucks,” he says. “That’s okay. Call them, and it will get sorted out.”
“So positive,” I grit through a forced smile.
FinleyPark: I’m kidding. I’m not trying to stalk you.
IsaacGray88: No, sorry. I was talking to my friend. I live in Trinidad, California. All beaches. Right on the side of a cliff called ‘The Cliff House’.”
FinleyPark: Sounds like a dream.
Wanting some privacy, I head over to the sliding glass doors and step outside, closing it behind me. I bring my phone up and snap a picture, getting the infinity pool in it too. Damn, I live in a beautiful place. It’s warm out, and the sky is clear for the first time in a few days. The ocean is navy blue, and a hint of the cliffside can be seen across the way.
Muscle memory takes over, and I sit down on the red patio couch Quinn picked out. I get an idea and tap my fingers against my thigh, debating if I should do it. Fuck it, right? It’s all or nothing. I shrug my shirt off and toss it on the couch.
Step out of your comfort zone. Not everyone is bad. People can be trusted.
Why am I taking off my shirt? Because I have a nice body. Even if she only sees my back, I want her to know how good it looks. I want her to find me attractive. I know the easiest way would be to show my face. I want to see hers too, but I’m afraid our banter will change from joking to getting to know one another to sexual. I let sex ruin my life before. I had sex with Kendall on the first date and in the end, she was the one who fucked me over.
I’m not going to let my hormones get the best of me. At least, not yet.
I place my phone on the table and set it against the umbrella rod. I swipe the camera open again and angle it in the direction I want. I set the self-timer to ten seconds and run into place near the pool’s edge and turn around, giving her my back. I tense so my muscles seem more defined and shove my hands in my pocket as I stare out toward the ocean. When I hear the click of the camera, I run back and tap the thumbnail in the bottom left corner and analyze it.
“What are you doing?” Heaven leans against edge of the sliding glass door and crosses his arms.
“Nothing,” I answer and send the picture to Finley. I’m not going to chance him finding that photo of me. I click the gallery app and delete it. It’s only for Finley’s eyes.
“Your shirt’s off.”
“It’s hot out,” I say simply. “I’m thinking about going for a swim.” Heaven wobbles from the doorway to the patio table, sits down, and lifts his casted leg to the empty chair in
front of him.
I don’t like how hard he’s staring at me. I shuffle my feet and plop on the red couch again, hoping my phone goes off.
“I think you were taking semi-nudes,” Heaven says, lacing his fingers behind his head. “There’s no judgement. I get it. I think semi-nudes are hot. It sends a tease of what’s coming but not too much. It leaves the mind to imagine. Good for you for doing that. So how old is this chick? Do you like her? What are your plans?”
That overwhelming emotion I wanted to ignore? Pointless since Heaven exists. “Nothing. We’re just friends right now. I don’t want to be anything more. I like getting to know her. There isn’t any pressure. She’s traveling right now and sending me pictures of the sights.” It isn’t a lie. She is sending pictures. I grab my shirt off the cushion and debate if I want to put it back on. It’s nice to feel the sun. I’m always locked away in my room or on a mission.
I rub my fingers along the scar on my side, where the metal rod pierced me in the explosion on our last job. It hurt like hell, but I’m lucky, unlike Heaven, who broke his leg in two places. The rod went through and through, hitting nothing vital. Every now and then, I get a twinge of pain, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
What would Finley think about it? Do scars bother her?
“Mmmhmm,” Heaven hums, tilting his head back to enjoy the sun. “You know, we only give you shit about this because you aren’t forthcoming. You can trust us. We want you to be happy.”
“I’ll talk about it when I want to. It’s as simple as that.” My phone vibrates in my hand, and I grin when I see there are three messages from Finley waiting for me.
“Man, it’s been too fucking long since you’ve smiled. Good for you.” Heaven sits up and sways on one foot to get his balance, and then he hobbles over to the door again. “I’ll leave you alone.”
I feel bad now. I know Heaven is the kind of guy that loves to be around people, and right now, everyone gets to move around and do what they want while he has to watch from the sidelines. Internally I groan, “No, it’s fine. No big deal. Stay out here. We can hang out. It’s a nice day.”
I had no idea it was possible for him to run with a cast that goes from his thigh to his ankle, but he manages it. He plops down in the chair with a big smile on his face. “Can we talk about Finley?”
“No,” I say. “We can talk about anything other than her. I’m not ready to share her with anyone yet, Heaven. I barely know her. Once I get a better understanding of what I want and who she is, you’ll be the first to know.”
“You swear?” He leans forward with excitement, shaking his good leg like a dog getting scratched behind the ear. “Really?”
I slap his cast and grin, “Swear it. Want a beer? I’m going to go get us one.”
“Hell yeah. Thanks, man.”
I look over my shoulder before entering the house and see how happy Heaven is. Does he really feel left out? Do we need to try harder so he doesn’t feel ignored? He seems like he’s always searching for someone’s validation. I’ve never given a fuck about getting someone’s approval, but Heaven seems to thrive off it.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m a little worried about him.
When I step inside, the air conditioning hits me in the face, and it feels nice against my hot skin. Before I open the fridge, I check my phone, and my face heats hotter than the sun. There are a bunch of heart emojis at first and a smiling face.
FinleyPark: Wow, the view is gorgeous. The beach isn’t that bad either. ;)
I don’t know what to say. She’s flirting, right? She has to be flirting, but I don’t want to come off presumptuous. I’m going to keep it light and not sexual. Being sexual over the phone is bad, and there is no way I’m trusting someone I hardly know not to save my picture and post it on a porn site.
Talk about a nightmare.
I grab a few beers from the fridge and walk outside. Heaven has taken off his shirt and a few scars litter his chest. They are older, different from the scratches caused by the failed heist. I’m curious, but I don’t ask because he has never talked about them. I’m not going to pry.
I hate prying.
“Here you go.” I hand him an ice-cold beer and sit, wiping the condensation on my pants before grabbing my phone to reply to Finley.
“Thanks, man,” he says, twisting the cap off. It’s the best sound to a guy’s ears. The release of carbonation, the hiss of air. It’s fucking beautiful and is automatically relaxing.
IsaacGray88: Haha. Thanks. I love where I live. It’s beautiful, and the woods are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. If you’re ever up this way, I’ll take you into the Redwoods, and you’ll see the biggest trees of your life.
I press send and scroll up to the picture she sent me, seeing the faintest outline of her face as she turns her head. She has a small nose and long lashes, but I can’t see the color of her eyes. Her profile says green, but what kind of green? Light green, forest green, emerald? I want to know.
The buzzer of someone at the door sounds again, and I’m to my feet, pulling my gun from the back of my jeans. I throw the phone safely on the couch. “Stay out here, Heaven,” I warn him.
“Like I’m going anywhere.” He points to his leg. “Really?” He sounds astonished that I’d even ask the question.
The audacity of me.
I slink into the kitchen, and Jaxon is already at the screen. Owen and Sebastian are pointing their weapons at the door, but Jaxon moves his hand in a down gesture, telling everyone to lower their weapons.
No fucking way. The fact that we had Zeke ring for us was one thing, but two buzzes? Someone’s about to get a bullet in their head.
“How can I help you?” Jaxon says into the intercom, and he gives the screen an odd look with a furrowed brow.
“Hi. My name is Maggie Thorton. I’m with the Department of Child Services.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter Six
FINLEY
“What do you mean there are no more tickets until tomorrow?” I ask the older man behind the counter. He’s the kind of guy who has no patience. He huffs and scratches the side of his balding head. The hair he does have is black and greasy, hanging from above his ears to his shoulders. He has a missing front tooth, a mole on the side of his cheek, and he’s eyeing me like he’s never seen a woman before.
“What the hell do you think I mean, princess? There ain’t no tickets for the California Greyhound until tomorrow at six a.m. You just missed the bus.”
“I need to get to California now. Isn’t there another bus going to Nevada or something? Somewhere that isn’t here?” I readjust the strap on my backpack and bite my tongue as the nasty old man licks his lips.
“What? Kentucky too good for you, girl?” His eyes land on my boobs, which aren’t even noticeable right now, and my lips curls in disgust.
Isn’t there a guy out there who isn’t completely revolting?
“Say, who did that to your face, girl?” He spits a wad of chewing tobacco, and I hear a ding of a tin can. Since I can’t see the can behind the counter and filthy glass between us, I’m going to have to assume it’s there. I bet it’s never been emptied either.
God. I hate this area of Kentucky.
“None of your damn business. Are you going to help me out or not?” He’s a creep, but he isn’t worse than Trevor. If I can take on my stepdad and make it out alive, I can take on this asshole.
“Sorry, sugar. Ain’t no buses till tomorrow at six. I guess I’ll see you then.” He cackles, and his mouth is wide open, giving me a full view of his toothless gums on the bottom and brown spit.
I’m going to throw up. It’s safe to say.
“God, I hope not,” I mumble under my breath and step away from the bus ticket counter to let the next person get disappointed and sick.
The sun is blazing down on my shoulders, stinging the burnt skin. My cheeks are hot, and I’m exhausted. I’ve been on three buses. Two broke down, and on the last bus there was a man with intense body odor that stunk up the entire bus.
And now I’m sure I smell that way too.
I’m not sure of the town I’m in. I only saw the sign that said ‘Welcome to Kentucky’ but wherever I am, it’s small, the kind of small that if I blink, I may miss it. It reminds me of the old western towns I saw on Gunsmoke when I’d watch it with my dad. The stores and shops are made of old wood, and the ground is dirt. Clouds of dust constantly swirl in the air from the hot breeze and the constant traffic of people on horses.