“Shit,” Noon murmured. “I, uh… didn’t mean to…”
Taking the interruption as an opportunity to regain her senses, Harlow clambered off Ryske’s lap, running one hand through her hair and the other over her hip.
“Oh, come on!” Ryske groaned, trying to catch her legs, but she pushed his hands away. “Come back, baby.”
“No, I… I have to get going.”
Noon pointed over his shoulder. “I can fuck off. I didn’t know you guys were screwing around in here. I—”
“No,” she said, pulling her top down over her stomach. Ryske had explored more than she’d realized; the fabric had been bunched under her bra. “Can you give me a ride home?”
“I’ll give you a ride,” Ryske said, touching the inside of her knee.
Swatting at his hand, she didn’t make contact. “No, thank you,” she said, crossing one leg over the other to side step away from him. “Noon does all the driving.”
Heading for Noon who was still by the door carrying an awkward air, Harlow tried not to show just how grateful she was to him for interrupting what would only have ended one way.
Grabbing Noon’s hand, she took him out of the room and through the bar, the same way Dover had brought her. Harlow didn’t slow down when she got to the other side of the bar, even when she noticed Dover frowning at the view of her dragging Noon along behind her.
The bartender probably expected if she was going to be stealing any man out of Floyd’s, it wouldn’t be this one. But she wasn’t going to hang around to explain herself. That would give Ryske time to put on his shirt and chase after them… and she wasn’t all that sure she had an explanation anyway… not a believable one.
Bursting out onto the street, Harlow was determined to get home as quickly as she could. “What’s going on?” Noon asked, lolloping along with his hand linked in hers.
It occurred to her that there was one man she’d forgotten to worry about. Stopping, she whirled around to point back the way they’d come. “Clyde?”
“Stayed with the Soto’s,” Noon said.
Whether or not Clyde had volunteered to go with Felipe or to stay with him, he’d be able to call a cab from the Soto’s meaning he was safe, which was a step up from what he’d been at Floyd’s. She’d have a lot of explaining to do when she got to work the following day, not only to Clyde for Ryske’s behavior, but to Gina about Felipe. But that was a problem she’d worry about in the morning.
Returning to her previous determination, Harlow clung to Noon’s hand, using it to pull him into the alley at the rear of Floyd’s where they’d parked the car.
There seemed to be no urgency to Noon’s movements; his dawdling was driving her nuts. “Can we get going?” she asked, glancing at the building beside them.
The closest window was making her nervous. The ones further along that were fogged and emanating some light would be the restrooms, but the one closest to the street was darker. That was the window next to the TV unit in the den… where she and Ryske had…
Trying her best to swing Noon toward the car as she let him go, she followed the move with a push then hurried around to the passenger side. “I don’t have my keys,” he said, touching the hip pockets of his jeans.
After a moment of panic made her mouth open in a silent gasp, her skepticism flared, and she folded her arms against the car. “You’re a car thief.”
His brows rose. “You want me to jack my own car?”
Shaking her head, she grinned. “Your car? Really? Is that the line?” It only took a moment of staring for his smile to crack. Pushing off the car, she opened her hands to it. “Come on, impress me, Cowboy.”
“That’s her line, Noon,” Ryske’s voice came from nowhere, erasing the smile from her face. “Don’t fall for it.”
Movement from the direction opposite to the one she and Noon had come caught her eye. Ryske was emerging from the narrow space between the far end of Floyd’s and the next building. That had to be a dead end alley; there was no space between the two structures on the street side.
So she guessed she’d found Floyd’s secret entrance.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
The question was moot. The car was the only thing on his current path. When he got to the trunk, Ryske tossed something to Noon. It had to be the car keys because a second later, Noon was climbing into the driver’s seat.
Ryske had come around and startled her attention away from where Noon had been by opening the back passenger door and gesturing for her to get inside.
Though he seemed to think he was being chivalrous, she tilted her head. “Oh, because you’re the guy, you get to ride up front?” she asked.
Rather than make it a big deal, Harlow settled for scowling at him and started to round the door. But just as she was about to lower into the backseat, he sprang forward, using himself and the door to pin her in place.
“You asking me to get in the back with you? I can do that, baby… What you wanna do back there, Trink?”
Bending his elbows, he leaned in, giving her even less space. The smirk on his face was enough to make her think about kneeing him in a sensitive area, but she restrained herself and sneered instead.
“You’d really do it, wouldn’t you?” she asked. “You’d have sex right there behind your friend.”
He shrugged. “Noon’s seen me do worse.”
Grabbing his arm, she dug her nails in deep while pushing it out of her way. “Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second.”
Climbing into the car, Harlow was quick to turn and reach for the door, holding up a hand to prevent him from getting in with her. “Ah!”
Twisting her wrist, she pointed to the front of the car. Without hiding his amusement, Ryske stepped back and closed her door before getting in next to Noon who had already started the car.
They drove a couple of blocks before the silence got too much for Noon. “So what’s the story with you two?” he asked. “You back on or…”
“She was on me,” Ryske said, messing with the AC. “And I’m happy for her to be on me any time, any day.”
“In your dreams, Crash.”
“Every night.”
“We’ve never had a woman on the crew before,” Noon said, like he was pondering the future and how it would play out. “You tell her about Ophelia?”
The next silence was far more loaded. Ryske’s anger fizzled, heating the air, which made Noon tense up as he figured out that he’d just put his foot in his mouth. Difficult as it was to hear that Ryske had another woman in his life, she chose to laugh instead of cry.
“Go with it,” she said, sliding down in the center of the backseat. “That’s what you said to me earlier, Noon, honey.” If this was what he was talking about then he should have been more explicit. “Is that what Dover meant? Ryske and his women? I’m supposed to go with that? You don’t have to worry, Noon, he can keep his women and keep making you all rich. It means nothing to me.”
Twisting to look over the shoulder of his chair, Ryske pinned her in his sights. “Nothing? You had enough?”
“Oh, I have had enough, Ryske. More than enough.”
Folding her hands in her lap, she turned her attention to the street. Noon might be annoyed at himself for opening his mouth about this Ophelia. Ryske might be pissed at his friend for telling her that there was another woman. But if Harlow had stepped back from her attraction to look at his life, she’d have realized that there was a reason Ryske kept saying he couldn’t make her promises.
Considering his life and the things he had to do to fulfil his role with his crew, Harlow saw that his refusal to promise her anything was about more than just his own selfish need to be promiscuous. Dover, Noon, and Maze, all had roles. She didn’t understand what they were exactly, but Ryske was the man they sent inside to infiltrate or to charm.
That being the case, she imagined there were plenty of times his role involved seducing a woman. Harlow had once asked him how many women he’d made fall in love with him. While he’d refused to be specific, he’d been man enough to admit that he’d hurt women. Whether he felt bad about that or not, he was aware of his power. Though maybe not aware enough, because she’d put good money on most of the women he charmed and seduced falling in love with him.
It wouldn’t be a hard thing to do. If Ryske had told her what she’d wanted to hear, she’d be in his bed, enjoying their affair and she didn’t doubt she’d have handed him her heart by now. Sure, he’d have handed it back at some point and she’d have ended up hating him. But he’d still have made her fall in love with him in the first place.
They pulled up outside her apartment. Harlow didn’t wait to hear what Ryske said to Noon after she kissed the driver’s cheek. She was out of the vehicle and on the sidewalk heading for the stoop when she heard the other car door close behind her.
“Trink.”
It was her intention to ignore him. There was nothing he could say that would change things between them. Finding out that this Ophelia was a part of the equation too, Harlow knew that even if she’d been tempted to say to hell with it and give herself to Ryske before, there was zero chance of it now.
She was on the third step when he grabbed her and pulled her back down to the first one. That was when she noticed Noon was no longer there, the car was gone from the curb.
“Do you think I’ll feel sorry for you and invite you up?” she asked. “You told Noon to leave, that’s your bad. Get a cab.”
“I’m not sleeping with her.”
Frustrated and tired, she was aware of the hour and that she’d have to get up for work in the morning. Harlow didn’t have time to deal with drama like this.
“I don’t care, Crash,” she said on a sigh. “Sleep with whomever you like. One of us should be getting some.”
Something like swagger touched his expression. “If you want some, I’m right here to give it to you.”
“Go find Ophelia,” she said, but was pulled back again when she tried to retreat. “Damnit, Crash, stop doing that. I’m going upstairs now. Alone. I don’t want you to join me. I don’t want you to follow me.”
For a moment, he examined her. His look of concern became one of admiration. “Wow, I actually believed that. You’re a natural.”
“This again?” she asked, trying not to groan. “I do not want to be on your crew, Ryske. I want you to leave me alone.”
Turned out he did start to believe her. His concern returned and was followed by anger. “So that’s it? A month goes by with nothing, you need something, we drop everything to help and then you’re just gone again?”
Doubting his outburst was really any demand for payment, she set a hand on her hip. “What would you like? Because I’ll tell you what you’re not getting. You’re not getting a date. A blowjob. A hand job. Sex of any variety. Or any kind of kiss. If you want any of that, go call Ophelia.”
Frustration flavored his words. “I’m not sleeping with her,” he said, and still hadn’t let go of her arm. Pulling her down the last step onto the sidewalk, he lowered his volume. “She’s our inside man. We’re in because of her.”
“Good. Great,” she said, without an ounce of enthusiasm. “Why do I care?”
Angling his head, he peered into her. “I don’t know, Trink. Do you care?”
She didn’t hesitate to shake her head. “No, I don’t care, because in the car just now I realized you’re right. You can’t make me promises and I don’t want them. We can’t be together, but it’s not because you won’t promise me forever, it’s because I’ll never be able to trust you to be faithful.”
That made him let her go and step away. “If you’re done wanting promises, invite me up. Let’s fuck. Let’s get it over with.”
The demand was too angry for her to believe that he wanted the invitation. “You should be pleased this has happened,” she said. “You didn’t want me to want a future and now I’m saying I don’t… That doesn’t mean I want to drop my panties for you either.”
Unimpressed and still angry, he bobbed his head. “You want your reliable guy.”
She smiled and took her keys from her pocket. “I would never have considered you to be a reliable guy. I could’ve got over that. I might even have gotten over the flirtations you’d have to engage in for your work, maybe even some of the physical stuff…”
His eyes narrowed. “But?”
All along he’d been honest with her, so she gave him the same. “I always thought I’d go crazy with worry. We met after you were stabbed for goodness sake. It makes sense that I’d be terrified that could happen again. I told you that when you left my place. But I think I could handle that better… I could handle worrying about you being hurt easier than I could handle the idea of you falling for another woman.”
Searching her eyes, he didn’t respond for a score of seconds. “You think we’d get together and then I’d fall for another woman and abandon you?” Though she didn’t say it out right, she lifted one shoulder and closed her eyes in a slow blink of acceptance. “Like my mom you mean?”
That changed her confidence and clarified his anger for her. Making assumptions about the kind of man he was hurt him. Especially when those assumptions clashed with the thing he hated most about one of his parents.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t think that maybe that’s why I don’t make those promises?” he asked. “You were special. You were something real to me, something tangible. In a world full of bullshit. You were real. My Trinket… I told you I couldn’t make you promises… but fuck, I was close, baby… Shit, I was rethinking my whole damn life for you.”
Numbness hollowed her out. “All of that was past tense.”
He was shaking his head in a shallow arc, looking into her like he didn’t recognize her. “If you think I’m capable of that… If you think I’m the type of guy who would make you a promise, a for real promise, and then break it for the next piece of ass I touched… Shit, baby, you don’t have a damn clue who I am.”
His words stopped. Like he couldn’t look at her anymore, he turned and walked away, never once looking back.
She’d offended him. No, she’d hurt him. Confessing the truth of his parentage to her probably hadn’t been easy for him. Harlow had heard the words as he’d said them, but had failed to absorb what they meant to his psyche and how they’d shaped who he was.
Ryske was a professional. He understood the difference between pretend for professional sake and real in his personal life. That was why he was so adamant about what he would and wouldn’t say to her. Harlow wasn’t professional to him. If she was, he’d say anything to her to get what he wanted, even if it was just sex.
She’d been personal.
Ryske, her Crash, would only be with a woman in his real personal life if she understood he was hers completely, even in spite of the professional bullshit.
He hadn’t made her a promise. If he had, it wouldn’t have mattered how many females he touched for the job, how many he seduced, he’d always come home to her, always love her.
Harlow watched him go until she couldn’t see him anymore and didn’t even notice the cold air biting into her skin. He’d accused her of abandoning the crew as soon as she’d gotten what she wanted. But after how things had just ended, there was no way she could never see them again.
She had to fix this. She just didn’t know how.