Gretchen sat at the bar sipping the glass of whiskey Amber had had waiting for her when she left the stage. She had been back at the club for two days, but she couldn’t find her rhythm. She was sure it had something to do with the news that Finn had left town shortly after their trip to the cabin, only to return with Ronnie Sinclair and the fact that neither of them had shown up since Gretchen had been back to work.
“Care to dance?”
Gretchen turned at the sound of the deep voice behind her and couldn’t help the smile that stretched her lips.
“I’d love to,” she replied, biting her lip slightly and letting him lead her to the dance floor.
“Are you any good?” she teased when they were on the floor, and he grinned before taking her hips firmly in his hands and pulling her against him.
“Not nearly as good as you were on that pole,” he whispered in her ear, “but I think I’ll manage.”
“You were here for that?” She scrunched her nose slightly and looked up into Neil’s dark eyes.
“Oh yeah,” he smirked, and she was suddenly aware of the feel of him against her.
“Why?” she asked him nervously.
“Couple of reasons,” he answered. “I wanted to apologize for the other day, and I heard Finley arrived in town with Sinclair. I wanted to make sure you were still okay.” He pulled her closer and bent, his mouth only a breath from her ear so that when he spoke it tickled the hair at her nape. “I’ve also got news about Ronnie. Is there somewhere we can go?”
Gretchen noticed a few of the bouncers watching her closely as she danced, but since most of them spent their shifts deciding which of the dancers or waitresses they were going to sleep with that night, she didn’t pay much attention, until she nodded and turned, pulling Neil behind her toward her private room.
“Excuse me.” Grant spoke gruffly, stepping in front of her. She felt her partner bump her slightly as they came to a stop, and his hand went firmly to her waist.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Neil asked.
“You need to take your hand off her,” Grant told him.
Neil laughed and stepped to her side, his hand sliding possessively up her body until his arm rested around her shoulders.
“She doesn’t seem to mind,” he snickered, “now let us have fun.”
He turned back to Gretchen, but Grant reached out and spun him around.
“Mr. Finley has given orders for me to personally beat the shit out of anyone who touches her.” Grant smiled lethally. “I was trying to be nice.”
“Mr. Finley?” Neil asked as if he couldn’t care less, and Gretchen was fairly certain that he couldn’t. Neil came across as laid-back and even a little nerdy, but he was a fierce and dirty fighter. To date, she had never seen him lose, and she knew it had been a while since he had gotten his hands on anyone. She just hoped he remembered what revealing his identity could do to her cover now.
“You can tell Mr. Finley to go fuck himself.” Gretchen pushed her way between the two men.
“Jay asked me to look out for you.” Grant was the picture of composure as he faced off with her.
“I’m sure he meant for you to intervene if someone was dragging me out by my hair,” she almost yelled in exasperation.
Grant shook his head, letting his eyes dart to Neil.
“His exact words were ‘if anyone touches her, rip their fucking hands off’.” His eyes shifted to her for just a moment before going back to Neil.
Gretchen let out an exasperated huff, resisting the urge to stomp her stilettoed foot.
“We’re going back to my room,” she explained to Grant, taking Neil’s hand and pushing past Grant.
“You don’t understand,” Grant told her.
“No,” Gretchen snapped, her patience finally depleted. “You don’t understand. I can take my friend in the back and take care of him, or I can leave this club with him and take care of him longer, but I absolutely am not sending him away because Jay-motherfucking-Finley says so.”
Gretchen could have sworn she saw Grant trying to suppress a laugh. Behind her, Neil wasn’t bothering to hide his.
“Damn, baby.” He planted a firm kiss on her cheek. “Let’s go.”
Gretchen gave Grant another warning look before she led Neil to her private room.
* * * * *
Gretchen was nervous when she and Neil stepped out of her room over an hour later. She knew that once she explained to Finn that Neil was her partner, he would understand why she had been so defiant of his orders. It still made her angry he thought he could dictate every aspect of her life while he was out screwing a woman Neil had assured her had no redeeming qualities. She walked Neil back to the bar, raising up to her tiptoes to kiss him briefly on the lips before watching him walk to a table in the back corner where two of their fellow agents sat. They grinned and held up their glasses when she spotted them.
Gretchen turned back toward the dance floor, deciding to make her way backstage to wait for her next performance. She almost tripped as she passed by Carlisle’s table and spotted the busty redhead seated beside him. Ronnie Sinclair had arrived and was apparently holding court, if the crowd gathered at the table were any indication.
“Lilah,” Carlisle called out to her, and Gretchen made her way over, plastering a smile on her face.
“Hello, Mr. Carlisle.” She bent and kissed him as she always did when greeting him. She had learned early on that he liked the attention, and the girls willing to give him a small amount without prompting usually ended up having to dole out less in the long run. Carlisle was grinning at her when she pulled away and he turned to the woman next to him.
“Lilah, this is Ronnie,” he introduced her. “She’s my greatest success story.” He put an arm around the other woman and smiled like a proud father talking about his daughter. “The two of you have a lot in common.” He winked at Gretchen, and she smiled broadly, extending a hand toward Ronnie.
“I’ve heard Mr. Carlisle and his associates talk fondly of you,” she greeted.
Ronnie gave an obviously fake smile and ignored Gretchen’s hand so that she was forced to drop it without acknowledgement.
“I’m sure you have,” she told Gretchen and looked toward the door, her smile brightening. Gretchen turned, following her gaze, hoping that she was wrong about what she would see, shaking her head when she wasn’t. Finn was coming through the door in a black suit and black shirt, left unbuttoned at the neck, looking entirely too lethal and sexy for anyone’s good.
Gretchen stepped back slightly, moving closer to Mr. Carlisle. She tried to tell herself that whatever happened next was all part of the game, all part of the roles she and Finn had to play when they were here, but despite what Finn had said at his cabin, she couldn’t escape the same doubt about which version of Finn was truer.
“Jay,” Ronnie called, sliding from the booth and meeting him in the aisle. Her arms went around his neck, and she pulled her body against his, before her lips took his possessively.
Gretchen somehow managed to look on without any indication the pain stabbing at her heart had her suddenly feeling the need to vomit. She leaned against Mr. Carlisle’s chair. She had been told when she began working at the club that once he called her over, she wasn’t to leave until he dismissed her. So she stood now, watching as Finn’s hands slid from the other woman’s back down to her hips before he pulled away.
Gretchen stifled a yawn and felt Carlisle’s chuckle against her side.
“Is the show boring you, my dear?” he asked, turning from Finn and Ronnie to look up at her.
“I’ve certainly seen better.” She shrugged with a bright smile.
“You remind me of her. You could be more than a dancer one day.”
“You mean I could be a hooker?” Gretchen ventured sarcastically, raising her eyebrow in a move that had Carlisle chuckling again.
“I mean you could be your own boss, Lilah. You could be running things for yourself.”
“And what makes you think I want that?” She bent down so that the two of them were speaking only a breath away from each other.
“I know brains when I see them,” he told her seriously. “You won’t be able to hide it behind those tits forever.”
Gretchen smiled and straightened. Sometimes she almost felt guilty for what she was doing to Raymond Carlisle. If she could look past the drug running and prostitution, he really was a sweet old man.
“Speaking of my tits,” she told him, “I’ll be back on stage soon, do you mind if I grab a drink first?”
“Of course,” he answered. “Why don’t you see if Jay needs anything?”
He winked, and Gretchen knew that he was trying to create a confrontation. She smiled sweetly, determined to foil his plans.
“Mr. Finley,” she smiled sweetly as she approached Finn. “Is there anything that I can get you?”
Finn looked up, his gray eyes meeting Gretchen’s. For once he was glad that she was in her wig and contacts; it made it easier to pretend he didn’t love her, that he hadn’t missed her voice and her touch like an addict would miss his drug of choice. But then she smiled and there was no pretending she was someone else. Gretchen may have changed over the years from girl to woman, but there was no changing the way her smile had always made him feel as if he were capable of being better. Now as she moved near, but not touching, even his dick responded immediately to her closeness.
“Mr. Finley,” she started again when he didn’t answer.
“Just a Coke,” he managed with a swift shake of his head.
“Yes sir.”
She walked past him, close enough that he could smell the familiar scent of her soap under the cheap perfume she wore to the club, but still she didn’t touch him.
“Come sit with me.” Ronnie was pulling him to the booth, but he saw that Grant was approaching, and he held back, waiting for the man as Ronnie slid in beside Carlisle.
“Something wrong?” he asked when Grant stopped beside him.
“Lilah and I had a small confrontation tonight,” Grant began.
“I’m sure that’s an understatement.” The corner of Finn’s mouth turned up and he shook his head. “I’ve never known her to half-ass anything.”
Grant gave him an odd look and he realized how familiar his comment had sounded.
“She was dancing with a guy,” Grant pushed forward.
“Jay,” Ronnie beckoned, interrupting Grant’s next words.
Finn nodded and thanked him, glancing toward where Gretchen stood at the bar, ordering drinks and sneaking glances at the table in the back corner.
“That’s not all.” Grant was trying, but Ronnie shot the other man an annoyed look, and Grant hesitated.
Finn wished that Ronnie wasn’t here. He regretted not trying harder to explain about Ronnie while he and Gretchen were at the cabin, but he hadn’t wanted to taint his time with her with talk of the other woman.
It had been almost eight months since he had last been with Ronnie, but he knew she would try to stake her claim as she always did. They had a routine, everyone knew they did, and he had to play it out, just as he would have before he knew he was in love with the enemy. He just hoped Gretchen wouldn’t do anything stupid before Ronnie left, which would hopefully be soon.
Gretchen walked away from the bar with his drink in her small hand. He watched her as she made her way through the crowd, unable to ignore the lecherous looks being cast her way. She came to a stop in front of him and held out his glass. He took it, brushing his fingers against hers as he did. She didn’t meet his eyes, only pulled her hand away and sipped from her own glass.
“Grant tells me you had an admirer tonight,” he told her, watching her over the rim of his glass.
She shrugged absently, drawing his eyes to where her breasts pushed at the top of her dress.
“Is that all he told you?” She smiled, but he knew it wasn’t genuine.
He clenched his jaw. “What else is there?”
“If he didn’t report anything, there must not have been anything.”
“I told you I didn’t want anyone else touching you,” he whispered, moving closer to her.
“Of course.” Her smile dripped sarcasm. “You’re the only one who gets to play wherever you want.”
He had suspected she would be upset about Ronnie, but she had done such a good job hiding it so far. He could see now that she was seething inside.
He opened his mouth to try to explain things to her, but she looked away, nodding to the DJ as she was reminded to get backstage.
“If you’ll excuse me.” She brushed him off, finishing her glass of whiskey and placing it on the table beside her. “I’m up next.”
Finn watched her walk away before taking the seat beside Ronnie with a heightening sense of dread.
* * * * *
Gretchen was feeling the effects of the whiskey she had been drinking in a futile attempt to calm her nerves. That was the only explanation she had for why she was stepping onto the stage now to the slow beat of The Weeknd’s Wicked Games instead of the funky beat she had danced to earlier. She looked up, her eyes finding Finn as he sat by Ronnie in the booth. The other woman had slid close to him, her breasts pressed into his arm as she leaned up and spoke into his ear. Gretchen smirked and began moving her hips slowly side to side, running her hands up her stomach and over her breasts before turning and giving a slow shake of her ass, sliding her hands down her legs as she bent over. She made her way around the pole, facing the crowd again as she began rolling her body, her sex coming closer and closer to the pole with each roll before she wrapped a leg around it and spun, sliding her body against the cool metal. She stopped thinking of Finn as she danced, forgetting everything but the routine she had choreographed and the way the music made her feel. When the song ended, the crowd was silent for a moment before someone let out a loud whistle and they began to applaud. Gretchen gave a cocky smirk and winked before she turned and left the stage.
“Damn,” Ronnie whispered in Finn’s ear. “She’s good. I didn’t pay her enough attention earlier. What’s her name again?”
Finn felt her lean into him, but he didn’t turn his eyes away from the stage and where Gretchen was coming out from behind the curtain. He heard the table of guys in the back erupt in applause and wolf whistles before Gretchen turned their way and began to blush. She shook her head and went down the hall to her private room.
Finn pushed away from the table, heading toward the back of the club when he was intercepted by Grant.
“Don’t,” Grant warned.
“They’re harassing her,” Finn answered him in fake politeness. Grant gave him a pointed look and shook his head.
“The one in the hat.” Grant nodded toward the table.
Finn looked at the table more closely, zeroing in on a tall man with broad shoulders with dark hair peeking out of a backwards ball cap. He was watching Finn closely, ignoring the jeering of the men around him.
“That’s the one she was dancing with,” Grant interrupted his thoughts. “She took him back to her room.”
Finn felt the words like a fist to his stomach. “She what?” He couldn’t believe that Gretchen would sleep with someone else when the two of them… He stopped. He actually had no idea why she wouldn’t sleep with someone else.
“She said you could go fuck yourself,” Grant further informed him, looking away slightly as he spoke.
“She what?” Finn repeated, becoming angrier with each new piece of information, as if the way she had all but fucked the pole moments before hadn’t been enough to get his blood churning.
“I believe she thinks you and Ronnie…” Grant shrugged.
“I don’t give a damn what she thinks,” Finn growled, though he did care more than he wanted to admit.
He pushed past Grant and made his way down the hall to Gretchen’s room.
He threw open the door and barged in.
“What the hell was that?”
Gretchen turned at the sound of the door bursting open and met his eyes defiantly.
“My job,” she told him, turning back to the mirror and buttoning the shirt she had chosen to wear home.
“The fuck it is.” He reached out, grabbing her arm and stopping her short. “You can dance without fucking the pole, Gre—” He stopped himself.
“And I’m sure you can do your job and keep your dick in your pants,” she countered, “but I highly doubt you do.”
She jerked her arm out of his grasp and walked to the counter, throwing back her whiskey.
“Is this about Ronnie?” he asked, watching as she forced herself to put the glass down easily.
“There is no this,” she yelled. “I have a job to do, Jay, so I did it.”
“Was bringing that guy back to your room tonight part of the job?” He finally lost the small amount of control he had on his anger and he slammed the side of his fist into the wall beside him. “Did you fuck him?” he demanded. “I swear to God, Gretchen, if you fucked him…”
“What if I did?” she pushed. “What if I fucked him right in this room and enjoyed every goddamn minute of it?”
He clenched his fists against the wave of nausea at the thought of her with anyone else. “Did you?” His voice was pure ice in complete contradiction to the fury burning within him.
“I guess you’ll just have to wonder,” she told him and made a move to stroll past him.
He reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her toward him. “Did you?” he repeated, his voice low and his teeth clenched.
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she spat.
“Like hell you don’t.” His grip on her arm tightened and her eyes grew wide. Fear flashed across her face and he was reminded of the way she had looked at him the day his mother was killed. His grip loosened and she made a move to take back her arm but he held firm.
“Answer me, Gretchen, or I’ll find out for myself.” He tried to calm his voice but it didn’t erase the fear from her emerald eyes.
“Find out for yourself?” She shook her head in confusion, before he tossed her on the couch.
“Finn, what?” She scrambled to sit up and get away from him. “Please, Finn.”
He came over her, pressing her back to the couch, his body on top of hers, his mouth on her lips, his hands searching under her shirt. She bucked against him even as she returned his kiss. His hand found her breast and squeezed, causing a moan to escape from her throat. He forced her shirt open, buttons scattering over the couch and floor before the sound of ripping lace rent the air as her bra was torn away, and his mouth descended upon her nipple. She arched her body, forcing more of herself into his mouth as she pulled at his shirt as if desperate to feel his skin under her hands.
He didn’t know what was happening to him, why he couldn’t control himself, why he couldn’t stop himself from taking her. The only thought that was clear to him was that she was his and only his. He knew that if he found her wet from a night with someone else he wouldn’t be able to control himself. Although he believed he would never truly hurt Gretchen, he knew he wouldn’t be able to rein himself in, yet he couldn’t keep himself from wanting to find out the truth. He pushed his hand into her pants, anger slapping at him when he found her naked underneath. He plunged his fingers into her and she tightened around him as her nails dug into his back and her body arched.
He heard his name on her lips, felt her body shudder underneath his, and he dragged her pants down her hips and over her ass.
“Now, Finn.” She tore the button of his slacks open and shoved them down his body. “Please.”
He pushed into her, stilling for a moment as he was surrounded by her warmth.
“Oh God,” she breathed.
He fisted his hand in her short wig as he drove himself inside her and searched her face for the parts of Gretchen that he loved most.
“Did you?” he asked, looking into her glazed eyes filled with pleasure. “Tell me.”
She shook her head, meeting each of his thrusts with her hips.
“Tell me,” he demanded desperately. “Gretchen, please.”
“No,” she panted beneath him. “Just you, Finn. God, there’s just you.”
He felt her tighten around him as she surrendered to her orgasm, even if she refused to surrender to him. He took her mouth again, because he was suddenly afraid of what he might say to her if he continued to watch her come undone as she pulled him over the edge into his own release. Afterward she lay beneath him, content as a cat curled in his arms. He didn’t rest, couldn’t rest. He hated himself, was absolutely disgusted. He didn’t know how she lay against him, touching him after what he had done to her. He didn’t deserve her, he had always known that. He had promised he wouldn’t hurt her and he had broken that promise. He loved her, he knew that he did, there was a physical ache in his chest when he was without her. He didn’t understand then, why he couldn’t be gentle with her, why he found himself treating her like any of the other women he had screwed over the years, when he had never been able to deny, even to himself, that she was different.
He pulled away ignoring the way her body moved with him and the slight moan of disappointment that passed her swollen lips.
“Where you going?” Gretchen asked warily. She knew it was important to remember that despite the pleasure Finn could bring her, he could, and likely would, destroy her as well.
She waited for him to ask her to come home with him, but he only shook his head, moving slightly closer.
“Will you be here tomorrow?” He brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his hand.
She nodded, though her heart sank.
“I’ve got to do some things tonight,” he explained, “or…”
She shrugged, swallowing the hurt, and stood from the couch, sliding on her jeans. She was sure he had things to do.
“Of course.” She smiled. “Maybe tomorrow.”
She turned away from him, pulling a bra out of her bag to replace the one he had torn.
“He was my partner,” she told him quietly.
“What?” He came to stand behind her, and she closed her eyes, hoping to block out the instinct to lean into his warmth.
“The guy tonight, he’s my partner, he was just checking on me and we needed some privacy.” She shrugged. “There was nothing sexual about any of it.”
She could feel him relax, but she only shook her head before turning on him.
“Tell me, Finn, did you feel anything besides pissed off?” She watched his gray eyes for an indication he had felt even a fraction of the pain that she felt when seeing him touch Ronnie, but there was no emotion there, not now, when she so desperately hoped for it.
“Because for me,” she fought the tears fighting to break free, “it kills me to think of you with someone else, to see them touch you…”
She shook her head and stepped away, not expecting that he would answer.
She took her bag and quickly left the room. She didn’t check to see if he was following her, only made her way to the bar. She needed another glass of whiskey. She smiled when she saw that Amber already had it ready. She took the glass and turned slightly, just in time to see Finn and Ronnie leaving the club.
* * * * *
“What’s the story with the dancer?” Ronnie asked Finn as they sat in the back of her town car on their way to her hotel. Despite the power Ronnie appeared to wield in the rest of the world, whenever she was in town, Carlisle insisted that he escort her home each night. Finn was sure that part of the reason was because Carlisle liked to play with people’s lives as much as possible.
He had especially noticed that tonight when Carlisle sent Gretchen to ask him what he wanted to drink. He was sure that he had said things to instigate Ronnie as well.
“Not much of a story,” he lied. “I think she’s been there a couple of months.”
“You two seemed close.” Ronnie slid across the seat, pressing against him. “Did you fuck her tonight?”
Finn turned toward her and met her eyes, managing to stifle the anger that rose at her question.
“I did not,” he lied smoothly.
“So what did you do?” She took his hand and lifted it to her mouth before nibbling at his fingertips.
“I can smell her on your fingers, Jay.”
Finn jerked his hand away.
“Don’t,” he cautioned.
“I don’t mind sharing.” Ronnie pouted, leaning back against the seat. “As long as I get to play too.”
“I’m not yours to share,” he reminded her. “We’ve never been like that, Ronnie, and it’s been months since we’ve been together at all.”
Ronnie gave a smile that said she hoped he didn’t believe what he was saying as she certainly did not.
“I’m going to be around more often now,” she informed him with a shrug. “I thought that might change some things for us.”
“Why are you going to be around? I thought you enjoyed Miami.”
“I do,” she nodded, “but there are certain perks here that I quite enjoy.” She ran a hand over his leg and between his thighs over his still-sensitive dick.
“Raymond has his own hookers.” Finn pulled her hand away, hoping she couldn’t tell how desperately he wanted her to go back to her own life.
“He does,” she mused, “but I have clients who have very distinct and…peculiar appetites, Jay. Raymond’s girls don’t sate that type of hunger.”
“I suppose I can see how being legal and willing would be a turnoff for some of the men you deal with.”
Finn shook his head and thought of the stories he had heard about the services provided by Ronnie’s girls.
Ronnie laughed beside him.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she chided. “It’s not like you haven’t broken the law a time or two, Jay.”
Finn nodded, she was right after all. He had broken the law more times than he could count, but he liked to think that he never caused the innocent to suffer by his actions.
“I draw the line at kidnapping and rape, Ronnie.”
He met her eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure that she was actually guilty of either, but he wasn’t willing to put it past her. As she turned her eyes away from his without comment, he knew he had gotten close enough to the truth.
* * * * *
Gretchen was jolted awake by the sound of her cell phone blaring an old Britney Spears tune. She reached blindly for it, knocking several things from the bedside table as she did.
“Hello,” she managed.
“Hey, are you asleep?” It was Finn, and despite herself, she felt the familiar joy at hearing his voice.
“I was.” She yawned.
“So I guess you wouldn’t want to spend the night at my place?” he offered.
“No, I’m asleep; call Ronnie.”
“It’s not like that,” he started, but she wasn’t listening.
“I don’t care what it’s like.” She sighed sadly. “I’m exhausted, and I’m not interested in coming over.”
“What if I came to you?”
Gretchen tried to listen for something that told her Finn missed her and wanted to hold her and love her and not just use her body, but there was only silence.
“I’m not interested in her leftovers, Finn,” she snapped, “nor am I interested in satisfying whatever needs she left you with. I’m tired. Good night.”
She hung up the phone, wishing she felt as sure of herself as she had sounded.
She heard a sound outside her window and cursed softly, standing and going over. She should have expected Finn wouldn’t take a simple no. Despite herself, she was smiling when she opened the window.
“Finn, I—” she stopped as she spotted a fleeing man’s back.
She reached for the gun in her bedside table and ran from her apartment, but whoever had been there was gone. She made her way to the spot under her window where she could see something shining in the light from the streetlamp. Her bare feet sank into the damp soil beside two perfect boot prints, a dozen or so cigarette butts littered the ground. It looked as if whoever she had heard had been watching her for a while. She bent and picked up the gold lighter lying in the dirt. She turned it over, hoping that she was wrong about what would be on the other side.
“Motherfucker,” she muttered when she was right.
* * * * *
Gretchen entered the club like a tornado, stomping her way into the bar and scanning the room for Grant. She found him on the other side of the still-growing crowd and made her way to him angrily.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” She shoved him roughly, though he didn’t move.
He looked down at her with a shake of his head, a smile hiding at the corners of his mouth.
“I did enjoy myself last night,” he agreed, “but unless my wife has been talking to you, I’m not sure how you would know that. So why don’t you tell me what you’re talking about?”
Gretchen glared back at him, sure he was lying to her. She held up the lighter she had found outside her bedroom window and watched his eyes narrow a bit.
“Where did you find that?” His voice seemed pleased, not what she expected from a man who had just been caught peeping.
“Outside my bedroom window,” she snapped, jerking her hand and the lighter away as he reached for them. “So did you enjoy the view last night? I’m sorry you had nothing to report back to your boss, you bastard.”
She turned to walk away, but he hurried in front of her, stopping her progress but careful not to touch her.
“I haven’t been anywhere near your place, Lilah.” He held his hands up in defense. “Jay hasn’t asked me to do anything but watch out for you here at the club.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she yelled before reining in her temper. “I found your lighter, you don’t go anywhere without it.”
“I know, I know.” He nodded, reaching into the front pocket of his black slacks. “I lost my original a few months back, my wife got me another one.”
He held out an identical lighter, and Gretchen reached out, taking it in her hand, running her thumb over the replicated engraving.
“You can ask her,” he offered. “Tell her what you found. I swear that woman would have my balls if she thought I was watching you, she wouldn’t cover for me.”
Gretchen nodded and handed him back the lighter, trying to fight back the nerves that suddenly had hold of her.
“Okay,” she conceded.
She liked Grant, even if she did get upset with him for intervening every time someone showed interest in her. She was glad to know he wasn’t a voyeur, but now that meant she had no idea who had been watching her the night before.
“You okay?” He bent slightly to look her in the eyes.
“Yeah,” she lied. “You mind if I hold on to the other lighter for a while?”
“As long as you want.” He spoke carefully.
She nodded absently, her mind running through who could have possibly been outside her window, and began to walk away.
“Hey, Lilah,” he called, stepping close enough that no one would hear what he said to her.
“I’m pretty sure I lost that lighter here, so whoever dropped it…”
He didn’t have to finish, she knew what he was trying to say.
“I’ve got your back,” he told her and waited for her to look up and meet his warm brown eyes. “Anyone messes with you, don’t hesitate.”
She felt the tears sting at her eyes and nodded without comment.
She walked away and headed backstage. She had some time before her first dance, but she didn’t feel like mingling right now. Someone had followed her back to her apartment the night before then stood outside her bedroom window. She had known it was a possibility, it was why Carpenter had rented her the apartment in the first place instead of risking someone following her to her own home, but she hadn’t believed anyone thought she was actually important enough to watch closely.
She turned when she heard the click of stilettos on the cement floor behind her. Ronnie Sinclair stood assessing her with a cool eye.
Gretchen considered kissing the other woman’s ass, but she wasn’t much in the mood for it, besides she figured she’d get a truer sense of Ronnie Sinclair if she pissed her off.
“Something I can help you with?” She kept her back to the other woman, opening her locker and placing the few items of lingerie she had brought along with her inside.
She could see Ronnie give a condescending smile in the mirror beside her. Gretchen clenched her fists and waited.
“You’re very good at what you do,” Ronnie mused, walking forward slowly, running her hand along the makeup table beside her.
“What do you want?” Gretchen turned around, slamming her locker behind her.
“Can I not compliment a talented woman when I see one?” Ronnie feigned hurt.
“Last night you didn’t even want to meet me,” Gretchen reminded her. “Sorry if I’m not buying the let’s-be-girlfriends routine.”
“You’re right.” Ronnie stopped and straightened. “Another thing for me to admire about you, Lilah Jennings.”
Gretchen glared at her, knowing that Ronnie would expect her to be upset that she had taken the time to ask around about her.
“Just so you know,” Ronnie smirked, “I did not get your last name from Jay, he didn’t know it.”
Gretchen saw the game for what it was now and she smiled.
“Why would he?” She snickered. “We don’t exactly do much talking when we’re together.”
Another person may have missed the quick flare of jealousy in Ronnie’s cool blue eyes, but Gretchen spotted it.
“I came to let you know that I am considering offering you a position within my company.” Ronnie recovered. “It’s a bit more selective than the clubs. I cater to very wealthy, very cultured men, with very distinct appetites.”
Gretchen knew she was expected to be flattered, but the idea of satisfying Ronnie’s clients’ appetites made her stomach turn.
“And what am I supposed to do with that information?” She sat atop the table behind her and leaned back on her arms as if she couldn’t care less about the proposal.
“Consider it,” Ronnie told her. “And consider what you need to do to be successful with me. My men do not like women who fall in love easily.”
Gretchen laughed genuinely then. “I’m sorry?” she prompted.
“You and Jay, that’s not real, Lilah. You need to learn to recognize those things, or you won’t make it in this industry.”
Gretchen laughed again, though she wasn’t sure why. “I assure you I have no delusions about what we are to each other,” she told Ronnie. “And I am not a woman who falls in love easily.”
“Hmmm.” Ronnie considered her for a moment before nodding. “Perhaps. Just know that I’m watching, waiting to see if you’re worthy.”
Gretchen nodded, sure she would make herself worthy. Forget Raymond Carlisle, she was determined to bring this bitch to her knees.
Ronnie watched her for another moment before walking back out in to the club.
Gretchen sat up, her body suddenly tense. She knew what Ronnie wanted and why she would even consider offering her a job. It had nothing to do with what she thought Gretchen could do and everything to do with Finn. She wanted Gretchen to know that she was nothing to him. Well, she didn’t need a damn news bulletin to figure that out.
“Hey, Lilah,” the DJ called from the other side of the door. “You’re on in five.”
“Got it, thanks,” she called back and began preparing for her dance.
* * * * *
Finn tried to pretend that Gretchen wasn’t purposely avoiding him like a fucking plague, but when two hours had passed, and she still hadn’t so much as glanced his way, he knew there was no pretending. He stood from the table, determined to talk with her, when Grant appeared at his side.
“Be easy on her,” he whispered and Finn turned to him.
“Excuse me?”
He and Grant had become friendlier over the years, but he was still essentially the other man’s boss and he didn’t take kindly to being given orders by anyone.
“She’s having a rough night,” he explained. “She came in and laid into me. I think someone followed her home last night.”
He had Finn’s full attention now. “What do you mean you think someone followed her home?”
Grant filled Finn in on what he had been able to gather from Gretchen. Fury seeped into his veins, a feeling he was unfortunately beginning to grow accustomed to. “She thought I sent you to make sure she went home alone and you stayed for a show,” he muttered rubbing his hand over his face before scanning the club.
“Listen.” Grant stepped closer, and his voice dropped. “I don’t know what she is to you, but you can’t keep her safe. Your interest in her only makes it more dangerous for her.” He met Finn’s eyes. “Especially since Ronnie’s back.”
He didn’t have to say that no one could trust Ronnie and that she would do anything to get what she wanted, everyone knew that was true. Just as Finn knew what Grant was saying was true too. He couldn’t protect Gretchen, and he very well may have pointed a target right at her.
“Ronnie followed her backstage earlier,” Grant informed him.
Finn’s head snapped back to him. “What? Why?”
Grant only shrugged and shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine. She’s not talking to me tonight either.”
Finn stood for a moment, searching the crowd for Gretchen.
“They’re going to watch how you play this, Jay,” Grant whispered, scanning the room as well.
Finn clenched his jaw. “You take her home tonight,” he instructed Grant. “Check to see if you’re followed. Then check her apartment, make sure it’s clean and safe.”
“I can do that.” He nodded. “You want me to stay?”
If it were anyone else, Finn may have been suspicious of the offer, but he trusted Grant. He knew the man had a wife and little girl at home he was crazy about and he knew he wanted to get home to them tonight.
“No. Just get her settled and then head home to your family.”
“Will do.” Grant clasped a large hand on his shoulder before walking away.
Finn spotted Gretchen on the other side of the club, sitting on a barstool, nursing a drink and watching the dance floor. He sighed deeply and made his way to the bar, finding a spot beside her.
“You haven’t had much to say tonight,” he told her in lieu of greeting.
“I prefer waiting until I have something worth saying.” She didn’t turn toward him. “So far, I’ve got nothing.”
“You don’t think telling me that someone was hanging out outside your bedroom window was worth saying?” He took his drink from the bartender and turned, leaning against the bar beside her and following her gaze to the dance floor.
“Nope,” she replied curtly.
“Don’t get pissed at me and get yourself hurt,” he chastised, and she smirked, taking a large drink of her whiskey.
“I can handle myself,” she assured him. “You can release your bodyguards. It becomes a bit boring to sit in a club and have nothing to do.”
“I’ve told them that no one—”
“Yeah, I know,” she interrupted. “No one can touch me. Message received by everyone.” She smiled wickedly, dipping a finger into her drink before slowly sucking the liquid away. “You sure Grant can’t be persuaded though?”
Finn remembered the way those lips felt stretched around him, and stifled the need to have them sucking at him. He knew she was trying to get a rise out of him, so he only shrugged. “I told him I would kill him if he did.” His voice was calm, easy.
“I’m sure he’s not worried about your empty threats.” She rolled her eyes.
Finn laughed. “He’s seen what I can do, baby.” He bent, whispering in her ear. “There’s a reason no one has touched you, and it’s not because they don’t want to. They know who I am, perhaps you should do better research.”
“Is that a threat?”
He shook his head and met her fake blue eyes.
“I would never hurt you, never lay a hand on you. That is one thing I can promise you.”
“It’s about the only thing isn’t it, Jay?” She didn’t look away as she gave him time to think over her question.
“I think your girlfriend tried to warn me away from you tonight,” she continued. “She offered me a job—”
“Don’t even think about it,” he cut her off.
“She just wanted to make sure that I understood that I wouldn’t do very well in her line of work if I fell in love easily.” Her gaze bore into his, no doubt waiting for his reaction.
“I assured her that wouldn’t be a problem,” she finished.
Finn nodded. He would never expect that falling in love was something Gretchen could do lightly, but still he had thought maybe she had fallen in love with him.
“She doesn’t know we’re sleeping together,” he told her. Sex was a much safer discussion than love.
“Slept together,” Gretchen corrected, “and yes, she does.”
Finn’s jaw tightened at her use of the past tense.
“A woman always knows when someone else is enjoying what’s hers.”
He wondered then how she didn’t know he wasn’t sleeping with Ronnie anymore. “If you say so,” he conceded, motioning to the bartender that he needed something stronger.
Gretchen chuckled beside him, placing her empty glass on the bar. “I’m up,” she told him and once again walked away without touching him.
Finn watched her go, knowing he had to get her out of here soon.
* * * * *
“I don’t need you to follow me home,” Gretchen was telling Grant as he walked her out of the club and to her car. “I’m fine, really. Go home to your wife.”
Grant smiled indulgently before shaking his head. “I’m following you home and checking your place, and then I’ll go home to my wife. Boss’s orders.” He raised his hand in mock salute.
Gretchen sighed and made her way to the small heap of junk that she drove when she was Lilah. She kept her eyes trained on the rearview mirror as she drove home, though she was sure if someone had been there the night before, they wouldn’t bother following her tonight. She tried not to admit to herself that a small part of her was glad Grant would be with her when she entered the tiny apartment.
She pulled into a spot at the curb and climbed out of her car, waiting for Grant before walking to her door. She stood, patiently as he walked to the window, inspecting the ground beneath it, unaware that she had already had a crime scene detective comb the area.
“Find anything?” she called, but he only shook his head as he came back to her and entered the apartment behind her.
She stood just inside the doorway and let him search, smiling politely when he came back satisfied that there was nothing out of the ordinary.
“I can stay the night, if you want,” he offered.
“Did Jay tell you to stay?” The familiar anger at his management of her life rose within her.
Grant shook his head. “But I will,” he told her. “Or you’re welcome at my house.”
Gretchen swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and pushed back the guilt she was beginning to feel often as she got to know Carlisle and his people better.
“I’m fine, really,” she assured him.
Grant nodded and made his way to the door.
“Thank you,” she told him.
He smiled, stepping out into the night.
“Grant,” she called before he could get too far away. “What is it that Jay does for Carlisle? He said you’ve seen him work.”
Grant nodded slowly, looking out at the street and slipping his hands into his pockets.
“He’s a problem solver,” he finally answered.
Gretchen shook her head confused.
“If Carlisle has a problem,” Grant elaborated, “Jay makes it go away.”
He met her eyes and she nodded with understanding.
“He’s a good man to have in your corner,” he told her.
“Because he can make your problems go away?” She smirked, but he shook his head.
“No,” he told her, “because he’s a good man.”
She nodded, because she knew as much and had been trying to tell Finn so for years. She wondered if anyone else ever tried to hell him, and whether he believed them if they did. She met Grant’s gaze, unsure of the understanding passing between them. Maybe Finn wasn’t the only good man in a bad world.
* * * * *
Gretchen stepped out of the bathroom and began making her way to her bedroom. She was more exhausted tonight than she could remember being in some time. She knew it was a mixture of her hours and the stress of being undercover, trying to remember every lie she had told, but this assignment was different, she was different. She had never been in love, not in her real life and certainly not on the job, she wasn’t used to the way she felt about Finn or the effects it was starting to have on every aspect of her life. She was worried too, about whoever had been outside her window the night before, she was certain it wasn’t by mistake and that they weren’t finished.
She stepped into her bedroom and when she was shoved from behind so that she toppled face-first onto her bed, she knew she had been right to worry.
She didn’t make a sound as she fell forward, her hands bracing her body as she landed on the bed. She made a move to push herself over, when a hand fisted in her wet hair, wrenching her head back and bringing her body off the mattress.
“You sure this is Lilah?” someone said behind her, and Gretchen clenched her jaw, determined not to speak.
“I don’t know,” the voice at her ear spoke, breathing hot, wet air on her neck.
She tried to think of a way out, but the pain in her scalp was intense and now her hands were being jerked behind her. Something was being tied around her wrists and she struggled against the confines and began to scream.
She felt the strike of an open palm against her face and her head jerked sideways. She managed to lift it again and turned toward her attacker, meeting his beady black eyes with disgust as she spit the blood from her mouth on his shoe.
“Fucking bitch,” he sniggered and slapped her again with the back of his hand.
“Hey,” the man at her back growled. “Don’t fuck her up before I can use her. I’m sure her mouth works wonders.”
They both laughed and Gretchen swore to herself that they would have to kill her first. She was shoved back to the mattress. She clenched her jaw as the first man came over her, bending to sniff at her neck. She pushed against him, terror suddenly clawing at her chest. She forgot all the training she had received at the academy and all the maneuvers she had practiced with Neil as her fear took over. She managed to roll to her side and struck him with her knee, before he slapped her hard across the face, and flipped her back to her stomach. Her T-shirt rode up, his calloused hands scratched over the silk of her panties, before he grabbed her hips and pulled her against him roughly.
“I bet you like it when Jay puts you on your knees,” the man to her right spoke gruffly in her ear, his hands roaming her body. She shivered with disgust, hearing a zipper as it was released. She kicked out, desperate to do anything to keep from having one of them inside her. Her heel connected with bone, then there was the unmistakable feel of a blade at her throat.
“Don’t fucking move,” the voice rasped in her ear.
The one behind her dragged her off the bed, so that she hit the floor hard on her bare knees. He yanked her up and left her kneeling on the floor as he stepped around her.
“We have a little message for you,” he told her and bent to sniff at her neck. Gretchen tried to lean back, but the smaller one, the one who had struck her twice, was behind her, pressing the cold steel of his knife to her throat.
She watched the tall man in front of her as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a photograph. Gretchen could already see that it was a picture of Finn, and she tried to turn her head, but the man behind her held her chin tightly and pressed the blade enough that she felt a small stab at her neck.
“Open your eyes and take a look,” she was ordered as the picture was shoved in her face. She opened her eyes and stared at the photograph of Finn and Ronnie. Ronnie was bent over the side of a couch with Finn buried inside her. Gretchen closed her eyes against the image as the tears formed. She was hit across the face again, and as her head swung sideways, the blade scraped at her neck. She bit back her screams and opened her eyes, staring down her attacker.
“You fucking coward,” she bit out coldly, though every word hurt to utter. “Go ahead and do whatever you’re going to do and leave me the hell alone.”
He smiled wickedly at her and pulled his phone from his pocket.
“I told your little dancer I was interested in offering her a position in my new business,” Ronnie’s voice was saying.
“She’s not mine,” Finn’s voice replied, “and why would you want her anyway?”
Ronnie laughed.
“I figure if her pussy’s sweet enough to have you tied in knots, she could make me a lot of money.”
“You figured wrong.” His voice was mocking. “There’s nothing special about her, Ronnie. She’s just a little tart, you know, a nice little treat every now and then. She’s not worth what your men pay.”
“You mean you’re not in love with her, Jay baby?” Ronnie pouted.
Finn laughed now.
“Hell no. Even if I was going to do something as stupid as fall in love, it wouldn’t be with her. She’s nothing.”
Gretchen felt the walls of her heart topple, and she couldn’t hold back the flood of tears that came with their destruction. She held her mouth closed, trying to control the silent sobs that shook her body.
“Aww. You love him, don’t you?” The voice at her ear sounded sarcastic, but Gretchen refused to answer.
“Just do what you have to do.” She submitted.
“That’s all for now,” the one in front of her told her, before she was shoved to the ground again and left lying on her side, staring at the picture of Finn fucking Ronnie.
* * * * *
When Gretchen finally managed to free her wrists from the makeshift cuffs the two men had used on her, she made her way to the shower and stood in the hot spray, trying to scrub away the feel of their hands on her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw their faces and felt their hands roaming over her. Then she would see Finn standing behind Ronnie, buried inside her, and she would hear him say she was nothing. She stopped the sob that threatened to escape. She shouldn’t have been surprised by his answer, but still it hurt. She didn’t know why she had assumed things were different between them, maybe because she had fallen so completely in love with him, but it was obvious now that she was no more to him than she had been years before, perhaps even less than she had imagined. She pressed her hands against the shower wall, bracing herself against the pain in her body and her heart and steeling herself for what was next. Ronnie had just signed her fucking death warrant, and Gretchen didn’t much care who got in her way.