Night Games (22 page)

I flip back around. “So you made a recording of her?”

“Of course I did. Son, I’m getting old. My memory ain’t what it used to be.”

“So how do I know you won’t threaten to release it in the future should you run a little short on funds? I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

“I’m afraid so. I might run an unsavory type of empire, but my business practices are aboveboard. I’d never cheat a client, especially one as powerful as you. I’m shrewd, but I’m not a fool. I collect what’s owed to me, nothing more.”

“Well shouldn’t it be Keith’s responsibility to make amends for cutting off your pipeline of reality porn? He’s the one who got greedy, blackmailing the Kings.”

“Your logic is sound, young Jedi,” he laughs heartily. “But you can’t blame me for going for broke. It’s not too often that I have someone like you grace my establishment. I had to see if you’d let me bleed you dry, but you’re smarter than I gave you credit for. I thought seeing Grey in tears would make you lose your head, and you’d give me anything I asked for. But you figured out my game, and I have to respect you for that. The two of you are free to go.”

He removes his hold on Grey, and when she comes rushing at me, I can’t resist wrapping my arms around her. She’s been through quite an ordeal, and while I don’t like what she’s done, I care about her too much to refuse her any comfort now, especially when she’s been subjected to the inclinations of this monster.

I turn her toward the door, shielding her from view as I glare at Stanley over my shoulder, daring him to say another word. Grey grips me tightly as we walk by a snickering Brent, who is lounging in the hallway, ready for round two. I stroke her hair to calm her down. The ruckus out front has reached a fever pitch as multiple girls strut their stuff on stage to the same Def Leppard track that Grey used to perform to. She clings to me as I lead her away from these painful memories once and for all.

The bouncer holds the door open for us, shaking his head over his boss’s appetite for perversity. “I’m sorry, man. Grey’s a sweet girl. I wish she never got mixed up with the likes of him.”

“You and me both.”

“Take good care of her, Whit. She’s one of the good ones.”

Grey’s too distraught to acknowledge him, so I simply tip my head as I guide her back outside into the muggy evening air.

Noah and Erin are huddled under a streetlight, but when they see us come out, they waste no time rushing over.

“What the heck happened? Are you okay?” Erin dislodges Grey’s iron grip on my body and pulls her close.

“Man, what happened to your neck?” Noah winces, stepping up next to me to get a better look. “It looks like someone ran you over with a tire.”

“I’ll live,” I mutter, more worried about how quiet Grey is than some stupid bruise that’ll eventually fade.

“Did he hit you up for some major cash?” Noah asks, assuming the worst.

“Nah. He was after something a lot more valuable. And he got it.”

“He didn’t make you promise to turn over your firstborn or some crazy shit like that, did he?”

I watch Erin take Grey over to her car, and ease her into the front seat.

“No, but who knew some crime boss in Stockton could be such an expert in psychological torture?”

“Fuck. Is she gonna be okay?” Noah’s eyes search mine for some kind of confirmation.

I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “I don’t know, man. I hope so.”

“What about you?” He looks at me with concern.

“I’ll survive,” I mutter, scratching the back of my head.

“That doesn’t sound too encouraging.”

“I think I’m just in shock.” I feel some of the tension drain out of my body, but I’m still on edge.

“Jesus, what did he do to you guys?”

“I’d rather not say. Noah, just forget it ever happened, for my sake and for hers.” I rest my hand on his shoulder, imploring him to let it go.

“Are you gonna ride with Erin back to Grey’s trailer or do you want me to drive you over?”

I’d really like some time away from Grey right now, but that’s not possible. I have nowhere else to go, and I don’t want to tip anyone off that I’m back in Stockton. I don’t want to recreate the media frenzy we left behind in New York. We both need some quiet time to come down from all of this.

“Noah, I know you were in a tight spot, but going behind my back like that and bringing her here without telling me? Not cool, bro.”

“Chase, you don’t know Stanley like I do.” Noah grabs my arm, determined to explain his side of things. “He’s relentless. No one just walks away from him. I didn’t want to turn Grey over to him like that, but Stanley threatened my dad’s business. He said he has a friend who works in the DMV and he would’ve rung us up on all these bogus violations. Shut us down for good. I knew he wouldn’t hurt Grey. I just assumed he was after a big payday.”

“And you were okay with that?” I stare him down, not wanting to hear his excuses.

“Of course not. I never thought he’d get away with it. Who does he think he is, taking on the New York Kings? He’s insane.” Noah shakes his head, unnerved by how far his old boss was willing to go.

“But why didn’t you come to me first? I could’ve helped you out and prevented all of this.” He was a fool to think he could handle something of this magnitude on his own.

“Chase, Stanley doesn’t forget a slight. If you and Grey took off for New York, the Martin family name would still be on his blacklist. You wouldn’t be able to protect me forever. He’s a patient man. He bides his time until he’s able to strike. I had a chance to wipe the slate clean. So I had to take it.”

“When did Stockton become the fuckin’ Wild West?”

“Small-town life ain’t so quaint after all. Your big-city drug lords and mob bosses have nothing on us.”

“I guess not.”

“Listen, man. I’m gonna bail. I gotta get up early and bring back the Prius that’s parked in your garage, but I’m serious about getting together once this all dies down. I consider you a friend, Chase Whitfield, and I promise to make it up to you.”

“Noah, just don’t take my girl to any more strip clubs, you hear me?” His heart was in the right place, even if things got all bungled up.

“Not on my life.”

“And if you run into any problems, just tell Luis to call me.”

“Will do. Take care of Grey, dude. She’s gonna need you. Now more than ever.” He glances over at her, drawing my attention back to where it needs to be.

I wave to Noah as he gets behind the wheel, afraid to go over to Erin and Grey. They’re whispering frantically between themselves, like they don’t want me to hear what they’re saying. And frankly, I don’t think I could handle listening to a play-by-play of Grey’s interrogation by Stanley. That’s one conversation I’d rather not be a part of.

“Are you ready, Chase?” Erin calls out, shooting me a sympathetic smile.

Yeah, she knows. And I feel even more emasculated by her pity. I couldn’t protect Grey from having to reveal something so personal to a pervert like that. It makes me feel like less of a man. Like I failed her somehow, and she failed me. Stripped me of my manhood, laid my secrets bare.

I cram my body into the back seat of Erin’s car, shoving a child’s car seat aside, my knee groaning in protest.

But the pain is all I have to concentrate on because none of us say a word the whole way back to Grey’s trailer. That’s when I know things must be royally screwed up, because for Erin to go that long without talking has to be some kind of record.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Grey

I knew I was going to have to tell Stanley about my first time. But having to betray Chase like that? It makes me hate Stanley even more. Chase didn’t have to find out about our deal. I could’ve lied, covered it up. But standing there, watching it break his heart, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that.

Regret. Shame. Guilt. It all melds together in one crippling blow of self-loathing. I refuse to open my eyes. I know he can’t stand to look at me right now, even though we’re scrunched together in my tiny bed.

We just collapsed against each other last night, not even bothering to take off our clothes. I could never ask him to sleep on the floor, not after he was so banged up and sore. And I knew he’d never let me sleep in the chair when I was in such a state. So we called a temporary truce and snuggled up together, pretending like nothing happened.

But now, in the harsh light of day, that tender alliance is about to crumble. He has every right to feel betrayed. I mean, he’s held himself aloof for so long, not wanting to get attached to anyone. And what do I do? I throw his trust right back in his face, making a mockery of him.

That night we spent together in New York, what transpired between us, was pure magic better than I ever believed possible. I felt so connected to him, like we forging a bond on a level I never knew existed. We were united as much as two people possibly could be. Until I shattered the spell, bringing us both tumbling back to earth.

What if Chase can’t forgive me? Guys have their pride when it comes to these things, and he’s always said that he is headstrong, unwilling to budge. Now, every time he looks at me, is it going to remind him of what I did? Maybe we’ll never be able to achieve that level of intimacy again. I probably ruined everything.

But he’s touching me now. His thumb is moving across my hipbone. I don’t know if he’s awake or asleep. It could just be a reflex. But he did hold me in his arms when we were leaving The Blue Room. He didn’t push me away when I threw myself at him. Maybe it was just to irritate Stanley and not for my benefit.

Chase was so careful about protecting me from the harm his attraction was bound to cause. He didn’t want to turn it into some kind of spectacle. So this must be killing him inside, knowing what I did. How I disregarded all of his concerns and did exactly what he was trying to avoid. Cheapening our union. Turning it into something tawdry. Talking about it to someone like Stanley like it meant nothing.

When it meant the world to me—and it always will.

I can’t put the burden of making this right on him. I need to be the one to speak first. I’m in the wrong here. I’m the one who screwed up, not him. I never thought Chase would be the one when I made that deal with Stanley. Not in a million years did I believe it would come down to him, or I never would have agreed to it.

But I couldn’t let Stanley damage Chase’s reputation. He could’ve leaked Keith’s video of me. The Kings had no clue that he was the ringleader behind the operation. Stanley was willing to let Keith take the fall while he stayed hidden behind the scenes. But as long as Stanley felt like I owed him something, he was a threat. He could release that video of me performing very easily without getting caught. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to do something, even if it cost me my relationship with Chase. At least I got to spend one incredible night with him.

“Are you up?” I whisper, holding my breath.

“Uh huh,” he groans, stretching out next to me.

I take courage in the fact that he still wants to be physically close to me as he drapes his denim-covered leg over the two of mine. My heart starts to pound. That’s his bad knee. Maybe it’s just hurting him and that’s why he’s squirming around. I doubt it’s because he still wants to be with me. Not after last night.

“We need to talk.” I shiver as he yawns against my ear, ruffling the hair at the base of my neck.

“So talk.” He doesn’t issue the command like a threat or an ultimatum, more like a request.

It’s freaking me out not being able to look at him, but he clearly doesn’t want me to turn around since his leg is holding me firmly in place.

“I’m sorry it had to happen like that. That’s not how I intended things to go down. I had a plan for dealing with Stanley, and I was optimistic when he told me that business was booming after the rumor circulated that you had visited The Blue Room. People always want to hang out where celebrities are spotted. Act like they’re cooler than they really are. Pretend like they’re living it up when they’re just in the same rundown dive.”

Chase doesn’t interrupt. He lets me keep talking.

“I thought he wanted proof that you had been there. Lure you in so he could take a still photo from his security camera or something, put it on his wall. Follow Keith’s playbook. But he wasn’t about to let me out of the bargain we struck.”

I shove my clasped hands farther beneath the pillow, wishing I could hide from what I have to say next.

“No amount of money was going to dissuade him. He didn’t care if he had the opportunity to bleed you for millions. He knew if he went after the dollar signs, he wouldn’t get me to open up. It’s like he wanted to keep it private or else it wouldn’t mean as much to him. He’s a collector, and the more valuable and rare something is, the more he wants it. Not many girls lose their virginity to a celebrity. I was destined to be the crown jewel of his perverted collection.”

I stare blankly at the wall. The birds are chirping outside. The baseball clock is ticking above the door. The refrigerator is humming in the kitchen. But Chase remains silently curled up next to me.

“Rest assured, Stanley will never share that recording with anyone. He has a self-destruct option on his files should anything ever happen to him. He’s the only one with the password, and if he doesn’t log on to the server within a certain time frame, everything gets erased. He explained it all to me when we made the deal. He even gave me a signed contract with the details in writing. He’d rather die than let anyone see them. He’s possessive, not to mention thorough.”

Testing Chase, I try to slide my leg out from under his, but he shifts more of his weight onto me, holding me down. I take that as a sign that I should keep going. He wants to hear more.

“Stanley said that he’s obsessed with virginity stories because he grew up in a brothel. His mother was a prostitute. He never knew his dad. He was thirteen when he had sex for the first time. For him, it was never about love. It was a transaction—something to be bought and sold. But somewhere deep inside his soul, he longs for innocence and romance. He’s enthralled by it, worships it even. When I came to work for him, he saw right through me. He knew what I was. I didn’t have to tell him. He knew he held my golden ticket in his hands. I wasn’t going to be a stripper forever. I wasn’t the type to make a career out of it. He had me pegged from day one. He knew I’d want to leave, and when I did, he intended to cash in his trump card.”

I reach back and rest my hand on top of Chase’s.

“It’s over now. After I told him what he wanted to hear, I didn’t want to get you involved, but when I started to resist, he dragged you into it. He kept me there, knowing that Noah would call you to come rescue me. And you did. You saved me last night, Chase. Stanley wouldn’t have let you or the Kings buy him off. There were no other options. I just hope that with time you might be able to forgive me.”

I slip my fingers through his, and he lets me, squeezing them in return.

“I want to go see your mom today.”

With one frantic motion, I’m able to buck him off.

“You want to do what?” I gaze at him wildly, scooting against the wall at the far corner of the bed.

“I want you to introduce me to your mother. And your father if he’s around.” His eyelids are half closed as he looks at me drowsily, not the least bit excited that I just knocked him flat on his back. “Because I think they might have the wrong impression of me, and I want to fix that.”

“You’re worried about what they think of you while the whole world is out there calling me a gold-digging whore? I think you need to look at things in the right perspective. They’re going to want to kill me, not you. They love you. They always have. You’re, like, my mom’s favorite player, and my dad respects you. And he doesn’t respect any guys your age. I’m serious. If they could handpick someone for me, it’d be you—and not because you’re rich and famous. For how weird it sounds, they genuinely like you. You don’t have to win them over. They’re already on your side.”

“I still want to do things the right way. I want to meet them. Take the honorable route. I don’t think I’ve met any girl’s parents since I picked up my date for the prom. I want to do things right.”

“Too bad we already slept together.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.”

Chase sits up, positioning himself alongside me. I try not to blush as I slide into him. His arm immediately goes around my shoulders, drawing me close.

“Chase, why are you being so good about this? I didn’t think you’d ever want to speak to me again after last night.”

“I didn’t.”

“So what changed your mind?”

“I’m sick of trying to control whatever this is between us. You’re like a force of nature, Grey, throwing me in different directions, keeping me off balance. But at the same time, you make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Being with you has completely upended my life, but in the best way possible.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” I snuggle up against him, glad that he’s being honest with me.

“I don’t either. Do I like the things you told Stanley? No. Do I like the fact that he recorded them? Hell no. So I guess what I need to know is—did you tell him the truth?”

I answer after a moment’s hesitation, afraid of his response. “Yes.”

“Then if it ever comes out, I have nothing to fear and neither do you. If you expressed even the smallest iota of what I experienced with you that night in my penthouse, then there’s nothing I take back or regret. Do I wish that remained private between the two of us? Absolutely. But I know the world we’re entering into. There’s not going to be much we’ll be able to keep to ourselves. And if I weren’t so high profile, you wouldn’t have to worry about your mom finding out about your time at The Blue Room.”

“So we’re even?”

“Pretty much. I’d be a dick if I blamed you for what happened with Stanley but didn’t take responsibility for making things right with your mom.”

“And you’re really going to do that for me after all that went down?”

“Grey, we’re in this together. I don’t know how much clearer I can make it. That stuff with Stanley is over, forgotten. He has no claim on you anymore. You belong to me now.”

His body collapses onto mine as his lips find my shoulder. Struggling to find a position that doesn’t cause him pain, he quickly grabs my pillow and shoves it under his knee. But he’s determined to do this as his teeth grab my shirt, guiding it down. I moan as his tongue finds my collarbone.

All I’ve wanted since we left New York was to continue what we started, and after last night’s fiasco, I was afraid I’d put it all in jeopardy. That I would never again get to nibble on his bottom lip or feel his ribs expand and contract beneath my fingers. It’s almost too good to be true that things are actually going to work out, that we’re back on track and moving in the right direction.

I never thought I’d wake up this morning to find him wanting to make love to me in my own bed. I wasn’t even sure he’d still be here when I got up. I gasp when his nose touches that delicate place behind my right ear. He remembered. It’s thrilling that he already knows those special places on my body that turn me on.

I shift and he moves with me, the bed creaking and groaning beneath us. I’ve never tried anything like this on it before as it rocks shakily back and forth. It’s mortifying, but Chase doesn’t seem to be aware of it. If he is, he’s dutifully ignoring it, concentrating on the task at hand.

We help each other remove whatever articles of clothing we have left on our bodies. I think I hear the seam of my shirt rip, but at this point I couldn’t care less. He’s doing things to me that are making me lose consciousness. I raise my arms above my head to grab on to something, anything. His head dips below my waist and I can’t reach him. Crying out, I writhe against the sheets unable to keep still.

And then I’m gone, blasted into the stratosphere, his name torn from my lips.

He’s back on top of me in an instant, his grunts filling the room. The bed feels like it’s on some kind of vibrator mode as it rocks underneath us. Finally, he lets out a strangled cry, dropping onto my chest as the bed frame issues a gigantic crack before caving in.

“Did we just break the bed?” I ask, my eyes flying open.

“I think so.” He pants, still trying to catch his breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one, a better one. Because that was fucking worth it.”

“You better believe it. Best make-up sex ever.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

I smile. At this point, I don’t care if we end up on the floor, against the wall, or wherever he wants to take me.

I’m game.