Playing Dirty

My throat closed up and I couldn’t say anything else. My eyes begged him to understand. Parker meant so much to me, but it was too late. I wasn’t going to dump Ryker—another man I deeply cared about—simply because Parker was putting moves on me. I didn’t trust it and I didn’t trust him.

Parker’s hands cupped my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. “I swear, I’m not toying with you. You wanted more between us not long ago. Tell me you don’t still feel that way.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m with Ryker, and I don’t trust you,” I managed, barely above a whisper. Between the fight with Ryker and now … whatever this was with Parker … my emotions were raw. I felt buffeted between the two of them, like a leaf in the wind.

Parker flinched at my words, a barely perceptible reaction that someone who didn’t know him as well as I did may have missed. His hands fell to his sides.

Grabbing my purse, I opened the door before I could rethink it.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said, then I was hurrying down the hallway and out of the building as fast as I could go, not knowing if I was running away from Parker, running toward Ryker, or both.





CHAPTER NINE


I was utterly confused and miserable as I hopped out of the cab and headed for the front of my building. I didn’t know what I was going to do about Parker, nor did I understand what had changed. Was it just the brush with disaster yesterday that had suddenly brought on this change of heart in him?

But it didn’t matter, whatever it was. I wasn’t going to let it derail my relationship with Ryker.

Which seemed to be well on its way to doing that all on its own.

“Miss Reese?”

I started at the sound of my name, right behind me, and whirled around. It was the man who’d been watching Ryker and me earlier. I stumbled backward a few steps.

“Who are you?” I asked.

But the guy just smiled in a way that sent a chill down my spine. “I work for Mr. Shea,” he said, “and Mr. Shea is very interested in having a conversation with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I automatically lied.

He chuckled. “Nice try,” he said, moving closer to me. I swallowed and held my ground. “Tell McCrady Mr. Shea wants to see him tomorrow, or he won’t like the consequences.”

“What consequences?”

Quick as a flash, the guy had a handful of my hair and a switchblade in his other hand, the flat of the cold blade pressing against my cheek.

I gasped in pain and fear, my pulse pounding. I didn’t move and tears sprang to my eyes from the cruel grip he had on my hair.

“Consequences involving a dead girlfriend,” he hissed. “Have I made myself clear?”

I didn’t say anything—it was kind of a rhetorical question—and he waited another beat before letting me go. A car pulled up behind him, a dark sedan, and he slid into the front passenger seat, then it drove away.

I was shaking from fear, adrenaline, and anger. I was scared by what had happened, and pissed off, too. How dare Leo send someone to scare me, threaten me? The asshole.

I was still shaken up and fuming when I unlocked my apartment. I flipped on the light and nearly screamed. Ryker was sitting on my couch in the dark.

“What the hell?” I gasped, now even angrier that he’d scared me. “What’re you doing here?”

“I came here as soon as I could get away from work,” he said. “Imagine how worried I was when you weren’t here.” He stood and approached me until we were toe to toe. “Where have you been?”

Ah, shit.

“I went back to work,” I said. “I had some stuff I could get done there.” I moved past him and set my purse down, pulling out the files to show him. “See?” I tried to rationalize why I felt I had to prove my whereabouts to my boyfriend.

“Was Parker there?”

“Why does it matter?” I countered. “He’s there every day.”

“It’s almost ten o’clock,” he said. “You were at work all this time?”

“Why the interrogation?” I asked. “What did you think I was doing, Ryker?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice what you haven’t said to me?”

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you mean.” I turned toward the cabinet, in dire need of a drink. Preferably of something alcoholic, but his hand closed around my elbow, pulling me back around to face him.

“I think I have a right to know how you’re feeling about us,” he said, “and if you were with Parker tonight.”

“And if I was? What then? He’s my boss. Being with him is kind of what I do all day. And this”—I jerked out of his grip—“is getting old.”

Ryker growled a curse and shoved his hand through his hair. I ignored him, getting a bottle of bourbon I had and pouring myself a healthy shot.

“Besides,” I said, after I’d had two swallows. The liquor burned a path down my throat to my belly. “Parker isn’t who you should be worried about. Leo Shea sent some lackey to wait for me outside the building. He’s the guy who was watching us earlier. He gave me a message for you.”

Ryker’s eyes sharpened and his body grew more tense, as though readying for a fight. “What happened?”

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