Page 14 of Devil's Plaything

“Yeah?” he answers, still rubbing my foot with one hand. “I’m busy. Get one of the prospects to handle it.” Whoever he’s talking to must not like that response because he replies, “Fine. Give me fifteen minutes.”

“I gotta go,” he says once he hangs up.

I lay there, watching as he stands up and shoves his phone into his pocket. He tugs on his boots, and without an explanation, kisses my forehead before walking out.

19

Zeke

Fucking security. That’s what Snake has me doing. He called me away from Cleo to run fucking security at The Fuzzy Peach. It’s bullshit. We have prospects for this kind of job, but he said the Russians are here and he needs someone he can trust.

Since everything is good out front, I make my way back stage and down the hall. I consider calling Snake right now and filling him in on the conversation between Hawk and me. He should know that Hawk wants my Vegas contacts. He’s planning something. The fucker wants to be president and seems like he’s willing to do anything to get that title. Thing is, I don’t know if Snake will believe me over his own flesh and blood, and I don’t want the club to have more of a reason to vote me out.

I’m almost to the office when I hear Hawk’s voice. I didn’t even realize he would be here tonight. The door is slightly ajar, so I peek inside. I’ll be damned. He’s talking to Cleo’s ex. The black eye I gave him has turned a deep shade of purple with a yellow tint.

It didn’t take much digging to find out who this guy is. Shawn Ferguson. Turns out, he has ties to the Russians. They keep our underground gambling in business. They’re also an enemy the club doesn’t want.

According to Hammer, Shawn has tried joining the club. Snake turned down his pledge as a prospect a while back. I had no idea Hawk kept in touch with him. I listen to their conversation, frowning at the two of them reminiscing about high school like they’re old buddies.

“Are you sure you tied her up tight enough and taped her mouth?” Hawk asks. “I don’t need her making noise and drawing attention to the warehouse or getting away.”

Shawn replies, “Yeah, man. She’s secure and I told her if she makes any noise, I’ll tell her father about her little drug habit and the guy she’s been fucking that’s part of his security team.”

Who the fuck are they talking about? I don’t like this. I fish my phone out of my pocket, shooting Hammer a text. I need some backup.

“That’s good because we need this to work so I can be rid of Widow’s ass once and for all. He’s changed and he’s getting on my fucking nerves with his shit! I swear he acts like a fucking pussy, kissing my father’s ass like a little bitch. All he had to do was give me his connection’s info and I would do the rest.”

I keep listening and realize they’re talking about the Russian princess, Sergei’s daughter. They’ve fucking taken her and plan on trafficking her. And from the way it sounds, they want me to take the fall.

20

Cleo

Just when I thought Shawn had given up, he starts calling again. He doesn’t leave a voicemail. I ignore him and smile over at Peyton and Lizzie. I’m helping them shop to restock the clubhouse. Not that they need my help. Their invitation was out of pity and obligation. Nitro was an ass last time we talked. This is his weird way of making it up to me.

“Are you settled back in your apartment?” Peyton asks.

“Yep. So, you can let Nitro know I’m fine.”

She laughs. “He worries about you. You know that.”

“With good reason,” Lizzie says. “Please tell me you came to your senses and stopped seeing the Widow Maker.”

That’s the way they know him. The Widow Maker. Enemy of the Rebel Souls. Despicable guy. Unredeemable.

But that’s not the way I know him. He’s just Zeke to me. The man who makes me laugh. The man who brings me food and gives me foot massages. The man who makes me cry out his name in ecstasy.

“I don’t call him that.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to lie. It would’ve been easy to tell them what they wanted to hear. Peyton could report back to Nitro that he has nothing to worry about. He’d get off my back and I’d go about my business.

“Cleo, no. He’s such a bad guy,” Peyton warns. “I get that he’s great in bed, but you don’t know him.”

“That’s what I hear. I don’t really give a shit about his reputation.”

“It’s not a reputation. It’s facts. I thought you’d have more loyalty to the Rebels.”

I don’t know Lizzie all that well, and I understand why she’s not a fan of Zeke. She has every right to hate him. He kidnapped her. Put her child in danger.

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