Page 104 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“You think this is a joke?” She yanked her arm out of my grip, then gestured around the room. “This is my life, Kingston. This apartment costs money. The clothes I wear to work cost money. The food I put in my mouth costs money. Every fucking thing costs money. And that’s money I don’t have anymore because of you and this… whatever the hell it is. This vendetta against women.”

I stepped closer, only for her to do the same, until she was glaring up into my face like she could stare me down. “It’s no secret I’ve always hated this aspect of the club,” I bit out, trying to control my tone so I didn’t wake the entire building. Trying to control my body so I didn’t touch her the way I so desperately wanted to. “Even though I see how much money you and the girls help bring in due to your”—I shook my head—“behaviors. But I am worried for your safety, Carina. What happened to Mr. Leonetti’s daughter-in-law is proof of the dangers that are out there for women like you and the others at the club. I am trying to protect you from what happened to her or the thousands of others who fall victim and aren’t lucky enough to get away. So yes, if taking a little money out of your pocket means you’re safe, then it’s worth it.”

She gave a tight smile, her head tilted to one side. “That’s nice. The next thing you’ll be telling me is that you’d murder anyone who touches me.”

She may as well have slapped me across the face. I jerked my head away, blinking at the wall as I tried to clear away the memories that flashed behind my eyelids. I wiped a hand down my face, then shook my head.

“I’m done fighting with you, Carina.” I turned toward her vanity, where my pants and underwear were neatly folded and my shirt was hung on a hanger from the side of the mirror.

“You’re done?” She followed after, watching as I pulled on my clothes as fast as I could. “You’re just walking away?”

“Think what you will about me.” I slipped on my shirt, not bothering to button it as I toed on my shoes. “Paint me as the devil if that’s what makes you happy. It doesn’t matter, as long as your death isn’t on my conscience.”

Without waiting for a reply, I brushed past her, storming through the quiet apartment and out the front door. The entire time, my heart was racing, my stomach churning as the past ate at me from the inside out.

I tried. I tried, and I would never stop.

There were some things you just couldn’t back down from.

Seven

CARINA

There was a familiar look on King’s face as he dressed and walked out of my apartment. It was something I’d seen on Vinny Leonetti when he thought he’d lost his girl for good. It was the look Lee Bridgewater wore when he’d been trying to find the woman he fell in love with when she was missing.

It was how I looked in the mirror when I’d confronted my reality that neither Vinny or Lee wanted me, and I was destined to live my life alone.

But the words King said didn’t fit with that look. All his talk of keeping me safe and not having my death on his conscience didn’t jive with the devastation etched in the hard lines of his face.

The incongruity nagged at my mind all day and every night. It didn’t help that King was acting like I didn’t exist. He went out of his way to avoid me, did everything he could not to look my way. I’d had so many messages relayed to me from the girls, bouncers, bartenders, and the dealers at the club, that it was starting to draw attention.

The night Leni showed up, King had made himself scarce, so I couldn’t have talked to him about her if I wanted to. He’d long ago given me the leeway to manage the number of girls we had on staff, but I’d always had the courtesy to introduce them to each other before the night was over.

Give him the option of saying no if he dared to cross me.

With Leni settled at a roulette table with Sienna, I excused myself, saying I needed a break. Except when I got through the staff-only door, I didn’t go to the dressing room.

King’s office was at the far end of the hall, closest to the security suite. The door was closed, but it always was. The man guarded his privacy like a jealous lover.

The doorknob moved easily when I twisted it, and I found King glaring at me from his desk when I pushed inside. Yet even with the glare affixed strongly to his face, underneath the mask of anger was that same desolate look.

His always-perfect hair was mussed at the front, the polished demeanor he always wore was frayed. His suit jacket was missing, and his tie hung loosely around the open neck of his shirt.

King didn’t say a word as I entered, which was no different than the past week but completely out of character for the man I knew. His eyes tracked me, the same way they did every night on the casino floor, as I walked across the Afghan rug. I’d gotten used to it, and in the absence of it, I’d come to realize I craved it.

Instead of stopping at the front of his desk as I usually would, I rounded the polished wood furniture, intruding on his space. He pushed his chair back, away from me, and his eyes flared as I perched my ass on the edge of the desktop.

“Kingston.” I crossed my arms. Felt a wave of displeasure when his eyes didn’t drop to my chest like they had in my bedroom.

“Carina.” His voice was razor sharp, each syllable carved right out of my flesh. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check in on you.” When he said nothing, I told him, “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

Dragging my gaze down his rumpled form, I shook my head. “I can see that. You look like hell.”

King ran a hand through his hair, the short locks feathering down across his forehead as he freed them from his fist. “I said I’m fine.”

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