Page 72 of Red My Lips

I instruct Stevie to park in the spot reserved for Gage in the employee lot right next to the club entrance, and she follows me back to his office. Stevie gets excited about being in the employee-only area of the club, and she tries to poke her head into every doorway we pass along the way. If she weren’t in such a hurry, I’d show her around and tell her all the drama that goes on behind the scenes. Walking into Gage’s office, I promise to give her a full, in-depth tour the next time she’s here.

Opening the top drawer of the desk, I pull out a small set of keys with a flaming heart keychain on it. I lift them up to show Stevie. “These are the ones you need, right?” If not, I can call Gage. He’s busy right now, but I know he’d drop everything to answer my call before the second ring.

“Yes, those are the ones. You’re my savior,” Stevie sings as she accepts the keys from me. “I swear, if Saint screws around with my work because he decided to be an idiot again, I’m going to riot.”

“I’ll bring the gasoline,” I add, making her grin. A ding on her phone has her checking the time.

“Shit, I gotta go, or I’m going to be late. Do you have a ride home?”

“My car is parked in the lot,” I say.

“Okay, cool. Thanks again, I’ll see you later.” She catches me off guard when she leans in for a quick hug before she’s off in a flurry of pink. Looking around the office, something occurs to me.

I’m here by myself.

Without any eyes on me.

For the first time in months, I’m completely alone. My shadow is currently occupied elsewhere, and I know for a fact he doesn’t allow cameras in his offices. No one takes their privacy more seriously than a man who’s doing the watching.

Walking over to his desk, I sit down in the chair and hit the space bar on the keyboard. His computer comes to life, the cursor blinking on the login screen as it waits for a password.

What would Gage use as a password?

My name is too obvious. Anyone who knows him would try that first. He wouldn’t choose a date for this, it’s not long enough for a computer login. My fingers hover over the keys for a moment before I finally start typing.

LittleDevil.

When I hit enter, the box turns red to tell me it’s incorrect. But something in my gut tells me to try again. So I type again.

MyLittleDevil.

Hitting enter has the login screen disappearing to show the desktop. A wave of pride and giddiness ripples through me at the small victory. Not only am I Gage’s password, I’m also his screensaver.

A black and white photo of us takes up the whole screen, making my heart flutter. It’s a picture I took in the reflection of the hotel elevator. I’m smiling wickedly at the mirror while Gage is standing behind me with his arms wrapped around me. He has his head buried in my neck as he whispers naughty things in my ear. I remember the moment this picture was taken like it happened a minute ago, not a few weeks.

Refocusing on my task, I start my search. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I’ll keep looking until I find it. Because with the men I’ve had in my life, there’s always something to find.

I trust Gage with my life, with my soul, and with my heart. I want to know what he has on me more than anything else. Does he know things about me that I don’t? How far has he dug into my life, and what skeletons has he unburied in the process?

Scrolling through his files, I find one titled “Menace,” and I click on it. Hundreds of files pop up, each one labeled with a date, some with a specified time. Clicking on it, I find myself looking at surveillance photos and videos.

Photos and videos of me.

Me working. Me dancing with Lana. Me shopping for groceries. Me in my apartment. Even me getting changed in the club dressing room. Every new photo of me that flashes across the screen has another spike of adrenaline coursing through me until I’m high off it. And with every image, the same message is pounded into me over and over.

Gage Lawless is madly obsessed with me.

After reveling in that truth for a few minutes, I finally shut down the computer and stand to leave. Since Gage has been driving me everywhere lately, my car is still parked in the lot from a few days ago. I won’t have to order a ride home.

Grabbing my purse off the desk, my bag catches the corner of a cigar box and sends it clattering to the ground. An irritated huff escapes me as I crouch down to collect all of the expensive cigars that have fallen out and scattered across the carpet. Lifting the cigar box off the floor, a heavy thump catches my attention as something else falls out and lands at my feet. Looking down at it, my brain glitches as I try to process what I’m looking at.

It’s shiny and metallic.

And very familiar.

The breath stills in my chest as I lift the short, heavy gold chain off the floor and stare at the charm hanging on the end.

Double aces.

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