Page 36 of Play With Me

I don’t need him.

Anders

Cara leaves me in the middle of the dance floor, dumbstruck, with a raging hard-on that’s difficult to hide.

We were having a good night. So, of course, I go and ruin it. I justhadto remind her that it’s not real—even if I’m starting to want it to be. And if her actions this week are anything to go by, she wants it, too.

We’re getting too comfortable. Too involved. I’m trying to make sure I can do my job without distraction, but when my job is to be the distraction…well, Cara and I are walking a blurry line that I’m trying to keep solid.

But tonight, I was still planning on allowing myself to indulge in her once more—just one more time, before going cold turkey and keeping it strictly professional. I was trying to be playful—trying to get back into our routine of arguing backand forth until we end up ripping each other’s clothes off.

I saw it play out on her face—the moment I fucked it all up. Even if it was meant to be playful, she definitely didn’t take it that way. I finally force myself to move—to go after her—when a hand wraps around my bicep, anchoring me in place with more force than necessary.

“You’re awfully handsy with Carmela tonight, Detective.” Mick’s tone holds an edge of warning, like I’m entering dangerous waters, and he holds the key to the shark tank.

Thing is, sharks don’t scare me. Neither do cheating bastards who think they can treat women like possessions.

“I’m handsy with her every night, Mick. You saw to that.” I wink at him and plaster a smarmy smirk on my face before pulling my arm out of his grip.

He looks around to ensure no one is paying any attention to us, but after my own quick sweep of the room, I can see the only person even showing a shred of interest in our little exchange is Kate. “Go enjoy your anniversary party with yourwife. Leave Carmela alone. You don’t need to worry, I’m taking good care of her.”

An angry vein pops on his forehead as his face grows red as a tomato. “Listen here–”

“No, you listen to me.” I lower my voice and step into him until we’re chest to chest. “I have a hunchthat what’s going on has to do with you.Youare the one putting her in danger. She deserves better than waiting on the sidelines until you want her company. I know it, you know it, and she fucking knows it.”

He has the audacity to mirror my smirk. “Yet, she still comes running whenever I call. I give her everything she needs, Brooks. Are you starting to think she needs you? Because let me tell you right now that Carmela won’t leave my side. She likes the comfort of her life too much.”

“Are you threatening to take it all away if she doesn’t do what you say?” I know Mick bought the club for Carmela, but he also mentioned he pays her. I wonder just how much of her life is because of his money. Her fancy suits. Her lavish apartment. Does he pay for it all?

The look he gives me makes me feel uneasy. It’s a knowing smile that tells me I’m missing something—a piece of their complicated puzzle I’m overlooking, and he knows it.

“I don’t have to threaten anything, Brooks. Carmela knows who she belongs to. If the way you two were acting tonight is indicative of what’s going on behind closed doors, just know that when this is all over, you’ll be going back to California, and she’ll still be mine.” He walks off, heading toward his wife, not giving me a chance to respond.

“Dick,” I mutter, heading to the exit.

It’s still early—barely eight. Carmela and I aresupposed to be doing the show tonight, but the man at the front tells me she’s already left in a cab, so I grab my own and head to Désirer, silently cursing her for leaving by herself.

Carmela can’t be that far ahead of me, but her office is empty when I make it to the club, and her wings are still hanging up.

The doors to the Desires hall are open, the show already started, but the Grand Room is still busy—typical for a Saturday night. Blending in with the other penguin suits, I search for Carmela’s dress since none of her outfits were out of place in her office.

My heart rate picks up. A swell of anxiety rolls through my chest, even though I know Martin and Nikolai are somewhere in Désirer. As soon as I see her, the anxiety cannonballs into my stomach, splashing acid back up into my esophagus.

Carmela is pressed against Luca. Her hands are fisted in his hair while he holds her steady by the waist as he kisses her. I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but my mouth is too dry. He looks at her adoringly when they part, skimming his knuckles along the skin of her cheek where her bruise is nothing but a faint yellow spot now.

Whatever they are saying, I can’t make it out. I can’t force myself to turn away when she grabs his hand and leads him into the hall. Can’t make myself follow them and do my fucking job because it feels like I’ve been sucker punched, and I can barely breathe.

It’s better this way.

I know it is. Better for her to turn to him and for me to see it happen. It makes it easier to erect a barrier around the feelings that keep trying to creep past my ivory bones and into my heart.

Carmela is just a job. One I feel like I’m failing at as it is.

So why does it feel like I just caught a girlfriend cheating on me?

Jace sets a whiskey in front of me without a word as I sit at the bar. His pitying look is enough to tell me he saw me witness Carmela and Luca disappearing into the dark. Almost all the employees have experienced Carmela and me going at each other verbally or physically over the last few weeks.

Apparently, everyone thinks it’s more than it really is. A tall, athletically built, brunette beauty in a pair of platinum wings approaches me and lays a hand on my back. “You know, there’s plenty of us who can give you what you want. Madame might pick a new toy every now and then, but she always goes back to Luca.”

---