Page 39 of Mastered By Lust

She drops the Tagger in my palm, exhibiting a small amount of trust.

I take a photo of the back of the device. It includes some numbers and other code. I text it to Ryder Callihan at Ironwood and follow the text with a phone call.

He answers on the third ring. “Gage. Thanks for the pic.”

“Can you find out who it belongs to?”

“I’ll put our people on it. Where’d you find it?”

“It was behind my girlfriend’s license plate.”

“Fuck. I’ll have them rush. I’ll text you the results when we have them.”

“Text Leah, too. At the same time. I’ll send you her number.”

He doesn’t ask why he needs to text Leah. I’m grateful I don’t have to explain that I’m working to hold onto her trust.

As soon as I end the call, Leah moves closer and wraps her arms around me from behind. She presses her head against my back. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

I turn around so we’re hugging from the front. “It’s all right. I understand why you would be suspicious. Iamobsessed with you, after all.”

She gives me that crooked smile I love so much. “Good news, then. I’m obsessed with you, too.”

11

Dmitri

The crowded bar isn’t helping my headache. Some whiny douche wails through the jukebox. People are laughing, talking. One woman in the background shrieks when she laughs. Someone drops a glass and the entire place goes silent for a half beat before conversations resume.

It reminds me of when I dropped a glass at Low Vice. Seeing Leah and Gage kissing like that had twisted something inside me until I snapped.

Fucking Gage. Always running some kind of game.

Leah isn’t a toy.

Tomorrow is the auction. I haven’t been able to think about much else. I haven’t heard whether Leah will be there or not.

Guess I’ll know soon, because I have to fucking work that night.

Patrick knocks on the bar top. “Yo. Are you paying attention?”

“No.”

“Fuck you, man.” He laughs.

He’s the one who insisted we grab a drink at a bar near Vice before I go in for my Friday night shift.

“I’m trying to talk to you about Smooth Riff.” He takes a gulp of his vodka tonic.

“And I’ve been telling you we need to cool off with the planning. Or you should do it on your own.”

“You’re still obsessed with Leah.”

“No. Fuck no.” The accusation is rich, seeing how he panted after her at Granddad’s party. “It isn’t her?—”

“You nearly lost your fucking cool when you saw her on a date with that actor. Don’t tell me it isn’t her.”

I take a swig of beer, buying time. “It doesn’t matter.”

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