Page 34 of Clinch'd

“Hm, did you tell her you got laid, baby?” he asks, playfully but his eyes are still icy, and I shiver, looking away.

“Funny,” I say, ill at ease. What’s happened between our fuck fest in the car and his meeting with ‘Patterson’?

He glances at his watch with a grimace and I’m so fucking tired of the hotel hopping that I avoid his distant stare as I murmur, “I’m tired. I’d like to go back to my room.”

“Is that so?”

Thankfully, Jordan didn’t follow us for this awkward interlude, and I lean my head against the seat warily, pushing back the headache brewing in my skull.

Does Cooper know his manager is a dick? Who’s Patterson? Why is the mafia after him?

“Yes, please. I’m tired,” I whisper. When he doesn't answer, I open my eyes and meet his narrow-eyed stare.

Does Cooper know more than he’s letting on? But if so, why engage? He’d be better off leaving me in the cold since I’m the one about to ruin his world. I think.

“I’ll drop you at your room, but you’ll need to be ready by eight pm,” he says after an extended silence.

I can’t suppress the frown because I’m exhausted but he speaks before I can make the situation worse. “What's the matter, baby? Tired of the pretense already?”

Warily I clench my fists in my lap as I search his eyes, until he raises a brow and says silkily, “You wanted to piss off your cousin, right?”

“Right, um yes of course,” I fumble, flushing when his mouth curls into another cold smile.

I feel like he’s playing with me, but I don't know why or if I’m just being paranoid, so I smile back just as coolly and watch his eyes flicker before he looks away.

The remainder of the ride is silent and although he gets out to help me do the same, he slides back in the car once I’m free and says curtly before closing the door in my face, “Eight pm.”

Chapter 12

Cooper

Everything about Patterson made me feel slimy, starting with meeting the fucker in the first place but I had zero choice. I needed men like him to help me track down my sister.

Thoughts of which turned my already sour stomach. Where the fuck was my sister?

I took my aggression out on Minnie after that ridiculous lunch which she met with enthusiasm. And I ain’t mad about that at all but my euphoria fades the closer we get to Patterson.

Did the asshole have answers or was he jerking me around?

All of this rolls around my head as I drop Minnie at the bar and approach the back room where Patterson likes to lord over his tiny kingdom.

We both know he’s small fish as Jordan would say but maybe he pays his dues to keep off the radar of the men who truly own the city. All I know is that he’s as close as I’m going to get to the mafia without being a card-carrying member.

There’s no fucking way I’m going down that road.

“Jackson,” the little weasel says as I sit before him.

With a nod, I cross my arms and wait. I know he would draw this shit out if he could and this is a precautionary measure to keep from strangling him in my frustration.

To my surprise though, he gets straight to the point except I don’t fucking like the news.

“Wherever she is, she don’t want to be found.”

Eyeing him carefully, I finally lean forward, place my palms on the desk and say, “Come again?”

He has the good grace to look away before his brows crinkle and he says, “You wanted me to look. I did.”

“What about Shaw?” I bark and he whips around.

---