Page 13 of Wicked Games We Play

Lily was soft and feminine. She was the sun shining through the gray storm clouds on a dreary day. She made everything brighter and full of life. And after being trapped in a loveless marriage for most of her youth, I wanted to show her everything that I could give her, not push her away by making her angry and jealous.

“She won’t respond well to jealousy,” I told Rosie matter-of-factly.

“Trust me babe, the last thing that woman will want is someone touching her man, even if she refuses to acknowledge that you are her man.” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss against my cheek before she stood up. “See ya later, boys.”

All three pairs of eyes snapped to Rosie’s backside as she walked away from our table. The crowd parted as she made her way through the bar, as if she were the queen herself.

“Wipe the drool away, fellas. Trust me when I say you don’t want to go messing around with that one.”

“She’s a total knockout though, man,” Aaron whined, reminding me of a horny teenager. “You hitting that? Is that why we can’t?”

“No, I’m not fucking hitting that,” I hissed. Had they not listened to what I said when I came back from outside? “She’s a man-eater, bro. If you want to be the one who’s the booty call—by all means—go grab her number. Rosie is your classic playboy, wrapped up in a woman’s body.”

“A woman’s body that I wouldn’t mind having beneath me,” Caleb chimed in, still watching Rosie while she stood at the bar.

I turned my attention to him, smirking. Caleb had been happily married for years now, and he absolutely adored his pregnant wife, Isla. His smile was wide, satisfied with his own joke.

“I’m going to go get her number,” Aaron quipped, abruptly scooting his chair back to stand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I mused halfheartedly, cracking my knuckles and gearing up for the show.

He moved toward where Rosie stood between a man and a woman I had never seen before.

Quickly turning my attention back to Caleb and Will, I explained Rosie’s situation. “He’s about to learn the hard way not to mess with a girl marked by a member of Sinners Warlord. Especially when she’s been marked by the pres.”

Will smirked at me, understanding exactly why I hadn’t wanted Aaron to fuck with her, while Caleb watched across the room where Aaron had just placed his hand on Rosie’s lower back.

Sinners Warlord was Ridgewood’s motorcycle club that liked to think they terrorized the city streets, while really, they were a bunch of vigilantes in leather. Every crime the Sinners had committed had been one that ultimately assisted the P.D., so we frequently looked in the other direction as they did their clean up.

They had a code—never hurt an innocent but make the guilty suffer.

That type of code was exactly why we looked in the other direction. We knew enough about the Sinners to know that they took three things very, very seriously: their family, their women, and ridding the streets of scum. And from what Rosie had told me, she was now caught in the middle of two Sinners.

From across the room, I watched as Rosie physically removed Aaron’s hand from her body and shook her head at him, to which his shoulders sagged in defeat. He turned and made his way back to our table, and we all stayed silent, watching intently as he slumped into his chair.

“Well, that fucking sucks,” he whined. “She said, and I quote, ‘you’re adorable darling, but my cat simply can’t deal with another mouse.’ What the hell does that even mean?”

I snorted a laugh, my eyes flicking back to Rosie, unsurprised to find her watching me. She threw me a wink before turning back to continue her conversation with the man on her right. “It means you should have listened to me. She’s taken, and by a Sinner, no less.” I laughed. “Maybe two. Which you would have heard if you hadn’t chased after her like a lovesick puppy.”

Aaron groaned, crossing his arms on the table and dipping his head to lie on top of them. “Two? How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Returning his earlier sentiment, I clapped my hand against his shoulder, grabbing it hard as I scooted my chair back and used his body to lift myself. “You’re not,” I told him before turning my attention to Caleb and Will. “Gentlemen, I’m out. See you guys tomorrow. Get home safely.”

I didn’t wait for their responses before I made my way toward the exit, my thoughts lingering back to Lily, and I couldn’t help but wonder what her reaction would be if I showed up on her doorstep right now and demanded that she be mine.

CHAPTERSEVEN

Either the clock was broken or time had stopped for the day.

All day, Rosie’s words ran through my mind, and I contemplated if I should test her theory. It had been radio silent from Lily since the night we had some fun over text messages, yet I hadn’t reached out to her either. I was torn between wanting to see what happened if I made her jealous or asking her out on a proper date.

“Whitlock.” The hairs stood on the back of my neck when I heard the deep baritone of my boss call for me from his office.

Wes was a burly man who joined the Ridgewood Police Department when he was twenty-two years old. He climbed the ladder quickly, finding a home within the force. It only took him around twenty years of service before stepping into the Chief of Police role three years ago, something that took his predecessors well over twenty-five years to achieve.

While everyone at the station had a deep-rooted respect for him, we also all feared him. Wes was a hot-headed man with a temper and exceptional attention to detail. One screw up on a police report or file and heads would roll.

He forced us to be better officers, although it increased our stress levels. And when he called you into his office, you better believe shit was about to go down. Apparently, it was my head on the chopping block today.

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