Page 20 of Murder & Mayhem

“Night,” I call as he heads to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. I sit and stare at the closed door for a moment before standing and getting ready for bed. When I’m under my sheets, I lift my phone off the bedside table and call Oliver.

“Everything okay?” he asks when he picks up.

“Yeah,” I assure him. “Just thought I’d call. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

His sleep-filled chuckle is so sexy. “You can call me any time, day or night, Trouble. How was tonight?”

“A bust, but it was fine. Cain picked me up.”

“He did?” Oliver sounds genuinely surprised by that. “You didn’t kill him and chuck him off the end of the docks, did you?”

“Ha-ha,” I retort to his joke. “No. He was actually… It was weird. We actually got along, for once.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. It was just different.” Shaking my head to dislodge the thoughts of Cain, I instead ask, “Did you enroll two of the kids into Luc’s school?”

“Ah, I maybe should have talked to you about that. Yeah, I thought it would be good to have them nearby, just in case. Did I overstep?”

Tears sting my eyes as I close them against the onslaught of emotions. “Thank you,” I choke out. The fact that he thought to do that says everything about Oliver’s character.

“Any time, Red.” The sincerity in his tone chips away at my bruised and battered heart, carving out a spot that will forever belong to Oliver. Chewing on my bottom lip for a second, I lift the phone away from my ear and, holding it above me, I take a selfie with my dark hair spread out on my pillow. My hard nipples are clear to see through the thin fabric of my top, and my eyes look all sultry. The whole image practically screamscome fuck me.Pleased, I send it to Oliver and listen as his phone pings on the other end, followed by a pained groan.

“Trouble.”

“Just my way of saying thank you.”

He chuckles. “Such a tease.” For a moment, all I can hear is the sound of him shuffling around in his bed before the unmistakable sigh of… “Are you jerking off right now?”

“Are you not?”

“Oliver!” I chuckle, as my phone vibrates in my hand. Pulling it away from my ear, I murmur, “oh,” as I take in the photo he sent. Everything—and I meaneverything—is on display. I slowly roam my eyes over his lust-filled baby blues, to his toned pecs and tensed abs until I reach the lower end of the screen where his hand is fisted around his painfully hard cock.

“Touch yourself for me.” The husky timbre of his voice has me slipping my hand under my pajama top to pinch my nipples, and I moan as I picture his hands on me. “That’s it, baby.” His own heavy pants come down the line as he works himself over, the knowledge inching me higher.

I direct my hand south as it slips beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts. The only sound is our mutual pants and soft moans as we get ourselves off to the thought of one another.

“Oliver,” I moan, just before I come all over my fingers.

“That’s it, Red. Fuuuuck.”

I curl onto my side, the phone still to my ear as my eyes drift shut. Oliver’s voice is the last thing I hear before I fall asleep. “Night, Trouble. Sweet dreams.”

Chapter 8

It’s the end of my third shift at Belle Donne, and so far, there’s been no sign of Dante or any other men in Giovanni’s inner circle. I’m beginning to think this whole plan was a bust, and I’m in a particularly sour mood as I make my way to the dressing room to change. Walking past the office, I notice the door is ajar and slow down to listen for any sounds from within the room. When all is silent, I decide to take a chance and duck inside.

My eyes roam over the stacks of paper piled on the desk before noticing the filing cabinets along the back wall. Not wanting to hang around for longer than necessary, I hurry across the room toward them and start pulling open cabinet drawers. I have no idea what I’m hoping to find, but I can’t continue to sit around and wait for Dante to show up.Ifhe shows up.

The first cabinet is filled with receipts and bills. None of it means anything to me, and I quickly shut it and move on to the next one. Randomly picking a file, I flick through it, stopping when I find a list of businesses. Not having the time to analyze it all now, I quickly snap pictures of each of the pages and stuff the file back where I got it. I rush through the rest of the cabinet, but I don’t identify anything else of interest, and not wanting to get caught, I cross my fingers that what I did find might be of some use and slip out of the room.

***

“Tuck your elbow in,” Jon reminds me, giving me just enough time to do as he instructs before I strike out, landing a solid punch on his chest. “Good.”

It’s been over a week since my first shift at Belle Donne, and there is still no sign of Dante yet. With every passing day, I’m losing faith in my plan, and as confidence in myself waivers, I find myself pulling away from Oliver and Cain more and more. I haven’t seen Cain since that first night—apparently, he’s as intent on avoiding me as I am after our heart-to-heart. And Oliver… He’s texted a few times and called, but my responses have been short. Which only adds to the guilt gnawing away at my insides. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that, but I feel like I’m letting both of them down. If this plan doesn’t work, I’m not sure what else we can do. There is no plan B. I sent Oliver the list of businesses I found and he said he’d get people to check them out, but we don’t know if the info is of any use yet, or how to utilize it, and beyond that, there is no other plan. They are relying on me to pull through and, currently, I’m failing miserably.

Sweat coats my skin, my labored breaths giving away my evident exhaustion as I throw the last of my energy into another punch. We’ve been at it for over an hour now, and thankfully, Jon’s chest glistens with sweat, too, so I’ve provided him as much of a workout as he has given me. He’s an excellent teacher. This is our third session, and I’ve come a long way in such a short period of time.

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