Page 39 of The Players

He hated thinking back on that day. It was like a dark page from a diary he wished he could erase. “The night you and I met. I was supposed to meet her the morning after.”

Then Morelli had intervened. Bastard.

Understanding dawned on Sy’s face. “Ah, shit. Does she know? What happened that night?”

“No. And you’re not gonna tell her either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. If you want her to keep hating your guts, that’s your business. Just don’t hate on me ’cause I like staying on her good side.” He grinned. “I mean, you didn’t really expect me to keep my hands off her, did ya? Also, you’ve had her first, so you already know how sweet she tastes.”

“Actually, I don’t. We’ve never had sex.”

Sy sent him an incredulous look. “Jesus. I don’t know what happened between you two, but you’ve been missing out.”

Missing. Regretting. Hating. Loving. It was an endless cycle.

Protect and provide.

His father’s mantra echoed through his mind. They were the things that made a man a man; protecting his family and providing for them. The providing part was easy. He could give her the world, though she still had yet to ask him for something. It was the protecting part he feared to fail at. He had done so once before, but this time, it would be different. Even if she would hate them for it.

CHAPTER 14

SY

The next morning, Sy woke up to a foreign smell. What the hell was that? He sighed as he remembered he was lying in his bed, alone. After Vince gave Carmen a well-deserved spanking, he had reconsidered visiting her room. It hadn’t escaped his attention she’d held her whip nearby. Next to her on her bed, to be exact. Still, he had shown up at her door with a soothing ointment for her painful butt, hoping to earn him some points. Sadly, she’d slammed the door in his face. So much for letting bygones be bygones.

After taking a shower, his stomach could no longer deny the delicious scent of bacon, eggs, and he suspected, waffles. Shit, he was a sucker for waffles. It would be his request for his last meal. How had she found out?

As he walked into the kitchen, his gaze settled on the counter that was filled to the brim. It had over a dozen plates filled with food. He tensed as deep buried memories resurfaced.

Come here, boy. You want cupcakes?

Look at those cupcakes, you piece of shit.

Open your mouth. Open your fucking mouth!

Nausea swept over him, almost making him retreat. Except, a Bratva soldier sure as hell didn’t retreat. Wiping any emotion from his face, he sat at the kitchen island.

Judging by the industrious way Carmen was moving in her shorts and shirt, pulling another platter out of the oven, there was more food to come. None of it looked like cupcakes though.

He wondered what her game was. There was no doubt in his mind that the all-star breakfast was a setup.

“That’s a lot of food,” he said, and she whirled around to look at him.

Her cheeks turned pink. “I stress bake.”

“Do you now?”

“I’m taking it to the shelter this afternoon.”

No, she wasn’t. She wouldn’t be going anywhere on her own to deliver some basket filled with food like fucking Little Red Riding Hood.

“Pack it up and have it delivered.” When she stilled, he added, “You’re not going out on your own right now. Keegan and Morelli are still holed up somewhere.”

He grabbed a waffle, expecting her to slam a wooden spoon on his finger any second. She didn’t. What she did was pour him coffee.

“Black as your soul, I assume?”

Ah, there was the jab. “That’s right, doll.” He looked her body up and down, lingering at her perky breasts that looked heavy underneath her cami. “I’ll take my sugar later.”

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