I lean toward him, lips curling up. “Don’t act like you didn’t know too, you little snake.”
He grins sheepishly. “It was her mistake to fix.”
“And she came clean. Good for her.”
“That counts for something. You’re a scary bastard, you know that? She was probably worried you’d rip her head clean off. And honestly, I’m a little surprised you didn’t. You have a soft spot for her, don’t you?”
I grunt at him and lean back. I catch sight of her serving drinks, and even though she looks worn and tired, she’s still somehow radiant, and I hate that I keep staring at her despite how much I’d rather forget this whole thing and move on. But my phone vibrates with another text from Vince (bro, seriously, Charlie wants you to come to the Sandtrap, please stop being a prick and come over, or at least send Grace) and I can’t quite let this go.
We’re too close. Grace performed admirably that night—much better than I ever had a right to believe she would.
I should be happy, but I’m not.
I’m fucking miserable.
“I’m having a hard time trusting her now, and this little game of ours involves a lot of trust. I’m not sure how we’re going to recover.” I slide the empty glass toward Dustin the bartender and gesture for another.
“And what exactly is your game?” Diego asks. I give him a flat stare and he sighs. “All right, fair enough. But maybe think of this from her perspective, okay? You’re a total stranger, and a terrifying and dangerous stranger on top of that. She started out misleading you and by the time you two started whatever it is you’re doing, she was in too deep. But she eventually came clean, right?”
“I’m not sure why you keep defending her.” Dustin hands me a fresh drink and I suck half of it down.
“Frankly, I’m not sure either, but you seemed almost happy for a little bit there. It was extremely unlike you.”
“If I was happy, it wasn’t because of her.” Which is bullshit and we both know it.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself. I’m on your side no matter what you choose, but personally, I like the girl. I think you could do much worse.”
“We’re not actually together,” I say and swirl my drink, watching Grace as she walks across the room like she’s gliding. “I’m not doing anything. It’s only a job.”
“Whatever you say.” Diego slaps my back before he gets up and walks off with a wave. I watch him go, cursing under my breath the whole time. That bastard knows me better than anyone in this world and he can see right through all my self-deceptions and justifications.
Why the hell am I so angry?
She doesn’t owe me anything and she never did. So what if she misled me about the exact nature of her cousin’s disappearance? Dead is as good as missing, and I can hunt down a killer as easily as I can find a runaway girl.
Only finding the killer will be much more complicated—especially since she’ll want to get revenge on the guy. If he’s in the Manzini family like she thinks, and he’s a made man, I won’t be able to do a damn thing against him without Vince’s permission.
But why do I need to help her beyond finding him? She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions, even though I know that whoever she’s after is a dangerous killer already and likely won’t hesitate to end Grace’s life as well. The idea makes my blood boil, and that’s the problem.
I feel protective of her. I feel like I own her.
And yet she lied to me.
I grind my jaw in frustration as my brain goes back and forth, back and forth. I should’ve seen this from the start since all the signs were there, but I was too busy lusting after her to think straight. God, what a fucking nightmare. My cock was too hard and no blood was left for my brain.
It’s a mess. There’s no clear way out and I’m not sure what I can do to fix the situation. Every time I think about wiping my hands of this and walking away, I catch sight of her bending over, laughing, smiling, looking gorgeous in that ridiculous drink girl outfit, and I can’t bring myself to turn my back on her.
By the time I finish my drink, it’s late and Sunshine’s on the pole. She twirls in slow, lazy circles, contorting her back and legs and hips, and I should be entranced by her movements—but all I can do is watch Grace wipe down a table and bus away the empty glasses. When she stops at the bar and says something to Dustin, she glances in my direction and I swear I catch a hint of pink in her cheeks like my simple gaze is making her blush, and I can’t take this shit anymore.