Five Ways to Fall
Page 56

“How’s the club doing these days?” Dan asks as he hands me a filled glass. “Ben told me about the metal detectors. You’ve got more scum coming in, now that Teasers is closed?”
“Yeah . . . it’s an investment, but it’s worth it.” I take a sip of my drink.
He nods his head slowly, a curious look passing over his face, and I wonder where this conversation is headed this time. Conversations with Dan about the club tend to head in one general direction.
His voice lowers to say, “Starting to hear rumblings of someone new in Miami. From up north, bringing in pure street-grade heroin. Not one of these idiot gangbangers who we can usually take down in a few weeks. An organized operation. This could be big. They expect it’ll lead to a turf war with the cartel.” Dan studies me closely with his next question. “You haven’t seen or heard anything?”
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. I’m not the only one who had a background check done. After Storm quit Penny’s, she admitted to me that Detective Dan had made inquiries and pulled some favors, suspicious of me. It didn’t take him long to dig up my past. I may have—miraculously—avoided a criminal record for my own crimes, but I’m still tied to an ugly paper trail as it relates to my parents.
I was only involved in the drug and prostitution scene by relation. I guess good ol’ Daddy didn’t think mixing me up with that side of the family business was a smart move, when he could make so much money off my fighting. Dan’s not stupid, though. He’s seen his share of that world. He knows it’s not built in silos—separating the dealers from the pimps from the thieves from the murderers. He knows that I’ve made all kinds of connections, whether I meant to or not. Hell, I still get approached by bookies once in a while for a big-ticket fight. Ten years later, all the way in Miami! And then there’s the fact that I’m in the business that I’m in, where I’m constantly approached with illicit propositions.
Dan knows I could find out, if I wanted to get involved. If I wanted to risk being labeled a police informant, basically painting a target on my chest and putting everyone around me at risk.
“I haven’t heard a thing, Dan. And you know those scumbags are not coming anywhere near Penny’s. That’s why I have the security that I do. That’s why I’m selective with who I hire.”
Dan nods his head once. “I know, Cain. But I told the guys I’d ask, anyway.” With a heavy exhale, he quickly changes the topic, his tone lightening up. “So, tell me about this new dancer at Penny’s.”
“The one that’s got Cain choking the chicken in his office every night?” Ben hollers, while furiously clicking keys to pummel Nate’s player in the face. “Uh-oh. Look! He’s pitching a tent already. ”
“Fuck off, Morris,” I throw back with an annoyed chuckle. “I’m not . . .” I close my eyes and heave a sigh. There’s no point defending myself. We’re not at Penny’s. That means the gloves are off and the jackass is just getting warmed up. Thank God he doesn’t know about last night.
“That’s how it’s done!” Ben shouts, tossing the controller at Nate’s broad chest. “I mean, seriously, Cain . . .” Ben now turns to give me his undivided attention, shaking his head. “Such a travesty. You don’t deserve to own a club. Fuck, you don’t deserve to own a dick!”
I know Ben’s just shooting his mouth off for entertainment purposes. We’ve had more than a few frank drunken-Ben conversations in the past, where he expressed his undying admiration for me for not taking advantage of my position.
Still, I toss a glare at Dan, who can’t keep the smirk off his face. “Thanks, man, for bringing her up.”
Dan lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Just surprised to hear the man of steel is finally hung up on a woman like the rest of us poor suckers, that’s all.”
“I’m not hung up.”
The coughs and poorly muffled laughter from the couch area confirm that no one is buying that. Hell, I’m not even buying it. After last night, my thoughts are more firmly hot-wired to Charlie than they were before. Hell, she knows most of my personal shit! For ten years, I’ve kept everything closed in. One night with her and I’m spilling my guts like a prisoner in a torture room. Only I wasn’t tortured. Far from it.
“Charlie might give you a shot, you know. If you’d stop your nightly jerk-off sessions already and ask her to yank your—” Ben’s voice cuts of abruptly, his eyes riveted on something behind me. Dan and I turn in unison to find the subject of his crass banter standing at the entrance in a blue bikini, a veggie platter in her hands.
Ben’s right. I am pitching a tent at the sight of that body. It’s only that much more desirable, now that I’ve been inside it.
Now that I’m desperate to get inside it again.
But I’m ecstatic to just see her again. I must have a stupid-ass smile on my face right now.
Fuck it, I don’t care.
I watch her stroll in, struggling to close my gaping jaw. “Storm asked me to bring this to you guys,” she explains, her bare feet soundless against the hardwood. Of course, Storm did. Because I’m here.
For a girl who had to have overhead Ben’s crassness, given how damn loud he is, she’s taking it rather well. No flushed cheeks, no mortified stare, nothing. I, on the other hand, grip the back of my neck to keep from lunging over the couch to pummel Ben.
“Hey, Charlie.” Ben’s big, dumb grin is in full force now. The guy’s so smooth around women, he probably doesn’t feel the slightest bit awkward. “When did you get here?” He certainly doesn’t feel awkward about checking out her chest.
“Just now. With Ginger.” Leaning forward, she offers her hand to Trent. “Hi, I’m Charlie.”
There’s a two-second delay in Trent’s response, where he simply stares at her face before he calmly lays down the game stick and his beer, and reaches forward to accept her hand with that damn smile that all the girls at the club still chatter about every time he shows up there. “Trent. Hi.”
The handshake lasts one, two, three seconds too long and I’m grinding my teeth, watching for any skin flushing or lip licking on her part. Jeez . . . I know Trent is head-over-heels in love with Kacey, so my jealousy is completely unfounded, and yet here I am, ready to pull them apart.
One night. Just one night with her and I’m done for.
“Hey, Nate.” Charlie winks at the ominous teddy bear, who smiles at her before flashing a rare, wide toothy grin my way. We connect every morning with a quick phone call or text. Today, he showed up at my door. He looked ready to beat the truth out of me by the time I finally confessed.
Rounding the couch, Charlie extends a hand to Dan. “I didn’t get to officially meet you last night, what with my passing out and all.”
“Charlie. I’ve heard so much about you.” At least Dan has the decency not to stare at her.
“And who’s been filling your head with lies about me?” she smoothly retorts, those beautiful wide lips of hers stretching into a grin.
“Cain never lies,” Ben throws back with a smirk.
Her playful eyes flicker over to me, where they rest for several seconds—an amused light dancing within them.