The Heart (Deck of Hearts #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

COLTON

I brush a finger over the back of the naked woman sleeping beside me. She’s pretty. But I guess I think everyone is pretty, which is why I keep finding myself in these situations.

What was her name again? I stare mindlessly at the lifeless painting hanging on the wall across the room. It’s a stupid piece of art, just a splatter of paint on canvas, but it came with the studio apartment and I haven’t found anything to replace it. I’ve wandered into galleries several times, but nothing ever spoke to me, not really.

So I just keep staring at this piece of nonsense as if it will somehow grow more interesting.

It doesn’t.

The woman stirs, and I glance back down at her, giving up all hope of remembering her name. Hell, I’m not even sure if I told her mine. I do remember she was kind, and that we connected immediately.

She blinks, and her sleepy eyes slowly open, looking up at me.

“Good morning, gorgeous.” I smile down at her.

“Good morning,” she says, then pulls the blanket over herself, clutching it tight to her chest before sitting up. My eyes follow the motion, somehow finding the subconscious gesture of insecurity upsetting. Doesn’t she know she’s beautiful?

The woman looks over to the nightstand, reaching for the phone that was tossed haphazardly onto it at some point during our frantic removal of clothing last night. She checks the time, then quickly slides out of bed, dragging the blanket with her and leaving me stark naked, sprawled out across my oversized mattress.

Which is fine by me, no insecurities here.

Especially when the assistance of morning makes my dick look great.

I smirk at the cute little blush that blooms across her cheeks when the woman realizes what she did. I chuckle, then pull up one knee so I can casually rest my hand on it. “So, do you wanna grab some coffee? Or… breakfast?” I give her a truly genuine smile, because we had fun last night. I wouldn’t mind getting to know her so we could have more fun another time.

“Um… listen–” She pauses, furrowing her eyes in consideration.

“Colton,” I say, helping her out.

“Colton, right.” She blinks, clearly embarrassed at not knowing my name and making me feel a little less bad for not remembering hers. “Last night was amazing, but I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“You were amazing. And this doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just coffee,” I tell her, because I don’t do the type of relationship she’s referring to, but I’m also getting a little tired of spending every meal by myself.

I’ve been shit company lately.

“I’m sorry, I… have plans,” she says quickly, her eyes darting away toward the end of the sentence. A gesture, and an excuse, that I’m well acquainted with.

I get it.

I’m a gimmick. I’m the guy with the tattoos, muscles and green eyes who’s fun for a wild one-night stand, but not someone you want to have coffee with in the morning. I should probably stop picking up women at The Club. More often than not, whoever I end up fucking has some fantasy or kink they’re interested in trying once. Then they go back to their normal, boring lives where they can pretend it never happened.

Which is fine.

I always enjoy it, but sometimes it makes me wonder if a “one-night only” fun time is all I’m good for.

“That’s alright,” I say, sitting up and tying my hair back into a low bun. “I’ll call you a car.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes are purposely avoiding where my package has been on full display this entire conversation as she quickly gathers up her clothes and scurries into the bathroom.

—

I walk back inside my studio after seeing… dammit, I still didn’t get her name … to a car and toss my keys onto the side table. The sound of them echoes through the empty room. I stand here for a long moment, staring without actually looking at anything. Taking in the silence for what it is.

Loneliness.

But how can I be fucking lonely? I’ve been on my own for most of my life, so why do I suddenly care now? Why does it matter now?

I chose this life. Chose to do my own thing, no matter how chaotic it is or irresponsible it makes me.

I chose to alienate myself from everyone around me.

Maybe the fact that I’m getting older is starting to sink in. Thirty was a fun time. It was the thrill of being out of my twenties, of being old enough for people to start taking me fucking seriously, but now that’s over.

Thirty-one feels like an existential crisis.

I glance down at my phone, realizing that it’s still early. The Club doesn’t even open for nearly twelve hours, so there’s no sense in heading there now.

I walk into the living room and drop down onto one of the leather couches. They also came with the place, because I didn’t want to fucking deal with buying anything when I’m hardly ever here anyway. If it weren’t for the bed or bathroom the cleaning lady I pay to come once a week would probably wonder if anyone even lives here. Maybe I should buy some trinkets or something. Looking around at the ultramodern decor and otherwise empty room is not helping my mood.

I stare at my reflection in the television that covers the entire wall, then search for the remote, finding it just out of reach.

Shit.

Oh well , there’s probably nothing I’m particularly interested in watching anyway. So I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts until one makes me smile. I tap the call button.

“Hello?” a confused voice asks on the other end of the line.

Great start, Colt.

“Hey, Sophia!” I say, trying to sound chipper.

“Colton? Why are you calling me?” she asks, her voice kind despite her confusion.

“No reason, just wondering if you wanted to have lunch or something later today?” I ask, already thinking of several eclectic places I know she would love. We’ve had dinner and fucked several times over the years, so I’ve gotten to know her pretty well.

“Lunch? No, I don’t think so. But maybe I’ll reach out another night?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid for calling her when the sun is still up. I know what we are; don’t know why I would think otherwise.

“Yeah, no worries, babe,” I say quickly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Bye, Colton.” She hangs up.

I continue scrolling through my contacts, smiling even wider this time as I hit the call button, I have a great idea. Like me, Sam is an adrenaline junkie and we’ve had some pretty great times, even during daylight hours.

“Colton?” she asks, but there’s not enough in her tone for me to determine if she’s happy to hear my voice, so I just start talking.

“Do you want to go skydiving today? I know this guy who can take us up. He’s got this little plane over in–”

“Colton, it’s seven AM on a fucking Monday.” She chuckles.

“So?” I ask, wondering what that has to do with skydiving.

“So? I have work, like most adults.”

I sigh, knowing that she didn’t mean that as a dig, but kinda finding it impossible not to take it that way. I make a shit-ton of money, I just don’t do it on Monday mornings. Not sure how that makes me less responsible, but apparently, it does.

I don’t regret my lifestyle choices.

Because Mondays fucking suck.

“Another time then?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.

“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see,” she says.

“Okay, how abo–” And… she already hung up.

I toss my phone to the other side of the empty couch and lean my head back to stare up at the vaulted ceiling. The fan spins above me, casting long, slow shadows from its blades.

I guess I could go to the gym. Or maybe I’ll just go back to sleep, it’s going to be a long night anyway.

I feel the vibration of my phone ringing through the couch. I tip my head to the side, trying to see who the call is from, but the screen is face-down. I grumble, then flop over onto my stomach to reach it, resting my forehead on the couch. I don’t even look at who it is as I jam the phone to my ear, my voice slightly muffled by the fabric when I answer.

“Fisher,” I clip my last name, my tone flat.

“Are you awake because you’re jerking off or because you never went to sleep? If it’s that first one, I’m hanging up until you put your dick away,” a deep, monotone voice says through the phone.

“Sebastian-fucking-Chase.” I quickly sit up, resting an arm across the back of the couch and propping my ankle up on one knee, my smile wide at hearing my friend’s voice. “I didn’t know that becoming a private investigator would make you so interested in the location of my dick. Unfortunately, it’s properly stowed.”

“Thank fuck for that.” He chuckles.

“Man, where the hell have you been? It’s been a while since you and Lu have shown your ugly faces around here.”

“That’s why I’m calling. You know that op we’ve been on? What’s it been, two years?”

“Sounds about right,” I say.

It’s been a year and eight months, but whatever.

“Well, it’s over, and we’re getting out of this city.”

“No shit?” I smile, because it’s about fucking time they left that hellhole. I hated visiting the few times that I did, especially with the Deck of assholes at each other’s throats the way they’ve been the past few years. Everyone knows The King of Hearts runs that city. Whatever he did to piss off the other gangs, also named after various playing cards, has caused more bloodshed among the Deck than I care to think about. Not to mention the fucking mess Sebastian and Luke made out of the Jack of Spades’ headquarters when they rescued that girl a month or so back.

I honestly don’t know what went through their thick skulls to make them dive back into that shit.

“We’re thinking of heading back your way,” Sebastian says and I tap my thumb, waiting for him to continue. “We have a job for you, if you’re interested?”

I let the words hang in the air as I glance around the empty studio. My eyes find their way to the attached dining room. To the table I’ve never fucking used.

Staring back at my thumb, I halt it and smile.

“I’m in.”