Chapter 5
Five
RHEA
T he casino floor was one of my least favorite places.
I rarely, if ever , had a reason to torture myself with that particular brand of over-stimulation, but when I sent Isolde a “ bitch where are you?? ” text and got a location pin dropped in response?
I got my ass up to loiter among the slot machines.
Or, more accurately, the poker tables.
Never mind that her ass had been unreachable for nearly a month, running around Ibiza or wherever the fuck, hosting ultra-private, likely-illegal, poker games; I needed to talk to my friend before she jetted off somewhere else.
I slid into the empty seat next to her, waiting for the round of betting to be done. Usually the dealer would’ve sent me on my way if I wasn’t playing, but Isolde had spoken up as I approached.
So instead of getting dismissed, I got ignored, which was fine.
I wasn’t here to play, I was here to talk.
“You’re off kilter,” she muttered, not looking away from the poker table. “Long night last night?”
I huffed a quiet laugh, letting my head tip back for a second before I answered. “It has been a long… two and half weeks?”
Isolde shifted her chips between her fingers as the dealer laid out cards.
She was thinking.
After a moment, she pushed a few chips forward, declaring an intention to raise before she looked to me again. “We’re being mysterious this morning? What happened two and a half weeks ago?”
“My bad,” I laughed. “I’m just… still processing. You familiar with Micah McKnight?”
She tipped her head, a movement exaggerated by the size of her natural fro. “ Ace of Spades Micah McKnight?”
“Yeah. You know the fight he just won… a couple weeks back, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“So Dream hosted his victory party.”
“Uh huh.”
“Meaning… I hosted his victory party.”
“Uh huh.”
“We touched.”
“Fold,” Isolde told the dealer, immediately putting her cards down to turn to me with wide eyes. “Say more things.”
“I didn’t mean for you to stop playing. This is why I came by instead of texting you.”
She scoffed and swung her legs off the stool. “No ma’am, this requires my full attention. Come on.”
I laughed as I followed her away from the poker table. “It’s not like I’ve never touched a man before. I do plenty of that.”
“That’s debatable,” Isolde said, pulling me into an empty lounge area off the poker floor. “And let’s be honest, Micah McKnight is a whole different level of man, so… be serious.”
“I am!” I insisted, dropping onto a plush velvet couch next to her. “And you’re right—Micah is a whole different level of man. I couldn’t read him.”
Her eyebrows went up. “What?”
“Uh huh,” I nodded. “I was so drawn to him, like I couldn’t help it. There was this eye contact, and this energy, and then… nothing.”
“You weren’t getting anything from him?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Well… when I was doing the welcome walk thing, there was this moment… he told me to come to him. But he didn’t say it. He didn’t have to say it. I just felt it.”
“He was in your head?”
“Not exactly,” I murmured. I’d actually forgotten about that, until just now. “I don’t know how to describe it. I was just… freaking… magnetized , or something. But I couldn’t actually get anything from him. Until he touched me, touched my skin.”
“And we already know what happens with that.”
“We thought we knew,” I corrected.
“What does that mean?”
I sighed. “So… with Micah… I would’ve expected the day someone channeled his juvenile trauma into boxing, or… his first tourney win, something like that… But instead, it was this nigga seeing my face on social media for the first time. Him showing up at Dream. Him seeing me ringside. Like… what the fuck does that mean?!”
Isolde’s eyes narrowed into slits, nose wrinkled. After a moment, her face relaxed, and she put a hand to her forehead. “Bitch…” she whispered.
“What? What is it?!” I asked, confused.
She sucked her teeth, dropping her hand. “Rhea… when you touch people, you see… moments that rewired their brain chemistry, right?”
“Yes.”
“So tell me what exactly is confusing about seeing yourself in that nigga’s head?!” she hissed. “Have I really failed you like this? Obviously he’s in love with you.”
Immediately, my face dropped into a scowl. “Please be for real. Like, the most for real you’ve ever been.”
“I am!”
“I don’t know him!” I insisted. “Before a couple weeks ago, we’d never met! I mean, I’d seen him before—on TV, on social media, thought he was fine. That was it! We’d never even had a conversation before he called me the night of the fight, and I promise you, that shit was not love . He got on my fuckin’ nerves!”
“Is that not love?”
“Bitch!”
“What?!” she laughed. “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry. I get that this is throwing you for a loop, but I… it doesn’t seem that crazy to me. Rhea, we’ve dodged like seven diamonds between the two of us. He would not be the first nigga to fall in love with you at first sight.”
I sighed. “It’s not just that. Why couldn’t I see inside his head? Why was I drawn to him like that? Oh—and I didn’t even tell you this part—he gave Chas a phone for me… and ten minutes later, my old one broke. You telling me it was just a coincidence?”
“Absolutely not, there’s actually no way,” Isolde said, shaking her head. “Maybe… he can read your mind? No… that doesn’t make sense. But he definitely knows something you don’t.”
“No shit, Sherlock!” I fussed, making her laugh again. “Of course he knows something I don’t; he told me I wasn’t ready to hear it.”
“Did he say why?”
I pressed my lips together, shrugging. “Maybe something to do with me threatening to shoot him?”
“You didn’t!”
“I did,” I groaned. “He actually liked that though, so I don’t even think that’s it.”
“Sounds like you’re going to just have to… I don’t know, ask him?”
“I tried that already! He wants to play games though. He hung up on me.”
“What happened when you called back?”
“I don’t call niggas back, you know that.”
She laughed. “I mean… that’s badass in general I guess, but this situation seems pretty unique. It’s not every day that we encounter somebody… like us.”
“Even more reason for me to not be chasing his ass.”
“So you just haven’t heard anything else from him?”
I sighed. “No… he’s texted a couple of times. And apparently I’m going to be dealing with him at my new job.”
“What new job?”
“See!” I fussed. “This is why you’ve gotta stop with the unreachable shit! My whole life is getting turned upside down and you’ve missed three conversations’ worth of stuff!”
Those words were barely off my lips when I felt… a shift.
This time, it was familiar.
“Oh, what’s happening?” Isolde whispered, looking around. “Something exciting.”
I swallowed hard, pulse racing under the weight of eyes on me.
Told you I’d be seeing you.
My head shot up, gaze whipping directly to where Micah was standing—a good distance away, but close enough for eye contact. He was with a group. Kingston Whitfield was the only person I recognized, but I could easily guess the others were part of Micah’s management team.
They were all in conversation, which made sense. Micah was sponsored by Reverie.
But he wasn’t paying the people he was with any attention.
He was locked in on me.
I rolled my eyes, shifting back to Isolde, who was watching with pure amusement on her face.
“He’s in my head. I hate him,” I groaned, and she laughed.
“Actually, I think you want to ride his dick.”
“Two things can be true at once.”
“Rhea!”
“What?”
“He’s coming over here.”
Uggggh.
That’s really how you feel?
I turned to find he’d already made it across the floor, and was only a few feet away. I hated the way my body responded—heart racing, immediate hard nipples, heat in my face… embarrassing.
“Oh bitch, he’s obsessed with you,” Isolde muttered.
“Yeah, he’s a fucking stalker,” I said at a completely normal volume, knowing he would hear me.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I was here before you. Debriefing with King and my team. So if anybody is doing any stalking…” He raised an eyebrow at me, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Ugh.
I wanted to slap all the smug off his face.
Or… sit on it.
Either would probably work to unleash some of the maddening, unholy aggression this man seemed to elicit in me.
“How you doing? I’m Micah McKnight,” he said, shifting his attention to Isolde, who stood. He started to extend a hand to her, but then… hesitated.
Pulled back.
“You… are dangerous,” he said, very matter-of-factly.
Isolde grinned. “The fact that you picked that up is… interesting. What’s your deal?”
“Rhea will be able to share that with you soon enough,” he replied.
“Or… you could tell me now,” she said, stepping closer to him, turning her—frankly gorgeous—smile up about ten megawatts.
Micah shook his head. “That’s not going to work on me, Isolde.”
Her eyes went wide, and she laughed. “You know my name.”
“I do,” he nodded.
“Tell me how.”
Micah’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head again. “Rhea will explain it eventually.”
For a moment, they just stared each other down, then Isolde nodded, looking to me with a smirk. “I like him, Rhea.”
“I don’t,” I countered, making her laugh.
“I’ve got poker to play; you kids have fun,” she said, already walking off.
“We were having a conversation!” I called after her, but she didn’t even look back, and I was not about to make a scene yelling across the casino floor.
Instead… I turned to Micah.
“Why are you still standing here… unless you’re about to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re giving some real hostile energy right now. What I do?”
“Exist.”
“That’s cold,” Micah chuckled, shaking his head. “You know you don’t have to be this mad at me, right?”
“You know what would make me less mad?” I challenged, narrowing my eyes at him. “Answers! And don’t say soon enough, or any other cryptic bullshit, or I swear, I will swing.”
Micah studied me for a beat, then let out a slow exhale. “You want answers?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Micah. I want you to keep get on my fucking nerves— of course I want answers!”
He scoffed, then went into his pocket and pulled out something small, holding it between his fingers before extending it toward me.
A thick playing card.
I frowned, glancing down at it but not reaching for it. “What is that?”
“Take it.”
With a huff, I took it. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
He smirked, stepping back. “You’ll see.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to say that shit to me?”
“My bad,” he said, grinning as he backed away. “Guess I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”
“Oh, fuck you, Micah,” I snapped, but he was already too far away to keep going.
I scowled, flipping the card over in my fingers as my heart raced, absorbing which one it was.
Queen of spades.