19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Sylvie
On Monday morning when I checked my schedule, I groaned in dread. Ms. Julia Simpson Miller Schatzman was my first appointment of the day. I wasn’t in the mood for her catty gossip or shallow digs. Julia was there to arrange husband number three’s funeral, and she’d just turned forty. The woman wore a lowcut black cocktail dress and red-soled stilettos while oozing fake grief for her dead husband, who was at least thirty years her senior. I had to give it to Julia, she was a dependable, repeat customer.
The woman’s heavy, floral perfume wafted through the mortuary consultation room, and I felt a tension headache coming on. “Such a tragedy,” she sighed, dabbing at non-existent tears. “But life goes on.”
“That it does. Let me show you some options.”
As she perused the caskets, Julia’s expensive perfume with hints of lavender trailed behind her as my stomach twisted and I fought back memories. She went for the cheapest casket and didn’t order any flowers for the top.
As we were finishing up, she turned to me. “Aren’t you friends with Luna Cross? What do you know about her and Roman Fowler?”
“That they are married and seem happy,” I responded, my tone professional.
“I hear he’s a member of The Emporium,” she whispered conspiratorially, leaning in as if we were sharing secrets.
I blinked and kept my face neutral. “Would you like Ezra to conduct a short service, or do you have it covered?” Her crassness at wanting to discuss The Emporium and digging for gossip while planning her husband’s funeral made me want to slap some decorum into her.
“You think he takes her there?” she asked as she checked her lipstick in a compact mirror.
I shrugged. “Do you want any references for a headstone?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No. Randall wants to be buried next to his first wife. What do you know about Drakos Creed? A friend of my hair stylist’s brother said he saw Drakos at The Emporium one time with Roman. He said Drakos whipped a woman’s pierced nipples and vagina, then flipped her over and had anal sex with her while Roman used her mouth. Let’s just say those men's appetites are perverse .”
She looked disgusted and enthralled as she fanned herself with one of our brochures and slyly watched my face. Did this woman somehow know about Drakos and me?
Staring back at her blankly, my mind raced with visions of pierced nipples and leather floggers. Unfortunately, the black widow sitting in front of me probably still had a couple of husbands left to bury, but I decided this would be the last time the Palm Desert Oasis Mortuary assisted her with a funeral. I didn’t want her bad Karma or vicious gossip anywhere near me.
“Can you get me a list of your speakers and any music or hymns for the program?”
She looked disappointed she hadn’t drawn a response. “I’ll email it over. I still have your email from the last time. Las Vegas is such a small town in many ways.” Her eyes glinted with malicious mischief. “Everyone seems to know everyone else’s business.”
“Apparently,” I murmured.
I didn’t care what she said, but I did care about Drakos whipping some woman’s breasts and pussy, then fucking her in the ass with his long, thick cock. The scent of lemon polish mingled oddly with Julia's overpowering lavender perfume, and I felt sick to my stomach.
The headache I had been trying to fight off all day hit me full force as I finished prepping a body that afternoon. Along with my pounding temples, my heart sank as I thought about what Julia Schatzman had told me. After cleaning up, I pulled a can of coconut water out of my small fridge and downed it with two ibuprofen.
When I finally collapsed into my office chair early that evening, I knew what I had to do. Hunching over my phone, I agonized about what to text Drakos as the glow of the screen cast an eerie light. Dusk came early in the winter months here. My thumbs hovered as images of Drakos surrounded by those two women swam through my mind. Then I wondered if he’d fucked them at The Emporium, and if one of them had been the woman he’d shared with Roman.
My heart squeezed painfully as I flashed through the past week. It had been so… wonderful. I thought of the evenings spent on his rooftop garden, our late-night conversations, and his expert hands and mouth working over my body. Then I thought of those same hands on other women.
I needed to be realistic and protect my heart. Biting down on my lip, I typed out a message that would put some space between us.
Sylvie: My cousins and I can handle OutKast. Let’s call it a day and not make this complicated
The words loomed on my screen, and I sucked in a breath, hit send, then stuffed my phone in my bag and went out to talk with Milo.
“There’s been a change of plans. Look, I appreciate you watching out for me, but Fenn and Kilian have people for this kind of thing. Thank you—and tell Drakos thanks. But seriously, go home.” I patted his forearm awkwardly.
He scrutinized me. “Drakos said that you’d be going to his loft this evening, and he asked me to make sure you got there safely.”
I exhaled. “I’m not going anywhere else tonight. Thanks again, and have a good night.”
When I unlocked my door and entered, only the dark, quiet apartment welcomed me. Drakos never responded to my text, and over the next two days, I maintained the same routine. Milo came back and watched the mortuary during the day and then accompanied me to my apartment in the evening. I didn’t have the heart to run him off, and I’d started to get used to his bland, quiet company.
Fenn and I also bounced ideas around regarding dealing with OutKast, but we hadn’t come to a consensus yet. Fenn wanted death and destruction, and I wanted to avoid prison time.
On the third evening, Carl met me at the door. “Hello, little man. Are you hungry?” I picked him up and gave him cuddles he didn’t want. As I changed my clothes, a text came in on my phone. My heart jumped—like it had every time I got a text. I tried to deny my disappointment as I saw Luna’s name on my screen.
Luna: Come over for dinner tonight. I haven’t seen you in forever, and I need someone to help me annoy Roman
I didn’t want to be here alone, wallowing in my thoughts and missing Drakos, so I decided to go.
Sylvie: Sounds good
Luna: You can bring Drakos
Well, fuck. In all the drama, I’d forgotten about Roman’s threat to tell Luna. I ignored her last text.
Sylvie: What time, and what can I bring?
Luna: Nothing and seven. We’re also going to have a little chat. Roman said you’ve been LIVING WITH HIM
Sylvie: Quit texting me in all caps. It’s annoying
Luna: You are in so much trouble, LYING LIAR. And quit texting me while I’m texting you, I have to keep changing my text. See you soon
She sent me the middle finger emoji. I hadn’t known there was such an emoji. I definitely needed to use it on Fennick.
By the time I pulled into Luna’s driveway, I felt depressed and just wanted to turn around and go back home to hide under my covers and sleep. I needed the thoughts in my head and the ache in my chest to go away.
The night air was crisp, nipping playfully at my exposed skin. I reached the sanctuary of Roman and Luna's oversized front door when a shadow detached itself from the darkness. An all-too-familiar voice made me freeze.
“Are you avoiding me, Lollipop? I never thought I’d see a Spade be such a coward.”
The man could get under my skin and raise my ire like no one else. He stood there in one of his suits that made him look like a wet dream, with his smirky little smile, and those piercing eyes. I wasn't sure if it was the cold or the shock that caused a shiver to run through me.
“Jesus H Christ, what are you doing out here, lurking around like some creepy kidnapper?” I shot back, trying to ignore the frantic pounding in my chest.
He stepped closer, his scent wrapping around me like a vice. “We need to talk.”
“No, we really don’t.”
“Privately.“ His tone brokered no argument. “When we’re done eating here, you and I are going to talk. About OutKast, your safety,” he leaned in and bit my ear, “And about us. Unless you’re too scared and want to keep acting like a child.”
His taunts weren’t going to work this time. I stepped back and crossed my arms to put a barrier between us. “I’m not scared, asshole, but I’m also not a masochist. Your past keeps coming back to haunt me .”
He tilted his head. “What are you talking about?”
The door opened, and Luna gazed out at us as we squared off on her doorstep.
“Drakos, what a surprise. An unpleasant one judging by the scowl on Sylvie’s face.”
Roman walked up behind her, and she glanced back at him. “I see you meddled, which I find highly hypocritical since you recently punished me—very painfully—for not leaving well enough alone. I’ll have to take that carving knife to your expensive shoes after all.”
He smirked and reached out to absently finger the lock on her neck. “In the end, I believe you thoroughly enjoyed your punishment. Especially when you begged me to—”
She reached up and covered his mouth, her cheeks flushing red. “Behave, husband. Come in, both of you. Roman grilled pork chops and asparagus. You can argue while we eat so I can eavesdrop.”
I glanced at Drakos and loosened my shoulders. “We’re not arguing, and there’s nothing going on. It sounds delicious, and what can I help with?” I held up the bottle of wine I’d brought.
We ate in painful politeness for the next half hour, and Drakos actually took off his jacket and tie. I studied him out of the corner of my eye as I picked at my food. He’d rolled up his sleeves, and his tanned, sinewy forearms made my traitorous mouth water. Roman watched us, his lips quirking as if the tension amused him. Luna's green eyes flitted back and forth between us, and I knew a dozen questions bounced around in her head.
Drakos cut off a piece of meat and chewed. “The chicken is delicious.”
“It’s a pork chop,” I muttered.
“My mistake. I must have confused it with you.”
I set my glass down with a sigh and raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re calling me a chicken now?”
“Bock. Bock, bock, bock,” he clucked softly under his breath.
Luna coughed awkwardly, and I knew the bitch was trying to cover a laugh. Roman turned to Drakos and grinned, the wicked scar on his neck stretching with the movement. The undercurrents swirling around the table didn’t seem to faze him.
“That’s very mature,” I murmured, shaking my head. Irritation and reluctant amusement rolled through me. I needed to get away from him. When dinner concluded, I stood and started gathering dishes.
“How about decaf coffee and chocolate mousse out by the firepit?” Luna offered.
“Maybe we can have a girls’ night this weekend, but I should get going.”
As we got ready to leave, Drakos caught my arm, his grip firm but not painful. “Sylvie, we’re talking.”
Roman and Luna exchanged glances as they loaded dishes into the dishwasher. I could feel the weight of their curiosity, but I didn’t want to drag them into our shitshow.
I slowly pulled my arm away. “Alright, but not here.”
After saying goodnight, we stepped outside, where the cool night air did little to ease the heat between us. “Where did you park your vehicle?” I asked, looking around. I would have kept driving if I had noticed it in the driveway when I arrived.
“Around back. I knew if you saw it, you probably wouldn’t have stopped. Do you want to talk at your apartment or my loft?”
“Neither. There’s nothing to talk about.”
He slowly exhaled, as if looking for patience. “The mortuary or the loft?” he ground out.
“Mortuary. I’ll meet you there,” I snapped, turning my back to him and getting in my car.
We pulled up to my apartment behind the mortuary, and he silently followed me up the stairs. I noticed Alexa’s car wasn’t there again, and I didn’t know if I was relieved or disappointed not to have her there as a buffer.
Drakos didn’t waste any time. He took my hand and dragged me to my bedroom, then shut the door and leaned against it. “Three days ago, I had my cock deep in your pussy, and you were begging me to let you come. Then on Sunday, things went to shit. I know it wasn’t just those acquaintances who came to see me. What happened?”
My eyes narrowed and I folded my arms. Two acquaintances ? “The bet ended, Drakos.”
“Fuck the bet. Talk to me and quit running scared.”
My temper exploded and I threw up my hands. “Fine, I’ll talk to you. Those two women standing outside your loft looked like two high-class hookers out for a little Sunday afternoon orgy,” I accused. “Then, on Monday morning, Julia fucking Schatzman met with me to bury husband number three, and, being the bitchiest gossip in Las Vegas, decided it would be nice for me to know about some of your more salacious exploits at The Emporium.”
“You’re listening to gossip again.” He folded his arms.
“Goddamn you, I don’t ask people to tell me about it. But trust me, they’re more than happy to volunteer. And I saw those women at your door, so it’s a little more than gossip, isn’t it? Are you denying it?” I demanded, feeling the anger and hurt blister my insides.
He pushed away from the door, closing the distance between us. "No, I'm not. But that's not who I am anymore. Bella came into town with her friend and wanted to surprise me. She’s an old hookup, and I haven’t seen her in over two years, so I disabused her of ever doing that again.”
Jealousy slithered through me at the way he casually used the woman’s name. “It’s easy for you to say that’s not who you are anymore, but what happens when you get bored? When you want more variety or decide to go back to The Emporium?”
He shook his head. “You’re so fucking different and so much more than any woman I’ve ever known. We belong together, and I would never be unfaithful or cheat on you. Your lunatic cousins would also skin me alive if I did anything that stupid. Which I would deserve.”
I didn’t want to be this vulnerable in front of him, but I was sick of feeling so… sad and broken. “I’m not into games or emotional masochism.”
His hands framed my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I'm not playing games with you. This... whatever it is between us, it's real.”
His words seeped through my defenses, and I leaned into him. “I’m not a coward or a chicken, you juvenile asshole.”
His lips twisted sideways, and I knew he was trying not to smile. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and drew me in. “I know you’re not. I was there at Titties, remember?”
"Fine, let's say I believe you.” My voice held heavy skepticism and the faintest hint of hope. “What now? You're going to magically become monogamous and sweet, and you won’t frequent erotic clubs anymore?”
The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, we’ll be monogamous, and I can also be sweet when the need arises, God help me. And if you want to frequent a sex club and get into BDSM and submission, I’ll go with you and show you the ropes.”
My eyebrow lifted. “Did you just make a bondage joke?”
“Maybe. Speaking of ropes, have you ever been tied up, teased, and fucked by someone who knows what they’re doing?” His blue eyes locked onto mine.
Lust swirled through me as I processed his words, but before I could respond, the shrill sound of a security alarm sliced through the apartment.
“Damn it.” I fumbled for my phone in my back pocket and pulled up the camera app showing live footage from the exterior cameras outside the mortuary. Four motorcycles were rolling up to the circular drive in front of the funeral home, triggering the alarms and motion sensor cameras. Their motorcycle engines growled loud enough that I could hear them from inside the apartment.
“Looks like we have company,” Drakos observed, peering over my shoulder at the screen. He didn’t seem phased, but apprehension shot through me.
“Fuck. I knew this was going to happen. See if you can figure out what kind of weapons they have.” Handing him my phone, I squatted down and quickly rolled out the large, flat weapons safe hidden beneath my bed. My fingers flew through the combination, and when I lifted the lid, Drakos let out a low whistle.
“I must be a sick fucker because I just went rock hard. It looks like you’re ready for quite the party.” Dark amusement laced his voice.
“Party might be the wrong word. I think this is going to be more like a rager.” I selected two pistols and deftly armed them, then checked the chambers to ensure both were properly loaded before sliding them into the back of my jeans. I picked up the modified drone Callum had made for me a few weeks ago and turned it on. My hands didn't tremble. They were as steady as death—a trait that was useful in my profession.
“May I?" He nodded to the safe and started helping himself before I could respond.
“Only if you promise not to shoot your foot off,” I muttered, picking up the drone remote.
Drakos grunted and armed the gun, then quickly checked it over with a level of familiarity that eased my shoulders.
“Motherfuckers.” He brought my phone closer to his face. “One man has a semi-assault rifle, and another looks like he’s holding Molotov cocktails.”
It seemed the MC president wanted to play with the House of Spades after all. I turned and sprinted for the door.