Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Iwake up. Alone, in a bed that’s not mine.
It’s not the first time, but it has been a while since I’ve done this.
I listen for sounds of life throughout the apartment.
When I don’t hear anything, I relax. I don’t have to do the whole morning-after chat.
I should, however, get out of here before Sammie comes back from wherever he went.
I peel myself off the bed and search the floor for my clothes.
Finding everything but my bra and panties, I slide my pants on and look at the top.
There’s no way I’m putting this on without a bra.
I know I shouldn’t, but I do it anyway. I walk into Sammie’s closet and help myself to one of his hoodies.
I slide the material over my head and I’m instantly drowned in his scent.
Then I pick up my bag and slip my feet into my shoes.
The moment I step out onto the street, I breathe a sigh of relief. I got out of the casino without being seen. Without having to have the awkward “thanks for orgasms, I’ll see you around” chat. I don’t have any expectations from a man like Sammie Russo.
I’m almost to my apartment when my phone rings, and I see that it’s his name on the screen. I flick the green button across. “Hello.”
“Good morning.” His deep voice runs through me. Jesus, it’s like he has access to my horny switch and he’s constantly pressing it on.
“Morning,” I say, trying to sound cheery. I’m really not much of a morning person, and I haven’t had coffee yet.
“Did something happen?” he asks me.
“Um, no, why?”
“You left,” he says. “I came back to my room, expecting you to still be naked under the blankets, and my bed was empty.”
“I just have things to do. At home.” I don’t know what he wants from me. Well, other than to have access to my naked body, it seems.
“Lailani?”
“Yeah?”
“If this is you trying to ditch me after one night, I’m not that easy to shake,” Sammie tells me. “I’ll see you tonight.” With that, he cuts the call.
He’s not that easy to shake. What the hell does that mean? And do I even want to shake him? I don’t think so. Well, not yet anyway.
The minute I walk into my apartment, I get that sense that someone else is in here, so I reach into my bag and pull out the small knife I keep there.
I then dump my bag onto the hall table and slide the drawer open, retrieving my pistol.
I slip the knife into my pocket and walk farther into the entryway with my gun raised, only to stop dead in my tracks as soon as I cross into the living room.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I ask while lowering the gun.
Emmanuel makes a point to look at his watch and then back up at me. “Busy night?” He lifts a curious brow.
“Yes,” I snap and head straight for my kitchen, which is right next to the living room. I can still see him when I turn on the coffee machine. “If you’re going to help yourself into my apartment, the least you could do is get the coffee ready.”
“Where were you?” he asks, instead of answering me.
“That’s none of your business.” I really do not have the energy to deal with him right now.
“I was about to send out a search party,” Emmanuel says, clearly unfazed by my bitchy tone.
I turn around and stare at him. “Why?”
“Because you weren’t here, and it’s very unlike you to have sleepovers.”
He’s not wrong. I don’t usually fall asleep next to people. “How do you even know that?”
“I make it my business to know everything about my friends, Lailani,” he tells me.
“Right. Then you already know where I was last night.” I return my attention to the coffee machine, sliding a cup onto the drip pan and pressing the button. Once I fill one cup, I fill another before walking back over to the sofa and handing the second mug to my unwanted houseguest.
“If I hadn’t, the fact that you walked in wearing one of his hoodies would have given it away,” Emmanuel says.
“So, is there a reason for this visit?” I question while sipping at my coffee.
“There’s a woman,” he says. “I want you to keep an eye on her.”
“Who?”
“Evie. She’s one of Charlotte’s friends,” Emmanuel explains.
I’ve seen her. She’s only just arrived to town. “What she do?”
“Nothing,” he says. “I want her protected at any cost. You get me?”
Interesting. The big, scary cartel boss wants this woman safe. No matter what it takes.
“I get you.” I nod. “But are you going to tell me why?”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re shacking up with Sammie?”
“He has a really nice dick.” I smirk.
“And I wish I hadn’t asked,” Emmanuel groans.
“So, Evie, huh? Are you going soft, E?”
“No. And don’t mention this to anyone,” he says.
“I won’t.” I bring the cup to my mouth again. “Just out of curiosity, how much longer is this job going to have me in Vegas?”
“I have no idea. Why? You getting bored?”
“A little.” I shrug.
“So play with your new friend more. I’m sure he won’t complain,” Emmanuel tells me.
“He likes someone who doesn’t exist. He doesn’t even know me.” I know the minute Sammie finds out who I really am, he’s going to lose interest. He likes the innocence that doesn’t exist in my everyday life.
“Lailani, have fun. But not too much fun. I need you to be focused on the job.”
“Are you looking for dirt on your friends?” I ask.
“No, should I be?”
“Nope, just trying to figure out what it is you’re worried about here,” I say.
“I told you. Someone is making moves. I want to make sure I stay on top of that. Remember, while she’s in town, Evie’s safety is number-one priority.”
“I can’t just follow her around.”
“No, but you can tell me when she comes and goes from the Royal. And after she leaves, I want to know when she returns,” he says.
“Okay.” I nod again.
Emmanuel stands from the sofa. “Thank you. Make sure that whatever this thing is between you and Sammie, it doesn’t interfere with the job.”
I scoff. “I’m not going to do something stupid like fall in love with the guy.”
“You might not, but he sure as fuck will,” Emmanuel grunts.
“Until he knows who I really am. Once he finds out I’ve been lying to him all these months, do you really think he’ll want me around?”
“Yes,” Emmanuel answers without hesitating. “Because love makes people do dumb shit. Shit they shouldn’t do.” Then he turns around and walks out of my apartment.
Well, I don’t plan on ever falling in love.
I’ve seen what that did to my dad. When my mom was killed, my father became a different person.
It was as if her killer took both my parents.
In a way, I guess he did. I was ten years old when I lost my mother.
The first thing my father did was put a gun in my hand.
It’s because of her death that I am who I am today.
My father made sure I had the skills to be on the right side of the barrel. The living, breathing side.
Thinking of my dad makes me nostalgic. I miss him. It’s been a year since I’ve seen him. I spoke to him a few months ago. We have a very casual relationship. He knows what I do for a living, and he doesn’t exactly approve. Even though he’s the one who pushed me in this direction in the first place.
The thought of picking up the phone and calling him crosses my mind. I quickly dispel the idea. Instead, I head for my bathroom. I need to shower and then I plan on finding out everything I can about the girl who has Emmanuel’s panties all twisted in a bunch.
After thirty minutes of digging online, I don’t come up with much about Charlotte’s friend.
What I did find is that she owns a little boutique in the small southern town where she resides.
I can’t find anything to suggest she’s been in any relationships.
There are no mentions of any siblings and the only parent listed on her birth certificate is her mother.
She’s active on social media, but most of her posts are of the dresses in her store or her with her friends. Whoever she is, I don’t envy her having gained the attention of a madman.
As if on cue, the doorbell rings. I stand, close my laptop, and walk over to the door, opening it when I notice a delivery man on the other side.
“Pizza for Ms. Miller,” he says, handing me a box.
“Um, I didn’t order that,” I tell him.
“It’s a gift, from Mr. Russo,” the guy explains.
“Ah, thank you. Hold on, let me get you a tip.” I set the pizza box down on my hall table and go to reach for my bag.
“No need. It’s all sorted. Have a good day, Miss,” the guy says and then disappears back down the hall. I watch him for a moment before closing the door behind me.
I open the lid of the pizza and find my favorite. Chicken and veggies. The thought that Evie isn’t the only one who’s attracted the attention of a madman makes me laugh.
Just how closely is Sammie watching me? I’ve never told him how I like my pizza, so how did he know?