Chapter 23 Griffin
Griffin
I don’t want to leave, but one look at Dominic’s face tells me that staying is only going to make things worse.
“I’m sorry, man, but I love her. I’ve always loved her.
I’ve tried my hardest to stay away from her—for her sake, for your sake, fuck, for my sake—but I can’t do it anymore. I love her too much.”
“She’s who’s been fucking with your head?” He points toward Penny’s bedroom door, then at me. “Who you’re not worth?”
I dip my chin, agreeing, because tonight has made that abundantly clear to us both.
“Then be better for her. Fucking be better,” he tells me harshly, making it sound so damn easy. “Start by fixing this mess so she’s safe.”
It’s as much of a blessing as I’m going to get from him. It might also be a one-way ticket to my own ruin—which could be what he’s hoping for—but if there’s even the smallest chance that I can fix this, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for Penny, and he knows it.
I leave, my decision already made. Johnny K hasn’t gotten back to me with any new information about the thief or the ring, and I can’t wait around any longer hoping he will. I have to go directly to the root of the problem.
The hostess at the stand inside Aqua Est Vita is a hockey fan. Or at the least, a Griffin Mahoney fan, because she doesn’t even flinch at my obviously not-to-dress-code sweats, Hawks T-shirt, and tennis shoes. Or my face that still looks like pulped hamburger.
“Griffin Mahoney! Oh my God, how can I help you?” she gushes.
I look past her, scanning the tables inside the restaurant, looking for one man.
If he’s not here, I don’t know where I’ll go next.
His residence is unlisted, likely one of dozens of properties he owns in the city, and his office is the same, possibly anywhere or simply wherever he and his laptop may be.
But this restaurant is his haven. That’s a known fact.
I don’t see Miles Conniver himself, but I see a man in all black standing guard near a table in the back. That’s got to be his security, which means . . . he’s here. Thank fuck.
I want to charge into the depths of the restaurant, slide into the chair across from Conniver, and demand he call off his dogs. But that’ll end up one way—with me thrown out the back of the restaurant, and then probably off the closest dock.
So I play it smart. One step at a time, with the first being getting closer to Conniver.
I lean down, keeping my voice between me and the hostess. One glance at her brass name tag tells me her name. “Amelia, I need one minute of Mr. Conniver’s time.”
Her smile all but evaporates. “Do you have an appointment with him?” she clips out crisply.
I flash the cocky smirk that’s led to many an opponent calling me a bastard. “I have something to discuss that he will be very interested in.”
Looking uncertain, she glances over her shoulder. “Oh, um, well . . . he doesn’t see people without an appointment.”
“Just ask him. Please.” I could spill the whole thing to Amelia and see if her relaying the information to Conniver would get me an audience with him, but I think dangling an enticing carrot has a better chance. “Tell him it involves a diamond ring. A very special diamond ring.”
Amelia’s eyes widen, and though she still seems doubtful, she holds up a finger, telling me to wait one moment, and hurries toward Conniver’s table. I watch as she bends down, whispering to a man whose face I can’t see. He says something back to her, and she nods.
As she comes back, it takes every bit of willpower I possess to root myself to the floor and not cut the distance in half. Because her answer doesn’t matter. If he said yes, that’s where I’m headed. And if he said no? I won’t listen and that’s still where I’m headed.
“He said you have one minute,” she informs me, waving for me to follow her.
As she leads me to Conniver, she informs me, “To be up front, I don’t think it’s because of any ring.
You cost him a lot of money by getting kicked out of the game tonight.
He had a personal wager riding on that game, I’m certain. So be careful.”
I appreciate the warning and give her a tight nod, thanking her.
Five seconds later, I’m standing in front of the most dangerous man in the city.
The one his own people fear. And I’m doing it voluntarily, serving myself on a silver platter like I have a death wish.
But if it’ll save Penny, I will gladly make that sacrifice.
His crisp white shirt is open at the neck to show a gold chain that matches the rhinestone-encrusted watch on his wrist. Or hell, maybe those are diamonds too.
His hair is perfectly coiffed, and there’s an air of ostentatious largesse surrounding him—thank you, long bus rides in the minor leagues, where I had to read books to fill the fucking time.
But his expression seems bland enough, thankfully not openly furious over whatever bet he lost.
“Mr. Conniver, thank you for seeing me.” I’m not sucking his dick, but manners seem appropriate. He gestures to the seat across from him, and I sit down, mindful of the security guard standing just to the side.
“Mr. Mahoney, I understand you would like to discuss a ring. I, however, would like to know what happened on the ice tonight. And if I can expect it to happen again?” He arches a sharp brow, blatantly asking for insider information to shape his gambling on the Hawks’ next game.
“If you’ll give me a bit of leeway, I think you’ll see that the ring and tonight’s game are interwoven.”
Judging by the way his eyes flare in surprise, it’s not the answer he expected. I also don’t think he’s surprised often, because he seems quite intrigued. “Do tell.”
“About two weeks ago, I was downtown when I ran into Dominic Lee’s sister.
” Conniver’s lips purse, and though I suspect he already has several new questions, he stays silent, letting me speak.
“She’s an amazing custom jewelry designer that works primarily on heritage pieces, and she’d just bought a new ring.
Unfortunately, it was stolen right out of my hands by a mugger on the sidewalk. ”
“That is unfortunate.” It’s lip service at best, and as he takes a sip of his liquor, his eyes drift away like I’m boring him.
He thinks he’s got it all figured out. Tonight’s fight with Dom was because I let his sister’s ring get stolen, end of story. But that’s not even the CliffsNotes version of what’s happened.
“The ring was a five-karat diamond, surrounded by baguettes, in bezel-set gold. And it shouldn’t have been at the antique store Penny bought it from, according to the two guys who were there, desperately searching for it.
” I level him with a hard look. “The two guys who have been messaging her, following her, stalking her, and that showed up at the game tonight looking for her because they think she still has the ring. The ring they want to find before their boss realizes it’s missing. ”
Conniver’s face has gone perfectly blank, his eyes cold. It’s eerie, like he simply turned off his emotions. They’re shark’s eyes, a predator ready for the kill possibly. “This ring, do you have a picture of it?”
I move to reach into my pocket for my phone, but the guard instantly steps forward, grabbing my bicep. I glance up at him, slowing my movement and showing him that it’s just my phone, not a weapon. Cleared, I cut my eyes to Conniver, who shrugs. “He’s my defense. I’m sure you understand that.”
I do. I understand defending a goal. But not a man. Especially not a man most people need defending from.
Not commenting on that, I find the picture of the ring on Penny’s hand and turn my phone around to show Conniver the screen. He barely glances at it before his eyes lift to mine. “Where did you say she bought this?” The question is sharp, his tone accusatory.
“Yesteryear Antiques. I don’t think anyone there knew the ring’s history. Or owner.” I lift a brow in question, wanting to confirm that I’m right and the ring is his.
“It was my mother’s.” He looks at the photo again, this time his gaze longer and considerably warmer. “You said it was stolen?”
“Yes, we talked to several pawnshops, and a few fences, trying to find it. The mugger was a young guy with freckles, wearing a red hoodie. Johnny K said he might know the guy.” I don’t bother explaining who Johnny K is, figuring he probably already knows or can find out.
“But my concern is the guys following Penny. They’ve tried to get her home address, and they were obviously looking for her at the game tonight.
That’s why I had to get her out of there.
Which made Dominic realize that something’s going on between us before we were ready to share that with him. ”
“Hence the fight,” Conniver summarizes. He sighs, his finger tracing the rim of his glass. “These guys, what do they look like?”
I cut my eyes to the security guy standing beside the table. “Like him. Big, tough. One of them is named Tommy, I think.”
“Thomas and Mark,” he says instantly.
The names don’t really help me, though they do confirm that I’ve been right this whole time. The ring? Conniver’s. The muscle? Conniver’s. Penny? In danger.
“I just want them to leave Penny alone. I’m really sorry about your ring, and if Johnny K finds out anything, I’ll let you know. But Penny has nothing to do with this. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and bought a ring she thought was beautiful that she was excited to redesign.”
“She was going to redesign the ring?” he snaps.
That’s not the important part, not at all, but I have to play nice to some small degree. “You can look her up—PLDesigns. She repurposes old jewelry, like heritage stuff. Turns them into modern pieces of wearable art. But what about the guys? You’ll call them off?”
I frame it like a question, a request, tailored to a man like Conniver.
But it’s most definitely a command, and he knows it.
He stares at me for a long moment, his face expressionless, and I’m almost certain I’ve signed my own death certificate, but then he slowly turns to the security guard.
“Tell Thomas and Mark that I’d like to see them first thing in the morning at my office.
” The guard nods, silently acknowledging the order.
Conniver turns back to me, his tight smile still making him look like a shark.
“It’s handled. Miss Lee won’t come to any harm. ”
That easy? I mean, sitting across from this guy isn’t easy despite the fancy restaurant. “Just like that?”
The corners of his lips lift into what might be considered a smile but feels more like a threat. “Is there anything else, Mr. Mahoney?”
“No. I guess not. I just want Penny to be safe.”
“And she will be,” he says with a wave of his hand as though he’s a magician that can simply make it so. And I guess, despite the lack of a top hat and wand, he is.
“Um, well . . . thank you.”
I go to stand but freeze halfway when he adds, “I trust there won’t be any further issues on the ice between you and Mr. Lee during the playoffs?”
There will definitely be issues between me and Dominic. Lots of them. But on the ice, we’ll keep our shit together. We’re solid players, and we want that Cup, for ourselves and for the Hawks. And for the city.
I nod. “No problems.”
“Good.” He manages to make the single word sound like if you know what’s good for you, you won’t fuck up my gambling, or I’ll be forced to take my losses out on you.
Just like that, I walk away from the table, feeling the security guard’s gaze follow me and all too aware that I just sat with the closest thing to the Grim Reaper that I hope to ever meet.
It was surprisingly uneventful, at least on the surface, but I would hate to be Tommy and Mark tomorrow morning.
Up front, Amelia smiles as she holds out a napkin. “Can you sign this for me?”
“Sure.” I take the marker she holds out and scribble my name. When I glance back up, she’s holding her phone up, already leaning into me to pose for a picture. I fake a smile, and she clicks the button on the screen.
“What’s your number? I’ll send it to you,” she purrs, her gaze slowly dripping over my face, down to my chest, and lower. I know I look like hell, bruised and swollen with dried blood on my shirt, but she makes it seem like I’m dressed to the nines and looking my best.
“Thanks, but I’m good,” I tell her gently but firmly.
I’m not good. I haven’t been good in a long time, maybe ever. But I’m not looking for a quick fuck with a hostess. I want Penny, only Penny.
She gives me a shrewd look. “Lucky girl.”
But I shake my head, correcting her gently. “I’m the lucky one.”
I hope that’s true, and that, in keeping this secret from her, I haven’t fucked up everything beyond repair.