21. Denver
Chapter 21
Denver
“ S taff room, stock room, VIP lounge… office is up there.” Harley points at a room at the back of Pulse, seemingly suspended in the air, the front wall made up of glass. It likely has a perfect view of the club. “Security cameras are in there, the safe, too.”
“And it’s glass?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Bulletproof glass,” she adds. “We learned that the hard way.”
I follow Harley through the club to a door that leads us into a black-painted back room. A set of metal steps leads to the office. She swipes a keycard to open the office door and, when it closes behind us both, uses a separate key to open a second door. The space is big, with a desk and two couches, and the view over the club is impressive.
I’ve been home a week, and every night, I’ve been in Ranger’s bed. We haven’t slept together, but the proximity is making it difficult, so I decided this morning that I should visit the club I now own. Maybe it’ll help calm the guilt churning in my stomach.
It’s an uncomfortable first meeting between the manager and me. We’re around the same age, but while I spent most of my twenties working my way through the shopping district of San Francisco, Harley had been running Pulse. She’s been here since it opened, and the staff respect her, but now I’ve been given a senior role with no experience and no desire to even be here.
“The office is soundproof,” Harley says. “I can give you the safe codes, computer passwords…”
“Don’t bother,” I say. “Is there a security camera in here?”
Harley considers me for a moment. “No.”
I lean against the desk. “Good. I’m gonna be honest with you, and I want you to be honest with me. Forget my name for the next five minutes, okay?”
Harley eyes me quietly. “Okay.”
“I’m not going to run this place. We’re just going to make it look like I am. What’s your salary?”
Harley hesitates but seems to relax a little. “Eighty.”
“What’s mine?”
“Two hundred.”
My mouth drops open. “Two hundred thousand dollars? But I won’t be doing anything? I’m basically just a poster girl.”
Harley shrugs, clearly agreeing.
“Ranger is such an asshole. We’re switching salaries. You get mine, I’ll get yours, and you do whatever you’ve been doing. I’ll talk to the accountant. He’ll arrange everything,” I say. “Sound good?”
Harley stares at me. “What’s the catch?”
“Well, I’m asking you to lie to Ranger Luxe. That’s a hell of a catch, isn’t it?”
“I won’t lie to him,” she says. “I like my spine where it is.”
That’s fair.
“Okay, fine. He asks anything, then tell him that I said he’d okayed it. Lord knows he loves an excuse to scream at me.” I slap my hands together. “Drink?”
We return downstairs and sit at the bar. A beer and thirty minutes later, we’re both more relaxed.
Harley is a single mom from Arizona who moved to San Francisco for school and unexpectedly fell pregnant. The dad split, so she dropped out of school and worked in bars to get by. When Pulse opened, she lied like hell on her résumé to get the manager position.
Harley finishes her beer, eyeing me in a friendlier way than she had during our first hour together. “You’re not how I expected you to be.”
“Did you think I’d be toting a gun and the missing wedding ring?” I ask, swigging my drink.
“Kinda,” Harley says, and I at least appreciate the honesty. “I am sorry about your husband. I liked him.”
I swallow my surprise with another mouthful of beer. It tastes far more bitter than a minute ago. “He came here?”
Harley pauses. “Yeah, a lot. I thought that was why you wanted the place.”
Darkness, etched with pointless jealousy, curls around my stomach and tugs so tight the beer in my gut turns acidic. I’m still discovering things about a husband I thought I knew. He told me he’d visit bars occasionally, but he’d never mentioned Pulse.
“There were a lot of things I didn’t know about Wyatt, apparently,” I say.
Harley watches me, then raises her drink. “To men sucking.”
I tap my bottle against hers. “To men sucking.”
I finish my drink and hop down from the stool. “I should go. These beers are on you. I just gave you one hell of a pay rise.”
Harley grins. “I’ll be drinking in your honor tonight, too.”
I head outside, smiling, glad I visited Pulse after all. I can maintain the illusion to Ranger that I’m on board with his plan for my life while continuing to do fuck all. It’s a small defiance to get me through the day.
Or I can leave.
The thought has occurred to me numerous times since returning home. To escape San Francisco forever, pull myself from the clutches of darkness, and find myself somewhere bathed in fucking sunlight.
Where? I have no clue. But I know I want somewhere near water, somewhere with salty air and warm breezes. Wesson could swim in the sea, I could stock up on sunscreen, and we could be happy. I could open a coffee shop, have neighbors and friends, and not worry about guns or drugs or people taking photos.
But wouldn’t I always have to look over my shoulder? Ranger would never give up. He’d work his way through any person I cared for until?—
The click of my heels across the open parking lot halts when I spot a man leaning against my car.
“Detective Hayes,” I say. “Did you need something? A ride? Ten bucks?”
“How about a confession? I could clock off early, go home, relax…” he says as I approach. “Do me a favor and lay the truth on me.”
I take my keys from my purse. “The biggest favor I could do for you would be to take you shopping. Don’t you have another suit?” I tug on his burgundy tie. “I bet you’ve got a sexy body under all that polyester.”
He leans his shoulder against the driver’s side door, still grinning at me, and I sigh.
“Can you move?” I say. “I have places to be.”
“You own Pulse now?” he asks, nodding at the building.
“Why? Do you want to take me for a drink?”
“Still on that, are we?”
I bite my lip. “You could be on me if you like.”
He laughs. “Is that your only play? You’re not that hot, sweetheart.”
“Then why are you looking at me like you want to fuck me?”
He isn’t. Not at all. But now that I’ve said it, he’ll picture it, even if it’s just for a second. And that’s a seed I want to plant in his annoying little head.
“Wow,” he says. “That really is the only card in your deck, isn’t it?”
“Oh, you have no idea what I have in my deck,” I say, curling my tongue around the final word. “I have an idea. Why don’t we make a little deal?”
I lean my shoulder on the car to face him, making sure I’m uncomfortably close. It’s clear that seduction won’t work with Hayes; he’s decided who I am, and no amount of flirting will change that. That’s fine. It just means I no longer have to hold back. I don’t have to ease myself into his bed; I can go full throttle, and it will either work or throw him off kilter.
Regardless, it’ll be fun.
“I’ll confess,” I say, wrapping his tie around my hand, keeping my eyes locked on his. “But…”
He looks unimpressed, almost bored. “But?”
I pull him close. “You have to fuck it out of me.”
“This is old,” he whispers.
“But it’d be fun.” I pout. “I bet you’ve thought about it. Bending me over, kicking my feet apart, holding me down, and making me say the words.” I bite my bottom lip. “Oh, Holden, I’ve been such a bad, bad girl.” I pull him closer. “Do bad things to me.” He grips my wrist and pins me against the car, eyes flaring with rage, and I smile. “I like it rough. Get your cuffs out. I enjoy the feel of cold steel against hot skin.” I snap my teeth, and he pushes himself away from me.
“I don’t need to fuck you to make you confess, Denver. You’ll have made a mistake. And I will find out what that mistake is, and then you’re going away for a long time.”
He walks away, and I wave at his back.
“No goodbye kiss?” I call out after him. “Asshole.”
I climb into the car, and my phone rings. I frown as I answer. “When did you change your name in my contacts?”
Ranger chuckles softly. “What? You don’t like it?”
“You being saved under ‘My Husband’? Not particularly.”
He hums. “It’s best to get used to it, Wife. What did Hayes want?”
“How did—” I lean over the passenger seat to peer up at the security camera outside the rear entrance of Pulse. I give it the finger, and Ranger laughs. “Hayes was just being his usual charming self.” I start the engine. “Was there something else you needed, Grim? Or did you just want to show off your stalking skills?”
“You’re okay?”
I grip the steering wheel, his concern warming me. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Drive safe.”
I scoff, as if safety is the last thing I’m capable of experiencing, then pause. “Wait, what am I saved in your phone as? ‘My Wife’?”
Ranger’s laugh is soft. “No. You’re ‘My Love.’ Always have been, always will be.”