3. 3 – Chess
3 – Chess
G laring at Martin, I point to the phone. “Call her again.”
Unfazed, he meets my irritation without flinching. “I’ve tried Miss Lidell several times. As have you. And as you know, I’m not permitted to allow anyone into the penthouse without permission.”
Gritting my teeth, I grip the counter. “You know that’s bullshit. I had access yesterday .”
“And today you do not.” He smiles politely, but he doesn’t fucking budge. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
Eyeing him, I turn away, lifting my phone to my ear again.
Fucking voicemail.
Again.
“ Lyssa ,” I hiss her name, aware of the bat ears behind me undoubtedly listening in. “You and I both know I’ll be coming up there one way or another, so call off your little guard dog and reinstate my damn access. You’ve got ten minutes.”
Martin swallows as I swing back to him. Glowering, I back up and lean against the wall, crossing my arms. “She’ll be calling down any minute.”
And then I’m going to spank her ass for being such a damn brat.
I’m about ready to scale the outside of the fucking building when Martin’s phone starts to ring, nine minutes and forty-five seconds later. We both glance at it, then each other.
“Well?” I force out through clenched teeth.
He purses his lips as he picks it up. “Of course, Miss Lidell. Right away.”
Martin presses the button beneath his desk, the elevator doors opening as he offers me a sunny smile. “Go on up. I’ll reconfigure your keycard.”
Dick.
My irritation only grows as I stalk into the empty penthouse. “Lyss? Lyssa!”
Silence. And then a rustle from her bedroom. “Give me a damn fucking minute , Chess. Put some coffee on.”
My eyes narrow. “It’s almost midday. Why the fuck are you still—,”
My eyes catch something on the floor by the window, and I walk over to pick it up. And then… my heart stops, as I take in the marks on the glass in front of me.
Marks that look suspiciously like fucking handprints .
The card is sitting on the white counter when Alyss eventually strolls out. Her hair is loose and tousled around her face, the robe not hiding the fact that she’s wearing nothing underneath it.
Settling on one of her tall stools, she drags the steaming cup of coffee closer and breathes it in, her eyes closing. “I needed this.”
“Long night?”
Her eyes open at my caustic tone. “That’s none of your business, Chess.”
Like hell it isn’t. I don’t say anything as I lean against the opposite counter, watching her closely. She spots the card, leans forward. “What’s this?”
She scans it.
And her whole body freezes. Alyss looks up at me with eyes of pure ice, her tone cooling. “Where did you get this?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I hold her stare. “I found it next to your window. Right next to the handprints on the glass.”
Color flares on her cheeks. “This isn’t funny, Chess. You know I’ve been looking—,”
“I’ve been looking.” I stalk forward. “ You’ve been hiding here.”
Leaning forward, I snatch the card from her shaking fingers.
Alyss slides off her stool, storming around the counter to me. Her finger rises to jab into my chest. “You have no fucking right—.”
She jerks as my hands rise, one still holding the card, to grab her face and tilt it to the side. “The fuck, Chess?”
But I’m staring at the marks on her skin. Her pale neck is riddled with them, deep red marks and edges that look suspiciously like teeth . “Tell me who.”
She tries to dodge away, then, but I hold her. Anger is a hot flush curling in my chest, tightening, squeezing. “Tell me who, Alyss. Right the fuck now.”
She can do what she wants. Who she wants, even if it feels like a fucking knife in my chest.
Alyss Lidell has made me no promises, even if I promised her a lifetime years ago.
But if someone hurt her, all bets are fucking off.
Her leg kicks up, but I dodge it. Alyss slams her head forward, and my hands drop from her with a curse as she backs away.
I gesture to her neck while gripping the bridge of my nose. “Your damn neck looks like someone took a grater to it, Lyss. So tell me, or I’m going to start fucking yelling .”
“You’re already yelling.” She crosses her arms. “It was a one-night thing. That’s all.”
But her cheeks are scarlet, something flickering in her eyes that makes my heart still. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is hoarse. “Give me the card, Chess.”
I stare down at it, crumpled and forgotten in my hand.
Wonder.
And an address.
She’s breathing faster now. “You know . You know how long I’ve been searching for that place.”
My own eyes narrow. “How lucky that it just fell into your lap, then. Who was here?”
“It doesn’t matter. Give me the fucking card!”
My fingers close around it. She reads the stoniness on my face, the refusal, and her own expression twists in sudden anger. “You can’t fucking do this. You answer to me , in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Wrong.” I make my way to her and she backs up. Her robe swirls around us as Lyssa hits the wall and I cage her in.
Leaning down, I murmur the words. “I did answer to you. But since you’re refusing to take up the role, I don’t have to do a single damn thing you tell me.”
She’s breathing heavily. “I fucking hate you.”
My eyes skitter over those marks again, my throat tightening. I focus on her, on Lyssa, watching her pupils dilate. “No you don’t, Lyss. He might have fucked you against that window, but I bet that if I slid my finger into your pussy right now, you’d be soaking wet for me .”
I push into her, enough that she can feel the hard ridge of my cock. Alyss tips her face up, enough that our lips nearly touch, her robe slipping open.
Every part of my body is hot with anger and want.
I want to wipe away every bit of whoever the bastard was that she chose over me last night. Want to remind her that whatever lie she tells herself to sleep at night, she’s mine .
Lyssa cries out as my finger thrusts into her. I bet on her being wet for me and I was fucking right , two fingers easily pushing into her as she climbs onto her tiptoes, trying to escape even as her hips buck.
She freezes when my hand wraps around her throat. I’m gentle, so fucking gentle, mindful of those marks on her neck, but I don’t let her move as I whisper into her ear. “See? Mine .”
Her breath stutters. “Maybe it’s for him and not you.”
Our eyes meet. There’s challenge there, a dare, even as her pussy soaks my fingers.
Alyss Lidell wants me. Once, she even loved me.
But she stopped admitting it six months ago.
This sharp-edged back and forth, this anger-filled space is the only way she’ll let me near her now. As if she can’t admit to herself that she might still want me.
Every single time is a fucking battle.
“Tell me to walk away,” I breathe, studying her face. It’s a plea. “Tell me to leave, Alyss. Tell me you don’t fucking want me, that you don’t love me anymore, and I’ll leave right now. I’ll go today and find a new club. You’ll never have to see me again.”
Maybe she can come home, if I’m no longer part of it.
Maybe I’m the problem.
But even as I say it, I know it’s cruel. Cruel to push her buttons when I know her as well as I do. Cruel to threaten her with my absence, to hold my presence over her head when her entire damn life is a void, left by those who didn’t – couldn’t - stay.
I know , and as her face pales, her lips parting, I feel like utter shit for it.
“Chess—,”
She cries out as I lean forward and toss her over my shoulder. Fists smack into my back as I carry her across the penthouse, giving her a second to slip back into her hatred, to push aside the panic and the grief I saw in her face.
I’m never going to leave her.
And having her hatred is better than having nothing of her at all.
Lyssa gasps when I put her down, spinning her until she’s facing the window. We’re both breathing heavily as I rip the robe away from her, baring her. My eyes run over her body, searching. I’m mapping each and every mark that doesn’t belong, her skin more familiar to me than my own.
There are a lot of marks.
She balks, her hands moving up to cover herself, but I wrap my hands around her wrists and push them onto the glass.
Right over the prints she left last night, with someone who wasn’t me .
“Don’t be shy now, baby. You’re very fucking familiar with this pose, apparently .”