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.
Chapter 24
Penny
I promised Dominic I would stay in my apartment with the door locked and not answer it for any reason. Not even the DoorDashed brunch I whined about wanting this morning. But seriously, after a night like last night, a girl deserves some eggs Benedict with an extra side of hollandaise sauce and a freaking mimosa. My brother, who will henceforth be known as the taste-bud-hater, disagreed vehemently, going so far as threatening to tie me to a dining room chair if that’s what it took to keep me safely locked up. He probably wouldn’t actually do it, but I didn’t feel like testing him today. Still, my promise was definitely made under duress, and even then, he didn’t want to leave me.
But duty calls. Duty, which also goes by the name Coach Leverson, head coach of the Hawks, made the not-a-request call requiring Dominic and Griffin to attend a meeting at the arena.
And now I’m alone with my thoughts again, waiting on my DoorDash delivery because I totally lied to my brother about that and am going to take my troubles out on a Styrofoam box of deliciousness. And like the adult I am, I will absolutely hide the evidence before he returns so I don’t have to listen to another of his lectures about safety.
As if Dominic—a six-foot-plus-tall, muscled-up mountain of a male celebrity known for violent on-ice beatdowns—would have abetter grasp on safety than I, your average everyday woman, would. Yeah, something tells me he’s never walked a city block checking out the store window reflections to see if anyone’s behind him, but I’ve certainly done that. Countless times, as has every woman. Being hunted by the Mob definitely adds a new level of danger, but it’s not like I couldn’t get a stalker on a random trip to the grocery store or through an appearance as a cheerleader.
So yeah, I ordered brunch,andI’ll check the peephole before opening the door to make sure it’s the DoorDash delivery and nothing more. Because I freaking deserve it, the same way I deserved the Chocolate Orgasm ice cream I picked at until it melted last night, refusing to share a single bite with Dominic. Nope, kept it to myself, all while reliving the up-and-down emotional roller coaster I’ve been riding for the last twenty-four hours, trying to make sense of it all, and then dumping the liquid chocolatey goodness down the drain, pointedly making sure Dominic saw me.
My grand revelation from hours of deep thought? I just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, fixing my crown when it goes off-kilter, and getting up every time I get knocked down ... again.
After that self–pep talk, I started to make a plan. Because this girl likes a plan. In no particular order, my to-do list is ...
One, a come-to-Jesus talk with Griffin, in which I tell him to stop the secretive shit or I’m out. Those yellow flags of his are now screaming blood orange, and that’s not continuing. He screwed up big-time, but in a twisty way, it was for a good reason. Well, he thought it was. But this is the last time I’m going to give grace on that. Nor am I going to spend my life perpetually wrapped in Bubble Wrap. My spirit would suffocate. So if that’s what he wants, it won’t be with me.
Two, tell Dominic to get off his high horse because, despite him thinking he’s the boss of the universe, he can’t control me or Griffin. He should be thanking Griffin for the five-year reprieve. Because the truth is, I remember my thoughts when I saw Griffin in my parents’ kitchen all those years ago. Before he opened his mouth and ruined it,I was thinking I’d like to ride that ride. Raw, rough, and repeatedly. So really, the delay is a gift because I was an entirely different woman then. Young, full of dreams, and so stupid about the reality of life that with nothing more than the barest crook of Griffin’s finger, I would’ve happily let him smother me in Bubble Wrap. Now I know myself, my heart, and most importantly, my strength. So I’m glad to have had that time to grow up. And Dominic should be glad, too, because I’m better for it. I’m moremenow.
Three is the hardest step in this new plan and the scariest conversation of them all. I have to talk to Miles Conniver. I suggested it last night and promptly decided it was a horrible, no-good, dangerous idea, but I think it’s the only way to stop the threat his guys pose. Maybe if Mr. Conniver knows I don’t have the ring, they’ll leave me alone. Because none of this is my fault. All I did was buy a beautiful ring. The rest is the universe pulling a sick prank on me again.
Four, did my pink eternity band sell?
That being the easiest question to answer, I pull up my website’s back end to see that yes, the ring did sell. Woo-hoo! That’s another $500 toward my credit card bill! A few clicks later, the buyer has been sent an email thanking them for their purchase and I’ve got a shipping label printed. Even though the post office is closed today, I box the ring up beautifully, prepping it to begin its trek to its new owner in Oregon tomorrow. The small win restores my sense of control in some small way, reminding me that I can handle the rest of my to-do list too.
Even though I’m expecting my food delivery, the knock on my door scares the bejesus out of me. I jump a foot in the air, clutching invisible pearls at my neck, before laughing at myself. One glance at my phone, and I see the notification that my order has been delivered. Still, I peek out the peephole, checking the section of hallway that I can see.
The coast is clear, and heaven in a box waits just on the other side of the door. I open it slowly, already bending down to grab the bag when footsteps sound out on the stairs a few doors away.
I glance up as the two people I want to see least come into view. Not my brother and Griffin. I wish it were them. But no, my life couldn’t go that well. It’s the guys from the game.
I gasp in startled shock. They’ve found me!
How and why do things like this keep happening to me? Did I piss someone off in a former life, and now I’m doomed to catastrophe after catastrophe as punishment? Is there some sage-infused penance I can do to make it stop? Hell, I’d snort the whole damn sage stick if it’d help at this point.
But I don’t think that’d really work either.
“Shit!” I hear one of them mutter, and then he’s running toward my door.
I abandon my food, slamming the door shut as fast as I can and locking the dead bolts, wishing we had more than the two, which have always seemed perfectly adequate until now. Today, with the Mob bearing down on my door, I’m thinking steel core and twenty locks would be better, and then I’d only lock half of them so that if they tried to pick them, they’d be unlocking some and relocking others.
