Play to Win (13 page)

Ryker nodded. “Yeah. No one's seen her for over a week. I went by her apartment yesterday and there's no trace of her. Her car is in the lot, untouched. And no one broke into her apartment. No sign of a struggle either. It's like she disappeared into thin air.”

“You don't think she'd be involved in any of Natalie's shit, do you?” Parker asked. “You knew her better than I did.”

“No, she's not like Natalie. When I knew her, she was a sweet and naïve little thing. Wouldn't hurt a fly.”

“That was ten years ago,” Parker reminded him. “People change.”

“Not that much.”

That was true. At their core, both he and Ryker were the same, which was probably why they'd been able to fall back into the familiar cadence of what they used to be even after so long a drought.

And they both had Sage to thank for that. Without her, Parker doubted either of them would've reached out to try and repair the damage to their friendship. She'd united them, then tore herself away to keep them together. In other words, the complete opposite of what Natalie had done. Natalie had thrived to see them fighting over her. But not Sage. And that made all the difference.

A few miles passed in silence before Parker pulled over and parked. “It's on the next block,” he said.

They both got out, falling into step as they approached the corner. Ahead, the glowing sign of an Italian restaurant blinked lazily. Two men, both in suits with telltale bulges at their sides, stood in too-deliberate casualness by the door.

Parker didn't pay them any attention as he brushed by, but then one of them grabbed his elbow.

“Hey, you can't go—”

His next words were abruptly cut off by Parker's fist in his throat.

Ryker had the other guy down and out with two blows by the time Parker had knocked out the one who'd touched him. Together, they dragged the men to the side of the doorway out of sight, then proceeded into the restaurant.

Parker laid eyes on Steven Shea immediately. In his late twenties, he was tall but shorter than Parker by a good two inches. He was fit in the kind of way that made women look twice, but not fit enough to keep him from getting his ass kicked in a fight.

Glancing away from where Steven was holding court with two other men and a woman, Parker sat at a table toward the back. Ryker sat with him. Both had their backs to the door.

A nervous waiter bobbed over, giving them menus and taking their order for a glass of wine each. They knew ordering anything else would look out of place.

Parker and Ryker pretended to study the menu.

“Do you have a plan?” Ryker asked, perusing the entrees.

“I'm winging it.”

“So the usual.”

“Pretty much.”

“Awesome.”

The waiter returned with two glasses of red. “I'll have the lasagna,” Parker ordered, his gaze catching on Steven as he got up from his table.

“Make that two,” Ryker said, handing the waiter the menu. He glanced at Parker. He'd seen Steven get up, too.

Steven headed for the bathroom, one bodyguard in tow. Parker rose and followed him. Ryker got up as well.

The bodyguard was lax in his vigilance, and his unconscious body was hauled aside embarrassingly quickly. Ryker took up his position as Parker entered the men's restroom.

Steven was standing at a urinal and glanced over.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? This is supposed to be private.”

“Maybe you're not familiar with the concept of a public restroom,” Parker said, taking a step closer. “Privacy isn't part of the deal.”

Steven zipped up and flushed. “Whatever.” He headed for the door. Parker stopped him with hard shove in the chest.

“Didn't you forget something?” he asked. “Always wash your hands. Dickwad.”

“What the—”

“Let's talk about that,” Parker said, shoving him back against the wall. “And some other things.”

“Rusty!” Steven called out. “Rusty! Get in here!”

“Oh, you looking for your bodyguard?” Parker asked. “He's been…detained.”

Steven's face turned red. “Who the fuck are you?” he snarled. “You hurt me, you're going to regret it. I can promise you that, motherfucker.”

“Let me tell you what I'm going to regret,” Parker growled, moving his hand to circle Steven's throat. His other hand drew his weapon and he held the barrel to Steven's temple. The man went very still at the touch of the metal against his skin. “I'm going to regret not ending this right here and now, but I'm hoping you're smarter than you look.”

“Fuck you,” Steven managed to squeeze out.

Parker slammed Steven's head against the tile at his back. The crack of bone against ceramic was loud in the tiled bathroom. “I guess I was wrong. You're a dipshit. If you want to prolong your life expectancy, you'll listen up and listen good. I know about your adolescent vendetta against the Muccino family. Get over it.”

“They killed my father. I deserve revenge.”

“You deserve nothing. Your father made his choices, and he paid for them. You keep on this path, you'll follow exactly where he went.” Parker paused, squeezing the kid's throat harder, cutting off his air supply. “This is your only warning.”

He held him for another ten seconds, enough for Steven's face to start turning blue. Then he abruptly let go. Steven bent forward, coughing and choking. Parker took two steps and was out of the bathroom.

Ryker was waiting. One glance and they were heading for the back door. Sixty seconds later, Parker was unlocking his car.

“Do you think he'll heed the warning?” Ryker asked as they drove away.

“Doubtful. But at least now he knows he's up against someone who can fuck him over. We can hope maybe cooler heads prevail and he'll take advice.”

“I'm not betting on it.”

“Me neither.” Parker sighed. It had been worth a shot.

“Think the girls are okay?” Ryker asked.

A niggle of unease crept through Parker, but he tried to shrug it off. “Yeah. I'm sure they're fine. They're girls. How bad could it get?”

I ground my teeth as the door shut behind Parker, leaving Natalie and me by ourselves while they went off to do who knew what.

I was so going to kill him for this.

“Didn't I see that Parker has a wine rack over here?” Natalie asked, heading for the kitchen.

Okay, so maybe she and I could agree on one thing: Lubrication was needed to grease these wheels.

I grabbed our glasses while she uncorked another bottle. I didn't ask what kind and she didn't offer to tell me. The silence between us was the kind I imagined Old West gunfighters used to experience right after they'd paced off and before they drew.

She fired first.

“I guess we have a couple of things in common,” she said. At my questioning look, she added, “You know. Parker and Dean.”

Wow. She wasn't playing around, instead going right for the jugular.

“Oh?” I decided to play dumb. “I thought you were just friends.”

She laughed. “We were all much more than friends.” Taking a long drink of the white wine, she headed for the living room, leaving me in the unenviable position of trailing after her. She settled on the couch. I sat at the far end, leaving a no-man's-land between us.

“That was a long time ago,” I said. “They've moved on.”

“To you, apparently.”

I took a sip of wine. Decided that didn't need a response. I was feeling very territorial over Ryker and Parker, and Natalie was obviously trying to antagonize me.

“Listen,” she said, “I don't want us to be enemies.”

“You sure about that?”

She laughed lightly at my dry tone. “I'm sorry. We have a history, the three of us.” She shrugged. “I guess I didn't realize how much I've missed them.”

“Why didn't you come back before now?” I asked. “Why wait until Jessie went missing?”

“I didn't think they'd want to see me again.”

“They thought you were dead.”

“Exactly. I'd hurt them enough already. I didn't want to hurt them again.”

She looked so remorseful, I almost believed her.

I smiled. “I'm sure they'll let bygones be bygones. What's important now is finding Jessie.”

Anxiety crossed her delicate features and I thought it was real. But then again, I knew she was also a very good actress. I didn't want to minimize the danger to Jessie, but neither did I want Parker or Ryker to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.

What was I saying?
I
was currently the biggest threat to Parker.

Yeah, I really didn't want to think about that.

“You have no idea who could have sent that note? Who would think you had that kind of money?”

“I don't know,” she said. “I'm telling the truth. I have no idea.”

Hmm.
“So…what do you do for a living?” I asked. If the kidnapper had asked her for that much money, maybe he was somehow connected to her work, to think she had access to ten thousand dollars.

“I'm a dental hygienist.”

Dentists made decent money. Maybe she was sleeping with her boss.
Shocker.

I cut that judgy thought off right way. Like I was one to talk. Those who live in glass houses…

“So in other words, you don't have ten grand lying around and no one who knows you would think you would.”

“Right.”

“And your sister wasn't involved in anything bad? She hadn't said anything about being in trouble or being afraid?” You'd think there would have been some kind of warning, especially if ransom was involved. But Natalie was shaking her head.

“Not a word.”

Reaching over, she refilled our wineglasses. Huh. I hadn't even realized we'd drank it all. It seemed I wasn't the only one who could drink. Which gave me an idea.

“I could use something a little stronger.” I got up and retrieved Parker's bottle of scotch and two shot glasses. I poured some into each and handed her one. “To finding Jessie,” I toasted, clinking my glass against hers.

We both tossed back the shot, each one eyeing the other for any sign of weakness. She didn't cough at all.
Dammit. This may be harder than I thought.
People talked when they were drunk, their inhibitions lowered. I just needed to get her drunk, but first I had to outlast her.

I repeated the process and we downed the second shot. Her eyes narrowed, watching me the same way I was watching her.

My throat burned, my lungs wanted desperately to cough. I swallowed the shot down, my eyes watering.

“Good stuff,” I managed to squeak out. I cleared my throat as a smile flitted across Natalie's face.

“Parker's always had excellent taste,” she said. This time, she poured the shots. “Bottoms up.”

Fuck. I was so screwed. A fact that became painfully obvious about an hour later when the room was spinning and I'd decided that listening to Air Supply was the best. Idea. Ever.

“You're every woman in the world…to me…” I warbled. Wine sloshed out of my glass onto the couch. “Oops.”

“That's alcohol abuse,” Natalie said.

I giggled. “I could lick it up, I guess.” I bent over, but was laughing too hard and ended up getting wine on my nose. The couch was slippery and next thing I knew, I was sitting on my ass on the floor.

We both dissolved into gales of laughter. Which was how Ryker and Parker found us when they walked in the door.

“I see you found my scotch,” Parker said, picking up the empty decanter and setting it back on the table.

“It was deeelishus.” I smacked my lips.

“Yum,” Natalie agreed. “The wine, too.” Two empty bottles littered the floor.

Mmmm, wine.
I went to take a drink from my glass, but it was empty. “It's gone,” I said sadly, turning the glass upside down. “No more wine.”

“It looks like the remains of a frat party in here,” Ryker said, taking the glass from me.

“We're bonding,” I explained.

“Is that what it's called?” he asked. “I thought you were just getting stinking drunk.”

“You're being awfully judgy.” A burp escaped and my eyes went wide as I clapped a hand over my mouth. “'scuse me.”

Natalie and I dissolved in a fit of giggles again. I swore I heard identical male sighs of long-suffering.

“Upsy daisy,” Parker said, wrapping an arm around me and hauling me up to my feet. My knees weren't cooperating, so I hung on to him. He didn't seem to mind.

“What am I supposed to do with this one?” Ryker asked as Parker started walking me toward the bedroom.

“I don't care. Take her with you.”

“You're kidding, right?”

But Parker was already closing the bedroom door behind us.

I
flopped onto the bed and waited for the room to stop turning.

“What possessed you to get drunk with Natalie, of all people?” he asked.

His hands were braced on his hips, which drew my eyes south of the border. I really liked those jeans on him. I wondered if I asked him to turn around whether he'd do it.

“No, I'm not turning around,” he said.

Huh. I guess I'd said that out loud.

“Was there a purpose to bonding with your nemesis?” he asked.

“I thought maybe if I got her drunk, she'd let something slip,” I said. “But it didn't quite go like I planned.”

“No shit.”

“Don't get all pissy,” I groused. “I'm the one who's going to feel like crap tomorrow.”

“Well, did it work?” he asked. “Did she say anything?”

I nodded, then immediately regretted the action. And just as the room had settled down, too. “It was about three shots and two glasses of wine in.”

“And?”

I closed my eyes. Had to get this just right. “She said, and I quote, ‘Is it weird that we've both slept with the same two guys?'” I cracked open an eye. “That's when I took another shot.”

Parker looked like he'd just bitten into a lemon.

“Yeah, not something I want to dwell on either.” I hauled myself up. I wanted a bath.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to take a bath,” I said, getting carefully to my feet. So far, so good. The room remained upright. Now to make it into the bathroom.

“Do you always take a bath when you're drunk?” Parker slipped an arm around my waist while I tried to pretend I didn't need the assistance.

“It helps me relax.”

“I'd think two bottles of wine and half a bottle of scotch would make you as relaxed as anyone should be.”

Smartass.
It was on the tip of my tongue, but then we reached the bathroom and sitting down seemed like a really good idea. I didn't protest when Parker leaned me against the counter and began drawing my bath. It was kind of sweet, actually, the way he kept testing the water to make sure it was the right temperature.

“I don't have any bubble bath or salts or whatever women put in their baths,” he said. He was frowning, as though this was of vital importance and he'd have to fire someone for the oversight.

“That's fine,” I said, unable to stop a smile from spreading across my face.

“What?” he asked, but I just shook my head.

Last night, I'd been feeling uncertain about Parker and me. Tonight…well, tonight he looked pretty darn good in those jeans. My hormones decided they weren't too drunk to stand up and take notice. He was wearing a button-down shirt, too, and I loved undoing buttons…

“Oh no you don't,” Parker said, holding up a hand and stopping me. I hadn't even realized I'd moved toward him. “You're drunk. All you're getting tonight is a bath.”

“I'm not
that
drunk,” I said, sliding my hands up his chest.
Mmmm, hard…
I angled for the buttons.

“You're drunk enough and I'm not about to have you do something tonight that you'll regret tomorrow,” he said, grasping my wrists and pulling them away from his body.

“I promise I won't regret a thing.” I inched closer until his back was against the wall. “Two consenting adults…and it's not like we haven't done it before.” His grip on my wrists was lax and I pulled one hand free, pressing it against the bulge in his jeans.

Parker's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You're not making this easy,” he said. I was gratified at the roughness in his voice and the way his gaze dropped to my breasts.

“If it's easy, then it's not worth having now, is it?” I murmured, leaning close enough for our bodies to touch. His cock was hard beneath my fingers and an answering heat flashed between my thighs.

Parker's shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, exposing the skin there. It was tan and smooth and begged for me to taste. I stretched up and fastened my lips to his throat, my tongue tasting the salt on his skin. He didn't move away, which I took to be an encouragement.

Hand-eye coordination suffered with alcohol intake, but Parker was the best incentive there was to make the effort to undo a few more buttons on his shirt one-handed while my other hand was busy outlining his erection through his jeans.

Lowering his head, he nuzzled my hair and ear, his lips just brushing against me. The slight touch made me suck in a breath as my skin tingled, so acutely sensitive was I to everything he did to me.

The air was thick with humidity, steam from the bathtub billowing around us. Finally, I felt Parker's palms close over my hips and pull me closer.

Now we were getting somewhere.

My fingers threaded through his hair as my lips inched up his neck to his jaw. I felt a groan vibrate inside his chest. His hands gripped me tighter, his erection pressing against my softness. My body felt like warm butter against his, molding to him. I twined my arms around his neck, moving my mouth closer to his. I could almost taste him on my tongue—

The door flew open and Natalie came bursting in. She ran past us to the toilet and promptly threw up.

Well, that was a mood killer.

The sound of it made my stomach turn over and I bolted out of the bathroom so I didn't end up doing the same damn thing. Parker or Ryker could hold her hair, though neither one looked to be in any great hurry to do so. Instead, Parker followed me.

“Do me a favor,” he said to me. “Next time you want to get somebody drunk, drink the cheap stuff, okay?”

Got it.

I didn't feel as bad the next morning as I'd thought I would. I'd fallen asleep—not passed out (because ladies don't pass out)—on Parker's bed while Natalie was still heaving her guts out in the bathroom. When I woke up, I discovered she'd ended up lying next to me. I grimaced and eased out of bed.

A trip to the bathroom made me feel more human, and I tugged on fresh clothes after my shower. I desperately needed coffee and wandered into the kitchen. Ryker was already awake and sipping on a steaming mug of nirvana.

“I didn't realize you'd stayed,” I said, pouring myself a cup. It felt odd—really odd—to be here at Parker's with Ryker. The last time he and I'd had coffee together had been in my kitchen and we'd probably made love before, after, or both. A slight pang of sadness in my chest at the thought made me remember that even being in love with someone else, it would still take some time to get used to our new friend status.

“Parker looked like he might have his hands full with the two of you last night, so I crashed on the couch.”

Ah.

“So any news on the shooting or my apartment?” I asked, taking the seat at the table across from him.

“Actually, yeah,” Ryker said, pulling out a three-by-four color mug shot. “Forensics found trace DNA on the cat. Like a needle in a haystack, but they narrowed it down to this guy, Rafael Miso.”

I was studying the photo when I heard, “Who's he?”

We both turned to see Parker had come out of his office. All he wore was jeans, and I stared. With his hair tousled and a shadow of stubble on his jaw, he looked mouthwatering. He obviously didn't have the same effect on Ryker, because Ryker just answered Parker's question as if nothing were amiss.

“Miso is a common street thug. Hires himself out to the highest bidder for petty crimes, vandalism, theft, B&E…that kind of thing.”

Parker poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table with us. I tore my gaze away to focus on something else. Anything else. Last night's hormones hadn't gone away with my inebriation and they were acutely reminding me of how very well Parker and I fit together.

“So someone probably hired him to break into my apartment and kill Morris?” I asked, trying to pull my head out of the fantasies I was conjuring of Parker and me.

“It's not like he would have had any cause to go there on his own,” Ryker replied, which was just this side of saying
Duh
. I shot him a look. “Sorry,” he said. “I just don't particularly like the idea of somebody hiring a guy like him to break into your place.”

Yeah, me neither.

“Let's pay Rafael a visit,” Parker said.

“We can't just go start cracking skulls and shit,” Ryker said. “It's an ongoing investigation. Plus, it's not even technically my case. I've just been calling in favors to stay in the loop.”

“You and I both know what's going to happen if the cops pick up Rafael,” Parker said. “He'll call for his lawyer and clam up and we won't get anything out of him. If it was Shea who hired him, then we'll know for sure. Let's rule out any third party involvement here.”

“Where are you going?”

I turned with a sigh to see Natalie easing into the last remaining chair. She'd brushed her hair and I smelled mint toothpaste, but she still wore Parker's shirt, which was conveniently unbuttoned to show off cleavage. The oh-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed thing might've fooled a man, but I knew better.

“We think we know who killed the neighbor's cat and left it on Sage's bed,” Ryker said. “Parker's trying to convince me we should take a field trip to see him.”

“Can I come?” Natalie asked.

Both men stared at her. “Why?” Ryker asked.

She shrugged. “I'm going crazy, worrying about Jessie. I need to keep my mind off it. Sitting around here, staring at the walls, isn't helping.”

There was no way I was letting her tag along with Parker and Ryker without me. “I'm coming, too,” I said.

Parker glanced at Ryker. “It's not a bad idea to have Sage with us, not after last night.”

They exchanged a meaningful look I couldn't interpret, but my spidey sense went off. “What happened last night?” They'd been gone for a while together and I'd been too drunk when they returned to quiz them about their whereabouts.

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

Right.

“You can either tell me or take us with you,” I said. Neither of them hurried to spill their guts—big surprise. “Then it's settled. We're coming.” And I could keep an eye on Natalie.

“It could be dangerous,” Ryker said, which only made Parker roll his eyes.

“There's two of us and it's not like we'd be walking in on him without a clue,” Parker said. “Let's track him down. You can chat with him and maybe I'll do a little breaking and entering.”

“Don't
tell
me that,” Ryker admonished, glaring.

“Fine. Pretend I didn't say anything.”

“And what'll these two do while you're breaking the law and I'm breaking Rafael?”

Two blue gazes landed on me and Natalie.

“We'll wait in the car,” I offered. “Won't be any trouble. I swear.”

Famous last words, right?

Everything about Natalie set my teeth on edge. From her laugh, to the way she liked to toss her hair, to how she kept finding excuses to touch Parker.

She'd changed into what I guessed she thought was a “badass” outfit—black skintight jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a V-neck. The shirt was cut low enough to showcase cleavage that could only be achieved with a state-of-the-art combination of primo elastic and exceptional padding.

I tried to unobtrusively readjust my own assets inside my JC Penney's special as I followed Parker and Natalie through the parking garage. She stuck to him like glue, asking him what he and Ryker were going to do about Jessie and the ransom note.

“Ryker's working on it,” Parker said, disengaging her arm from his so he could unlock the car. “We still have time before the deadline.”

Natalie chewed her lip and nodded before stepping in front of me to scoot into the front passenger seat. The door slammed shut.

Guess I shoulda called shotgun.

I glanced up and caught Parker's eye above the car. He raised an eyebrow and I swear the corner of his mouth twitched. My eyes narrowed. So he thought this was funny, did he? Maybe he liked the idea of Natalie hanging all over him, hoping I'd get jealous?

Sometimes you should be careful what you wish for.

“So, Sage,” Natalie said as Parker drove, following Ryker's motorcycle ahead of us. “What do you do for your dad's company?”

“Um, well, I just started working there,” I said. “I'm learning the business right now.”

“I just don't think I could do that,” Natalie said, more to Parker than me. “Jump into a business and job I know nothing about just because it's run by family. Seems like a really big responsibility.”

My jaw wanted to drop at her audacity, couched in a gosh-I'm-just-being-honest tone. I had to hand it to her; she was really good. I could easily see how Parker and Ryker had been taken in, when they were younger and less worldwise, by the manipulations of this woman.

“Sage is very smart,” Parker said. “I'm sure she won't have any trouble at all.”

I had a grudging appreciation for his defense of me, but that didn't make me any more inclined to like Natalie.

We drove to a part of the city where my dad would've felt at home, but which made me want to glance over my shoulder constantly. Ryker parked in a side alley where the shadows concealed his bike from the autumn sunshine, while Parker drove another block to park in a half-filled lot.

“You're staying in the car,” he said to Natalie and me.

“That's what we promised,” I said. Not that I was happy about it, but I'd rather be here than left back at his apartment.

Parker glanced out the rear window to where Ryker stood waiting on the sidewalk. His gaze caught mine and I tried to communicate for him to be careful in the way I looked at him. I didn't want either of them to get hurt, especially tracking down a guy who might have no problem doing to a person what he'd done to Morris.