"I have work, Willow."
I nodded. "What now?" I asked as I looked up into his eyes.
"Now you're mine." He said, "at least for a little while."
I knew he had to go to work eventually, but I didn't want my time with him to end. I wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever.
Chapter Six
Zach
I crossed the parking lot and looked over the city landscape.
It wasn't the Black Cat tonight. No, this was something different in an even less desirable part of town. Just fucking great. I was going to be babysitting a rich kid in a part of town that was so dangerous I'd rather be anywhere but there. Five Points was the kind of place where you didn't go unless you had a very specific purpose. Prostitution or gambling.
The ill lit streets provided only a minuscule amount of protection against the shadows that lurked in the night, and I kept my wits about me. Anything could happen here.
This wasn't the kind of place that I wanted my charge to be. It was seedy and dangerous, and it was stupid for a man worth millions of dollars to be walking these streets.
"Why are we here, exactly?" I asked as I leaned over towards him. It was the million dollar question and I needed to know. I needed a course of action. My brain was already running through a variety of scenarios, trying to figure out the best paths to the car, the best ways to escape if necessary.
"We have a meeting," he answered.
"With who? Gang and mob leaders?" I asked jokingly, but the look on his face told me it wasn't a fucking laughing matter. I straightened my shoulders and clenched my jaw. I wanted to be home with a sexy naked woman wrapped in my arms, not here doing this. I imagined her in my bed, naked with her lips parted as she sighed from what had occurred earlier. Fuck, I risked getting hard just thinking about it.
What the hell had he gotten us into?
"I'm putting something together here. I need to know who the fuck the major players are. Because I think one of them had something to do with Hope's death."
"So we are walking in to a den of possible murderers?" I asked, my voice hushed. I didn't want to give anything away. I wasn't stupid; these kinds of operations were my specialty.
It wasn't me I was worried about.
"And just what kind of meeting is it?" I asked.
"High stakes poker. These men have one of the most exclusive groups in the city. All of them have at least as much money as I do and they play games that would turn your stomach."
"And you want to be involved in this?" I raised my eyebrow. It was dangerous, even for him.
"I want to find the man who murdered my fiancée. It took me two months to get it set up, and I finally got an in. Not the easiest thing in the world to do, so don't blow it," he hissed as we walked up to the door.
A man stood on the outside, clearly another hired guy like me, his phone in hand.
"Name?" he asked as he looked out over the street. He was constantly scanning.
"Chance. Leo Chance." He had a strong voice that commanded respect. I kept referring to him as a rich kid, but he was more than that. Leo Chance was not someone to be fucked with.
That was the one thing I knew for sure.
He stepped aside as we walked through the doorway and into a lavishly decorated warehouse. It wasn't all what I expected in this part of town, but somehow I wasn't totally shocked. It was the perfect location and the perfect cover for something like this.
A network of rich scumbags who wanted a place to do their plotting and scheming behind a facade. If they were like Leo said they were, they probably owned half the city, and I'd be sitting in the room pretending I gave a shit.
The truth was, I was less than impressed. They didn't give anything for our society, they didn't bleed for our country. It meant nothing to me.
"I need to be able to stay one step ahead. I need to know what is going on." Leo and I walked until we found a door.
"Couldn't you get your information other ways? Like charities and galas and shit?" I asked. It seemed like the kind of thing that most rich people did to get their info.
"I've tried that, but information of this kind is scarce, man. These guys know all the shit there is to know, and I know one of them at least knows something, if they are not involved." He clenched his jaw and I saw the anger burning in his eyes.
His fiancée died at the hands of some asshole. For what? A chance to get at him. I didn't even know the motivation but I could tell just by looking at him that he was angry. That he wanted justice.
I could only imagine what I would do if that were me. Two years spent trying to get any lead he could, two years trying to find any information that would bring him closer to justice.
"Next time, you tell me the plan before we walk into the situation. I can't protect you if I don't know what is happening."
He nodded and I let out a breath. We were seconds from heading into a snake's den.
He opened the door and we were greeted with five of the weakest looking men I'd ever seen and their bodyguards.
I relaxed as I sized every one of them up. Leo Chance was by far the best looking for the bunch, and the most athletic looking.
I took a deep breath as I calmed down and assessed the situation. My fists curled, and even as I was looking at them, I had the urge to find whichever one of them was the biggest asshole and pummel him. I hadn't had a good fight in too long. I was starting to get antsy.
I owed him my support. Hell, I was being paid for my support.
I just wanted to make sure everything was thought through. Part of protecting him was making sure that the decisions made were smart. That they were going to be successful.
He wasn't the only one whose safety was on the line. It was my job to put his life ahead of my own, and to do that, I needed to make sure that every decision made was beneficial to us both.
"Leo, so glad to see you." A voice came from the other side of the room and I followed it until I saw him. The one guy that looked like he would be a formidable opponent. I must've mistaken him for a bodyguard because I didn't register him as one of them.
He was muscular and hard-jawed and he looked like he could've been the quarterback of any football team.
"Blake Maxwell, thank you for inviting me." Leo reached out his hand.
"Nonsense, as soon as I found out you were interested, I was more than happy to take your money. Lord knows you have enough of it."
Leo chuckled and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
My job was to fade into the background, to pretend I didn't exist.
So when Blake reached a hand out to me, I frowned.
"Blake Maxwell."
I took it and shook his hand.
"This is my new head of security, Mr. Zachary Murdock."
"Pleasure to meet you. We have refreshments, so feel free to help yourself."
I blinked then said, "Thank you, Mr. Maxwell."
"Blake, please." He released my hand and clamped Leo on the shoulder, leading him to the elaborate felt table.
They all sat down and got to business. The games were long, but I kept my mind occupied trying to analyze each and every person. It wasn't hard. I'd been trained to do this; it was my responsibility. I had each and every guy in the room pegged before the second hand was over.
By the end of the night, Leo had lost and earned and lost again.
"Well fellas, I think it's time we wrap up. My wife will want me home soon," one of the older men said as he looked at his watch. He'd lost a considerable amount of money and I could tell by the anxiety on his face that he was worried about losing more.
"You afraid you'll have to mortgage your beach house, Stan?" Blake asked with a smile on his face. He was one to talk. He came out ahead, with at least twenty-five thousand dollars to his name.
"Something like that," Stan admitted as he chuckled and took a swig of his beer.
"All right, I guess we should get going. Thanks for showing, Leo. I'd like to have you back." He eyed Leo and me. "I'll give you a call regarding the next meeting, all right?"
Leo's smile was slow and deliberate. That was exactly what he was hoping for. He wanted to be accepted into the group. That was the first step.
I knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I'll take you up on that, man. I'm looking forward to it." Leo was smooth as he shook the man's hands, then left with his meager winnings. He won, but only a little bit. Just enough to keep it interesting. From watching him, it was obvious that he was making calculated moves to win or lose, trying to gain favor and not make himself look better than he was.
If I had to guess, I would say he was doing the same exact thing I was, reading them.