Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(287)

“I can meet him whenever, that's no problem,” I say evenly, leveling my eyes at Bryce.

“Wonderful, let's say tonight then. We need to move things along so that he gets you access to the monastary and your brother.”

Bryce's tea-cup comes crashing down on the table, cracking the saucer beneath it; “Fuck this, this is a terrible plan.”

“Do you have a better one?” Sasha says sweetly, ignoring the broken dish.

“I'm working on it. We're not sending her in to- to do that.”

I swallow heavily; “Tonight it is.” I shoot him a look, as if to remind him that he doesn't own me.

Sasha grins that wicked smile at the two of us knowingly and chuckles; “Well, this has been fun.” She turns to Bryce; “And your friend in the State Department is still willing to go through with our arrangement?”

“Yes,” He growls through clenched teeth.

“Well then, I'll be seeing you two later.” Neither of us say a word as Sasha slinks out of her seat and slips away.

“You're not fucking doing this.”

“It's not your decision,” I spit out, standing to leave.

“The fuck it isn't.”

I gasp as I feel his hand shoot out and grab my wrist; “Get your hands off me, don’t touch me”

“Not if it means his hands get to.”

“You don't get to make those decisions anymore,” I say quickly, shaking his hand off and running for the door.





13





Peyton




I can do this.

That's not to say I'm not utterly terrified and trying hard not think about what “doing this” may actually mean later. But I know deep down that I can take anything. After the childhood I had? Yeah, I can take it.

I hope.

I've got the hotel room to myself, which is fine because I need to clear my head and get my thoughts in line for what I have to do.

I've told Bryce not to be at the restaurant where I'll be meeting Anderson, which of course triggered him storming out of the room, but again, that's fine. I just need to get through this, because damn it, I am going to get my brother back.

The stone-lined streets of the city are lit up like a candle-lit dreamscape after dark. Lanterns and candelabras fill the air with an almost mystical glow as I make my way to the restaurant. The thought occurs to me that this would be beautiful, if I could even think of that right now.

There's a moment where I wonder if he'll even be here. For a flash of second, right before I walk into the restaurant, there's this glimmer of hope in the back of my head that he bailed, or lost interest, or hell, even maybe got wise to our plan.

No luck, of course.

He's there, grinning at me when I walk in, and it's not thirty seconds later when I realize who else is here as well.

Goddamnit, Bryce.

He's sitting at the bar, eyeing me with a dark look as he nurses a coffee. This is exactly why I didn't want him here. Because I don't know if I can do this anyways, but with him here, all bets are off.

“Heya babe! Lookin hot tonight!” Anderson is drunk of course, or at least well on his way to being there when he wraps me in a gross, sweaty bear hug.

“Um, thanks,” I say, smiling thinly as I pull away from his embrace and sit at our table. He's ordered me a drink already, again.

“So, couldn't get enough of the Bull, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

He grins this smug, piggy smile at me; “Oh, yeah, that's just my nickname some of the guys call me; The Bull.” I cringe as he snorts loudly, his fingers on his forehead like horns and drawing virtually every eye in the place to our table.

This is exactly the type of man I hate, because he reminds me of Bill. Mulish, loud, drunk, and obnoxious, all with that mean streak in his eyes. This is exactly the type of man who'd terrorize anyone around him just because he could and they couldn't fight back. This is the type of man who'd hit a high school girl; who'd laugh while he burned her with a cigarette.

Get through this. Just get through this for Logan.

“So what brings you to Istanbul, babe?”

“Oh, business.” I've already planned these answers; “My company is making some land deals here.”

Anderson snorts on his drink; “Well, well! A workin lady! I always wanted to land me a rich gal!”

Against every warning bell inside my head, I chance a look over his shoulder at Bryce, who's quite openly just staring at the back of Anderson's back like he wants him to spontaneously explode under his gaze.

Anderson suddenly reaches across the table and grabs my hands, rubbing them hard and aggressively but in a way I'm sure he thinks, or maybe read in some guy magazine, demonstrates his affections or turns me on or something.

Spoiler: it doesn't.

I chance another glance towards the bar and see Bryce's eyes burning holes in the back of Anderson's head, murder in his look.