Hideaway Page 17

  Placing my hand on Kai’s shoulder to keep steady, I slowly arched up on my tip-toes to raise myself higher. I extended my other arms, stretching my muscles and joints centimeter by centimeter until finally, I went as far as I could go. I winced, trying to catch the small thread that dangled. Shifting my body just slightly, I continued trying, but it was no use.

  I let out a sigh. “I can’t reach it.”

  Falling back to my feet, I looked down at Kai.

  And stopped breathing.

  He was just staring at me. Right there, looking up, with his arms wrapped around my thighs and his face damn near between them. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

  An amused smile hit his eyes, and my heart started pumping wildly. I didn’t want to know what the hell was running through his head right now.

  “You okay?” he asked. I could tell the fucker was holding a smirk back.

  I jumped down, forcing him away, and straightened my clothes, pulling down my T-shirt and jacket. “I’m fine.”

  He would only use you. I had to remember that his goal was Damon. Revenge. And he knew Damon cared about me, so that made me valuable.

  I ignored the beat in my chest and shook off the look in his eyes.

  Don’t make the same mistakes. Don’t let him touch you. Don’t want him. You can’t have him.

  I forgot that six years ago, but I wouldn’t this time.

  The silence crawled my skin, and the sound of the light rain droned on around us.

  “Why do you wear that stuff?” Kai’s voice was quiet and soft.

  Stuff. My clothes?

  I averted my gaze, my armor thickening. I’d taken more than enough crap about my appearance over the years.

  What, you don’t like my second-hand combat boots with broken laces and scuffed toes? Do they offend you? Was there some rule that my jeans were supposed to be tight, so men I didn’t know could take pleasure at looking at my ass like I was a car on the street?

  “I wear what I want,” I snipped. “I don’t dress to please anyone else.”

  “On the contrary…” I felt him approach, and I looked down, seeing his shoes stop a foot away from me. “I’m wondering if you do dress like this to, indeed, please someone else.”

  I met his gaze, the long, exhausting practice of showing no emotion coming easier than it did when I was a kid.

  Okay. Point taken. Maybe I did start dressing like this to please Damon. I was never allotted money for clothes, and even now my pay was too miniscule to afford much. But I was happy with what my brother gave me and would’ve gladly worn anything if it meant I could stay with him.

  And growing up, these clothes kept me safe. There were too many men around, and I looked younger when I was wearing this stuff. It hid my shape and helped keep me invisible.

  “Those are men’s clothes,” he pointed out, his voice growing hard. “Used men’s clothes. Whose are they? Are they all Damon’s?”

  “What do you care?” I shot back. “I’ll do my job. Drive you around, fix your shithole of a house, clean your dojo, and I don’t need to wear a ball gown to do it.”

  He broke out in a smile. “You’re a complete mystery, and I’m curious about you. That’s all. So, let’s start simple. What’s your name?”

  “Banks.”

  “What’s your name, Banks?”

  I almost snorted.

  Almost.

  He was a little faster on the pick-up than his friends, wasn’t he?

  Banks was my last name. I liked it, because I thought I’d get more respect sounding less like a woman, and my father preferred it, because he hated my first name.

  And none of that was Kai Mori’s business.

  Kai went on, “And where are you from? Where are your parents? Were you really home-schooled?” He began walking into me, and I tripped backward, stumbling. “Where do you live? Do you have any friends? How can you work for that disgusting piece of shit, huh? How do you sleep?”

  I hit the glass door, and he closed the distance between us, hovering and dropping his voice to a whisper, “Or how about an even easier question?” His heat filtered through my jacket, and every inch of me hummed. “I’m going to confession today. Want to come…Banks?”

  His eyes locked on my lips, and my breathing turned shallow. Oh, Christ. The wind carried in his smell, and I inhaled, the world in front of me starting to spin.

  I blinked, turning away. The memory of our first encounter—the story he fed me that got under my skin that day in the confessional—God, I’d liked the way that felt. Talking like that with him.

  I balled my fists and met his eyes again, forcing my tone to stay even. “Oh, Mr. Mori, have you forgotten?” I replied, faking innocence. “You always go to confession at the end of the month.”

  I fixed him with a knowing smile, watching his amused expression fall and turn dark.

  Yeah. Never forget I know all about you.

  His eyes remained calm, but I could hear the acceptance of my challenge in his taunting words, “See you at work.”

  And stepping around me without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving me by myself.

  I stayed for a moment, staring up at the dangling threads of my scarf on the balcony above me.

  I prided myself on always staying one step ahead. Information was power. It was more valuable than money.

  But apprehension quietly crept in, anyway.

  Kai wasn’t stupid.

  Eventually, he’d catch up.

  Banks

  Present

  Delcour sat on the other side of the river from the Whitehall district. I remembered seeing the building from a distance from our apartment downtown when I was a kid and lived with my mother. Tall, black, with gold trim, it reminded me of something out of an old movie. Gangsters in pinstripe suits, cars with whitewall tires, ladies in fancy gowns…. A tad of the art deco look, a bit of old Hollywood, and entirely too ostentatious, but it always filled me with awe when I would catch a glimpse of it. I didn’t know how anything could be glamorous and haunting at the same time, but Delcour proved that there was such a thing. It sat in the middle of the city like an ornate jewel on someone wearing a potato sack.

  I didn’t fit in in places like this, and my nerves were acting of their own accord.

  There’d probably be young people like me, but unlike me, they’d be hyper on a completely different set of priorities: designer shoes and triple, venti, no foam, soy lattes.

  The elevator stopped, and the doors opened, the vibrations from the music under my feet hitting my ears now.

  My mouth dry, I forced a step and entered Michael Crist’s penthouse.

  “Hello,” a man in black pants and a black shirt greeted me. “May I take your coat?”

  “No.”

  I passed the racks of coats in the entryway, ignoring his taken-aback expression, and rounded the corner into the rest of the residence. Music played loudly, but I could still hear the chatter of the couples I walked by. Men moved about, dressed casually, some in suits with open collars, others in jeans and T-shirts, while the women were dressed to the nines. As usual.

  The dim lights shined over the black marble floors, and I walked into the living room, the hair on my arms rising at the sight of all the people.

  But I forced myself to relax. Crowds made me nervous, but I could deal. A few pairs of eyes drifted over me, trailing up and down my appearance, but I just continued my scan of the room.

  Where the fuck was he?

  I walked, slowly surveying the party for his sharply styled black hair and usual bored stare, but it appeared to be impossible. Many of the guests looked like they were Storm players—Michael’s teammates—because even Kai’s impressive six-foot-two was going to get lost in the midst of some of the six-and-a-half and seven-foot guys here.

  Cry Little Sister droned out of the speakers, and I caught sight of Erika, walking back inside through the terrace entrance. Candlelight flickered across her skin, and our eyes met. She made
her way over to me.

  “Hi,” she said calmly, her smile small but warm. Even though she must know I didn’t want to have anything to do with her, she didn’t show it.

  “Is Kai still here?” I asked, gesturing to the envelope in my hand. “He wanted this tonight.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment but just looked into my eyes.

  “This way,” she finally answered.

  Falling in behind her, I followed her past the kitchen and down a hallway, looking to my left and seeing a sunken basketball court, right here, in the apartment.

  Because of course there was.

  Several guys in suits sans jackets raced up and down the court. I quickly searched the players’ faces but didn’t see Kai there, either.

  Erika trailed farther down a dimly lit hallway, and my gaze fell on her back, kind of admiring the sleek and flowing black jumpsuit she wore with criss-crossed straps over her shoulder blades. Beautiful, simple, and the horsemen’s center.

  Everything I would never be to anyone.

  Still, I couldn’t see why Damon was so obsessed with her.

  She veered right and opened a door, deep voices and laughter immediately drifting into the hallway. Rika turned with her back to the open door, making room for me to enter.

  I stepped in and looked around. A card table with half a dozen men, including Michael and Will, sat in the center of the room, and Kai occupied a chair, his back to me. Several more men loitered at various tables around the room, and a woman leaned on the wall in the corner, a drink in her hand.

  A few, including Michael and Will, cast me a glance, pausing a moment, but most didn’t pay me any mind.

  I marched to Kai’s side, not looking back to see if Rika stayed or left.

  “I could’ve brought this to your house later,” I said, annoyed as I shoved the envelope at his chest. “Or to the dojo in the morning.”

  He had me working and running errands nonstop for the past two days, after all. It was late, and I needed sleep.

  Ignoring my complaints, he took the envelope and opened it.

  I turned to leave.

  “Stay,” I heard him say.

  I stopped, turning back.

  Kai pulled out the papers Gabriel gave me, while my gaze flashed to Michael, who was watching me. I almost smiled. Tenderfoot was still probably pissed about yesterday at the hotel.

  I watched Kai flip through the contract but then stop to pull out a pen from his inside breast pocket. That was to be expected. Gabriel knew he’d fight certain stipulations.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce your friend, Kai?” a man on the other side of the table asked.

  But Kai just cocked the pen, his eyes narrowing as he read.

  And then I saw him shift in his seat and look up, eyeing me. “Is he kidding?” He points the tip of his pen to a bullet point on the contract, something about making sure Vanessa had children in a timely manner.

  One of his eyebrows damn near touched his hairline as he looked at me like it was my fault.

  I shrugged. “If you can’t get it done, we can give her to a better man. Just say the word.”

  He just looked at me, not even the faintest scowl marring his statuesque face. He turned back to the document. Slicing his pen across the page, he crossed out the provision and moved to the next page, also X-ing out several others.

  “So, it’s that easy in your world, huh?” he asked, keeping his voice just between us. “Just give one person to another person?”

  “You should know,” I shot back.

  I was given to him until the wedding, wasn’t I?

  “This is Banks,” he spoke up again, louder, so everyone at the table could hear. “She works for Gabriel Torrance. How long have you worked for him now?” He glanced up at me, but didn’t wait for me to answer. “Kind of odd how such a young girl got taken into a millionaire scumbag’s mansion like that, don’t you think?” His pen moved swiftly across the pages, circling and jotting notes. “Does he know your family? Do they have connections to him?” A wisp of a smile softened his stern face as he looked over the rest of the contract. “It would be interesting to find out how that happened. What use a woman could be to a house full of men, I wonder.”

  A few people around the table chuckled under their breaths at his insinuation.

  “And how much does he pay you or…” He paused, drawing out his last words. “What did he pay for you?”

  He looked up at me, flipping the pages back into place and slipping the document back into its envelope. He might’ve been thinking out loud, or he might’ve been hinting at finding out the answers himself. It wouldn’t be hard. A PI would only have to talk to my mother.

  “Gotta be less than what I pay for a woman,” I heard Will toss out, followed by more quiet laughter from around the room. He shot me a look, letting his distaste scale up and down my appearance.

  “Oh, please,” the woman in the corner interrupted. “Like I even charge you anymore. All you want to do is cuddle half the time anyway.”

  One of the men at the table snorted, barely able to contain his laughter, while others didn’t bother trying to hide it.

  Will turned to her with a scowl, whining, “Fuuuuuck.”

  She smiled and winked at him.

  That must be Alex. College student and over-priced escort from the sixteenth floor. Friends with Rika, and has Will Grayson as a regular customer.

  Damon liked her energy. Didn’t like that she wouldn’t do everything he wanted, though.

  “So many questions...” Kai held up the envelope, offering it to me. “Almost makes you wanna hire someone to find out the answers.”

  I blinked slowly, trying to look bored, but my heart sped up just a hair. I’d expected this. Kai negotiated learning curves faster than most. I’d been researching him and his pals. He’d start doing the same with me, of course.

  I’d have to pay my mother a visit.

  Tomorrow.

  “Have him agree to these changes, and I’ll sign it,” he said.

  I grabbed hold of the envelope, but he didn’t release it. Instead, he pulled it down, bringing me with it.

  “And by all means,” he whispered, his breath falling across my cheek. “Keep underestimating me.”

  We both clutched the envelope, and I turned my eyes on him, momentarily frozen.

  So close. I wanted to pull away but couldn’t. Something swelled in my chest, and his dark eyes turned black as he held me, locked.

  You said you wanted to be hunted. God, why had I thought of that after all this time? I almost closed my eyes at the memory.

  His smell, his mouth, his body pressing into mine…. He was as cold as ice all the time.

  Until he wanted it. I knew just how greedy he could get then.

  The pulse between my legs began throbbing, and I yanked the envelope out of his hands and stood up straight.

  “Can I do anything else for you, Mr. Mori?”

  He dropped his hand to the armrest and appeared to focus back on the card game. “Go restock towels for the guests in the pool.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “I’m not here to wait on your friends.”

  “You’re here for me and whatever I tell you to do.” He pinned me with a warning look. “Unless you want to go back to Thunder Bay and tell Gabriel you broke the contract.”

  Yeah, you might just love that, huh? You’ve got the keys and codes to the hotel, haven’t signed the contract yet, and the blame would fall on me for breaking the deal.

  Holding Kai’s glare, I stalked out of the room, hearing Michael’s voice behind me. “They’re in the hallway closet upstairs!”

  I gritted my teeth, seething as chuckles drifted out of the room behind me. Fuckers.

  Rounding the corner, I slipped in between people, and grabbed hold of the railing, climbing the stairs quickly. I wasn’t in any hurry to be of service, but I wanted out of here, and as soon as they got their damn towels, I was leaving with or without his permission.

/>   The music downstairs faded, and I reached the top, a large open area full of TVs, couches, and a few people greeted me.

  I continued down the hallway, in the dark, opening a few doors to find a couple bedrooms, a bathroom, and an office, before opening another and finally finding shelves of bedding and towels neatly stacked. I started plucking out as many towels as I could carry.

  “Hi.”

  I jumped, my breath catching in my throat. The young woman from the poker game earlier peeked around the open door, her hand on her hip.

  “I’m Alex,” she told me.

  “I know who you are.”

  I grabbed one more towel and added it to the stack in my arm.

  “I’ll take that as a good thing.”

  Take it however you like.

  “I can’t believe Rika tolerates your presence,” I said, closing the closet door. “How many of her guests are you making clients tonight?”

  But to my surprise, she laughed. “Not working tonight, actually.”

  A twinkle lit up her eyes, and I had to hand it to her. I’d been purposefully rude, but she rolled with it like a champ.

  “And Rika likes having me everywhere,” she taunted, leaning in. “She thinks I’m a good kisser.”

  Yeah, okay.

  “Women are typically better kissers in my experience, anyway,” she continued, giving me a look up and down that suddenly made me hyper-aware. “I mean, men have no idea what to do with their tongues.” She laughed. “I charge them extra for the kissing.”

  My mind drifted back to when I’d kissed Kai, and the nerves under my skin sparked to life. Kai definitely knew what to do with his tongue.

  Alex went on, rolling her eyes. “It’s either, I’m an ice cream cone”—she closed her eyes and licked the air, grunting and making exaggerated movements with her tongue—“or it’s like tornado-fucking-alley with that thing.” And again, she closed her eyes, making circles in the air with her tongue and demonstrating a cyclone. “It’s like, I’m sorry. Am I supposed to need a bib when I kiss you?”

  She winced, and I couldn’t help but breathe out a little laugh. Thank goodness I hadn’t had the same misfortune. I’d probably be tempted to bite anything stuck in my mouth that wasn’t pleasant to be there.