Page 98 of Property of Rattler

“The club girls are women,” I tell him. “They might be there to be used, but they deserve respect too.” I raise my brow as if to challenge him.

He finishes his burrito, wipes his mouth and then his fingers on one of the napkins that I’m surprised to see have been supplied—Pippa’s doing I suspect. The lines on his forehead deepen into a V. He tenses, then shudders, “I guess I was pushing them, just like everyone else.”

“That’s unfair,” I snipe. “They weren’t in a position to refuse you.”

His eyes close briefly. “Guess I was an ass.”

I go to agree, when a knock sounds on the door again. It’s not the tentative one the prospect used, but one which demands entry. And, without waiting for permission, the knob turns and the door opens.

Rat tries to stand, Bullseye waves him down. His eyes go between both of us, examining us one by one, before finally landing on me. “Half expected to find Rat dead by now,” he quips.

Quick as a flash I retort, “They didn’t bring any knives with breakfast.”

His stare lingers, then the sides of his mouth curve. “Lucky escape.”

Rattler, stunned for a moment, laughs. “Guess I better thank Dee for his forethought.”

Bullseye chuckles too, then sobers. He moves toward the bed, sits on the edge, then leans setting his elbows on his knees, and linking his hands. “I bring news. Some good, some not so much.” Both Rattler and I give him quizzical glances. “I spoke to the Russians. The Pakhan wasn’t surprised when I told him about the skimming at the casino, I reckon he’d been turning a blind eye.”

Rattler breathes out, as I ask, “So it’s over?” Air from my lungs comes out in a whoosh.

“Not exactly. He said he needed to pull all the facts together and consider his next course of action. Volkov’s apparently gone underground.” Bullseye’s face looks grim.

I see Rattler clench his teeth, but in my view that doesn’t sound bad. “That’s good news, isn’t it? He’s more worried about his life than me.”

Bullseye shakes his head, his eyes tighten, and his mouth twists. “Volkov is a cornered rat. His source of illicit gains has been shut off. He’s a man for whom money means all, and now he’s got to disappear. It would be mighty convenient if he could kidnap an heiress.” He raises his eyes and subjects me to a stare that could freeze ice in a desert. “So, no, Ames. It’s not over. I suspect he’ll be more determined to get his hands on you.”

Rattler’s hand reaches over the table. The movement catches my eye, and I don’t miss the pleading in his. Right now, I need his tactile support. I push mine out, and grasp his, feeling immeasurably better as his fingers tighten around mine.

“We’ll protect you, Ames.”

“We will,” Bullseye confirms. “We’ll track this asshole down. Whether or not you and Rat are a thing, you’ve got the protection of the Kings.”

Whether or not me and Rattler are a thing?My stomach roils. Not was what I wanted yesterday. After Trixie gave me her opinion last night, and with how Rattler’s been behaving this morning, I’m having second thoughts about leaving. But that’s not a discussion to be had in front of his prez.

“Ames.” Bullseye’s tone is deliberate and serious, demanding my attention. I focus my eyes on him. “Kings aren’t going to hold you to our arrangement. We’ll relinquish the claim on your inheritance.”

My eyes open wide. “So why are you helping me?”

“Because we’re Kings. And nobody fucks with us. And, whatever decision you make, or however briefly, you’re one of ours.”

I think my jaw has just dropped to the floor.

“If I have my way, she’ll be here permanently.” Rattler says the words as if they’re a vow.

Ignoring him, Bullseye still has his eyes on me. “Don’t worry about going in front of a judge. If you want your marriage annulled, we can erase the records as if they’d never been. Just say the word.” Then, with that parting shot, he stands. He leaves the room as I’m still sitting with an open mouth.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

RATTLER

Prez has put it out there. He told Ames how easy it would be to make our marriage disappear. That’s the complete opposite of what I want. Maybe it’s when you’re on the verge of losing something, you realise how important it is. I want to keep her, make our marriage real — there’s never been a person who mattered so much to me in my life, including my brothers. But I’m not going to start with lies, or hold back information that, while hard to hear, might help her.

When the door closes behind Bullseye, I jump in before she’s time to consider his offer. “We spoke at length to your brother before…”

“Before you killed him.” Her voice is toneless.

I draw in a breath. “He wasn’t your full brother. He was your half brother.”