Page 5 of Play The Game

“Fifty grand. It’s the smallest job, so I left it until last.”

He nods and settles back in his seat, his attention shifting to keep watch even as he grabs my hand. I blush and try to keep my own focus fixed on the drug addict. Harley traces his thumb along my knuckles absently, a quiet peace settling around us that I’m almost desperate to keep.

He can clearly read me like a book, giving me a careful look before he finally murmurs, “I’m not going to lose my shit, but we need to talk. Or will that distract you?”

Ugh, fuck. I guess there’s really no way out of this. I sigh. “Is this about Illi or the Jackal?”

He lets out a long breath of his own. “Both of them. I know who you are. I know enough about this world to know it’s not fair of me to ask you to stay the fuck away from the Jackal, but seeing him touch you and knowing how much he scares you was fucking bad, Mounty.”

I swallow around the lump at the back of my throat. “I know. I’m… I’m taking care of it. Illi is part of that.”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer me because the dealer finally arrives. My spine snaps straight and I pull the camera up on my phone. The mark is directly in front of the car, across the street at the back of an empty lot, but the photos I get are clear enough to show what’s going down. The guy isn’t subtle, but the outrageous price I’m being paid isn’t really because of the legwork this took or how hard it is to find this asshole scoring his dope. He’s so far gone he would buy it in front of his own mother. The price tag is entirely down to how high the risk of being caught is, and the consequences I’d face from it.

Harley waits until I’m checking the shots before he continues. “How did you meet the Butcher?”

I wince. “I hate that name for him.”

Harley grunts at me. “That’s who he is; he fucking mutilates people.”

I cut him a look. “He also saved both our asses. He’s… the same as I am. He came into this life unintentionally but with a set of highly sought-after skills. When I told him I’d applied to Hannaford, he helped me get out, he helped me remove myself from Mounts Bay, and then he cut off all contact with me so I’d have a fucking chance at getting clear. He’s a good guy.”

Harley looks at me like I’m challenging his very moral system, then his eyes slide away from me and he snaps, “Fuck. We’re made.”

I dart my gaze over to find the dealer, one of the Jackal’s men I know and who most definitely knows me, is now stalking over to the car, and I move without really thinking it through. I lean forward to grab the release on Harley’s seat to push it back. He inhales sharply as I climb over to kneel on the floor between his knees and crouch awkwardly under the steering wheel. His eyes widen and he swears viciously as I fumble to get his belt unbuckled and his pants undone. I can feel his dick getting hard as my hand brushes against him even as he protests.

“Mounty—” he hisses, and I cut him a look.

“I’m not going to fucking suck your dick to get out of this, but I am going to pretend. How are your acting skills?” I whisper, and before he can answer, there’s a knock at the window.

I blanche a little—because, really, am I going to bob my head and fake this properly? Harley, thankfully noticing me hesitate, grabs a fistful of my hair and twists it around his wrist, before winding the window down a few inches.

“I paid good fucking green for this slut. How about you fuck off and let me enjoy my money’s worth before I get angry, dickhead?” Harley drawls, becoming the arrogant asshole from school once again.

I can’t move with the grip he has on my hair, thank God. I can smell the cigarettes and weed on Reggie from where I’m crouched. He’s a fucking creep, and I have to hold in a repulsed shiver at his close proximity. Thankfully, the steering wheel hides most of the skin I’m showing, and he won’t be able to see or recognize the scars.

“What’s a guy like you doing down here, anyway? If you can afford the ’67 Rector, you can afford better pussy than what the slum girls have on offer.”

Harley chuckles under his breath and replies, “More expensive doesn’t mean better. No one sucks like the slum girls.”

Reggie waits a second and then laughs. “Yeah, and you can smack them around if they don’t. I bet those high-class girls cry if you’re too rough with them. All good, man, enjoy your time with her. Maybe I’ll find her myself later, see if that mouth is as good as you say.”

Harley grunts and rolls the window up. His tight grip loosens a little, but when I glance up at his face, he’s watching Reggie leave. His hand doesn’t drop away until Reggie is back in his own car and driving away. He looks fucking pissed, so I try to distract him.

“You might be disappointed with this Mounty pussy. I haven’t exactly been broken in like the others, and I might be a shit lay.”

Harley’s eyes flash as he hauls me up and into his lap awkwardly, thanks to the steering wheel. “Don’t fucking compare yourself to them, and to be real fucking clear, I haven’t ever been disappointed with you. I’m not gonna be either.”

He sounds even more like a street kid away from Hannaford, and I grin back at him even as I blush. “We’ll see.”

He smirks lasciviously at me. “Fuck yeah, we will.”

I’m starving by the time we get back to the townhouse and my stomach rumbles loudly as we walk up the front steps together, hand in hand. Blushing like an idiot, I fumble around to get the door open, and Harley huffs out a chuckle, but I can barely get my thoughts straight, let alone string enough words together to snark back at him. I’m running on fumes, and he’s too hot for words, but the bundle of nerves in my gut I’ve had for weeks has finally eased up a little now he’s here with me again.

When his hands grip my hips to steer me into the house, Harley grumbles about the weight I’ve lost and makes a beeline for the kitchen. It only gets worse as he rummages through the mostly empty fridge. I hate spending money on food when I know how little I need to get by, and when I stupidly say this out loud, he snaps back at me, “Well, you’re fucking eating now that I’m here.”

With a sigh, I shove a beer at him while I make us both burgers. Harley ducks back out to the car to get it parked securely in the garage once I get the remote for him, and he grabs his bags from the trunk while he’s there. I’m busy with the pans on the stove when he gets back and dumps them unceremoniously in the living room, tucking them behind one of the couches next to mine. There are no closets in either of the bedrooms, and I got sick of tripping over them real fast, but I still wanted everything I needed to be easily accessible, so this was the perfect spot. The place isn’t some ritzy mansion but it’s absolutely ideal for what we need. The kitchen, dining, and living room are all one space, and the two bedrooms are connected by the bathroom. The downstairs area is made up entirely of the double garage.

I set the plates on the table, and it only takes me a second to grab more beer, this time for us both. I’m not really a fan, but I need something to soften my edges tonight. My senses are all the Wolf right now, the conditioning to hold onto that shield is a little too ingrained to slip easily into the only version of me that Harley really knows. He can clearly sense something is off with me, throwing careful looks like he’s feeling me out, but I focus on getting us both fed.