“Go fucking sit your ass down,” he snarled, then turned to order a coffee.
I wanted to walk right out of the casino just to prove I could. But I’d seen this motherfucker kill people, and I wasn’t about to be next on his hit list. When it came to morals, he had none. He killed when it suited him. Damn him, why was he messing with Nan? I’d had it under control.
Because he was the mean son of a bitch that he was, and I was positive he was carrying a concealed gun, I sat down like I was told, even if it made me feel like a complete pussy to do it. This was part of the job Captain hadn’t prepared me for: dealing with commands. I didn’t like it much. Not at all, really.
Cope stalked over to me, one of his killer looks on his face. He was supremely pissed at me. I didn’t defend myself or speak. I just waited for him to say something.
He took his time about it, putting his coffee down and scanning the surroundings before finally looking at me. “I told you I have her. I’m getting what we need. I’ll send you to DeCarlo and let him put your stubborn ass somewhere else if that’s what needs to be done. I give the orders. You follow them. You don’t make up your own mind.”
“I want to talk to her” was all I said in response to his rant.
He glared at me. “Why?”
Because . . . because I wanted my mark back. I wanted to prove I could do this. I fucking wanted to be the one in her room at night. Not crazy-as-hell Cope. “She trusts me. I can get what we need.”
Cope let out an amused laugh. “She doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t even like you anymore. But she trusts me.”
How the hell could she trust him? He’d just “met” her. He was reading Nan all wrong. “You’re a rebound for her. I hurt her, and she’s using you. She doesn’t trust you. It’s me she needs, and it’s me she’ll talk to.”
Cope’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like what I had just said, but I could tell he hadn’t thought of that.
I liked knowing that I had one up on him. I understood something he hadn’t taken into account. So I kept up. “She just met you. She doesn’t know enough about you to trust you. If she’s fucking you, it’s because she wants to get back at me. Nothing more. Has nothing to do with you. And you won’t have anything to do with her after she leaves here.”
I wanted to believe every word I was saying. I would once I saw her and talked to her.
“I need to see her. If we want to keep this up, I have to fix things with her.”
Cope didn’t reply. I could tell he was thinking about it, and he didn’t like it one bit. That surprised me. I didn’t expect him to fight me so hard on this. To him, she was just a source for answers. Right?
“This is a job to you, isn’t it? I mean, she didn’t get to you, did she?” I had to hand it to myself; asking a man like Cope something like that took balls. Fucking ginormous balls.
He shot me a withering look, then stood up. “Talk to her. I’ll be watching. If she wants to continue this shit with you, then go for it, but do it motherfucking right this time. I need my answers before this trail gets cold.”
I started to say more, but he turned and walked off without another word.
I won. I got the girl back and would get the info and complete my mission.
First, I had to get her to respond to me. I called her number this time.
She answered on the third ring. “I’ll meet you at the deli next to Starbucks in twenty minutes” was all she said before ending the call.
Smiling, I hung up and finished my coffee, while hatching a plan in my head.
Nan
Meeting with Major after my night with Gannon wasn’t something I wanted to do, but Major was apparently stalking me. I had to go deal with it. I didn’t want Major approaching me if I was out with Gannon.
I kept waiting for Gannon to call or text, but I hadn’t heard from him yet this morning. Which sucked. Maybe he was letting me sleep in?
I didn’t fuss with myself too much as I got ready to see Major. Impressing him wasn’t on my to-do list anymore. I had tried it all, and nothing I did was enough for him. No use in pulling out the goods now that I didn’t want him.
A simple short Prada sundress and a pair of my more comfortable Louboutins, and I was ready to face him. Let him say whatever bullshit he had come here to say; I’d just be sending him on his way the moment he was finished. He could go back to whoring around Rosemary Beach, and I could go back to Gannon and Vegas life. I liked Vegas life. A whole lot.
I knew the back of his head and the way he stood from admiring him so much in the past. He was ridiculously pretty, but God, he was an asshole. I was done with all that. Besides, I didn’t need to date a man who was quite possibly prettier than me.
When he heard the click of my heels, he straightened and turned to face me. That easy, charming smile that won him whatever he wanted spread across his face, and for once, I didn’t want to slap it or kiss it. I was just done with it. That was a relief. One I needed. The knowledge made the moment much less dreadful.
“You look gorgeous,” he said. He put his hand on my waist and pulled me closer to kiss me, but I stepped away. We weren’t on those terms. Not surprising that he’d think that was all it would take to get us there.