Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,9
places it on the desk beside his thigh, then he takes my second hand, and holds them both in his. “Prima, I did not mean your dancing was bad. Au contraire, you were infallible. I just mean, seeing you dance for other men when I want you all for myself…” He makes a tut-tut in the back of his throat. “If I could have you, I would keep you all for me. You would no longer need to dance for scraps.”
“Oh.” My voice comes out on a barely concealed squeak, and my brow shoots up high.
But then his mirrors mine – and when he does it, it’s not surprise, but threat.
I cover my mistake with a hiss, a lift of my shoulder, an “ouch” that is fairly convincing, considering how much it hurts like a bitch after my set. “My shoulder,” I try to explain by moving my hands in his. I subtly put the blame on him, on his embrace, and shrug out of it. “I injured my shoulder a little while ago, and it’s still healing. It’s inflamed after tonight, and I tweaked it just now.”
“Have you been to the hospital, Prima?” I have to give credit where credit is due. He looks genuinely concerned about my pain. “I could take care of the bill they send.”
No, because I have no legal ID, and a fake name, dummy! “I saw a nurse,” I smoothly lie. Strangely, Jamie’s sister’s face flashes through my mind. “There is nothing to be done except alternate between hot and cold compresses, and rest.”
“And the prognosis?”
“I was assured it would heal itself in due time.” Lie, lie, lie. “As long as I keep the compresses and anti-inflammatories up, and so long as I take care while dancing, it will be fine.”
He gently pulls me closer until my pelvis hits his hardened crotch, and his lips cruise over my naked shoulder. Tenderness, I swear that’s what he intends.
“This news brings me happiness.”
I think, if he could shed the mafioso thing he has going, the suits, the money, the bastard accent, he could probably be a decent, attentive guy.
Someone else’s guy. Because all I feel when his lips touch my skin is disgust.
I can dance for men and accept their money with a smile. I don’t feel cheap or dirty when I’m standing on that stage in front of dozens of onlookers. But standing here, between Evan’s legs, while he tries to comfort me… it makes my stomach roll.
I could be his whore. I could be kept in a life of luxury, to never worry again, to not have to run my poor shoulder through a proverbial meat grinder three to five nights a week. And it would be easy, in theory. Money, status, baubles, and protection, all for the low, low price of a romp in bed and an innocent lie about my virginity.
But that’s not who I am.
I’m broke as hell, I’m in a world of trouble about a lot of things, and my heart… it’s merely dust. A cavern where something alive and beautiful once lived. I have nothing left, except perhaps my pride. And I’m not willing to sell it. Not even for the safety Evan could provide.
“I got word on that thing you asked of me.” His fingertips flutter along my sensitized skin. “It makes me curious why you ask questions about another man.” He tilts his head to the side to give an illusion of innocence. A puppy. Not dangerous. But it’s the farthest thing from the truth. “Jake Williams was a twenty-two-year-old man with a spotty past and what we call… I suppose…” He pauses to give himself time to think. “Post-It flags on his file that aren’t very pleasing.”
“But you found his file?” Maybe my heart isn’t complete dust. There is one more human that it beats for. “You know what it says?”
“It says he went into hiding years ago, when he became a wanted felon. A murderer.”
“But that’s not true,” I blurt. “It’s not…”
I swallow when Evan’s brows lift at my outburst. “I mean to say, he didn’t kill that man. He didn’t do it, but they’re trying to say he did.”
“How do you know this?” he questions quietly. “And why do you care so much?”
“Jake Williams is…”
Lie, and potentially mess it all up? Or tell the truth, and give Evan a foothold in my world?
“Um…”
There’s an honor system among criminals, right? A blanket rule that one criminal would not rat another out.