Play My Game (Stark Trilogy, #3.7)(19)

Fortunately, we’re not yet to Santa Monica, so we abandon PCH once we reach the Getty Villa and Highway 27, and careen through the hills toward the 101 Freeway.

We arrive right before Jamie, who is squealing to a stop in front of our old building. She’s in the Ferrari that Damien and I gave her as a going-away present, and I know damn well that she pushed that machine to the limit to get here that fast. I know, because we did the same thing.

“Ryan’s here,” Damien says, nodding toward a Mercedes parked at an odd angle across the street.

“He’s gonna kill him.” Jamie is hurrying toward us. Her eyes are red and her makeup blotchy. “I’ve never seen him so mad.”

“He has reason to be,” Damien says darkly. “Come on.”

The building entrance is enclosed now, thanks to Damien’s contribution to building security, but Jamie has the key code. She taps it in, and we three hurry inside, then up the stairs to Douglas’s condo, right next door to the one Jamie and I used to share.

Damien tries the knob, then pounds on the door when he finds it locked. “Dammit, Ryan. Open up.”

Jamie joins him in pounding. “Hunter! Open the door!”

For a moment, we hear nothing. Then the door opens, and I see Ryan, looking completely wrecked.

Immediately, Jamie launches herself at him. He catches her, then holds her close as she sobs against him.

Ryan meets Damien’s eyes, and I can almost hear the question that is passing between them—Did you do something I’m going to have to clean up?

And, yes, Damien would clean it up—of that much I’m certain. If Ryan Hunter beat the shit out of Douglas the Sex Tape Prick, Damien would do everything in his power to see that Ryan not only got off easy, but that the women of this city threw him a f*cking parade.

For a moment, Ryan doesn’t move. Then he just shakes his head before stepping aside, silently letting us pass.

Inside, Douglas is on the sofa clutching his stomach, his face so drained of blood it is almost translucent. “Fucker kicked the shit out of me.”

“And you deserved it,” Damien says.

“I didn’t do it,” Douglas says. “Kung fu boy there says I threatened to sell a tape of me and Jamie to TMZ or some such shit, but it ain’t true, man.”

“Bullshit,” Jamie says. She looks stronger now, and although she’s still holding tight to Ryan’s hand, she’s standing on her own, and her face is on fire with anger. “You made that thing without telling me. You really think I’m going to believe your bullshit now?”

“Hey, it’s true. I don’t know how anyone got their hands on that file. Musta hacked my computer or something, because it wasn’t me. I mean, shit, my whole life’s about getting *. How much do you think I’m gonna get if word gets out I’m taping chicks without their knowledge?”

“How much * are you going to get in jail, you sick perv?” Jamie retorts.

“Jesus, f*ck. Shit.” He drags his hands through his hair, making it stand on end. “This isn’t on me. Christ, I swear.”

In an instant, Ryan is across the room. He has Douglas by the collar and hauls him to his feet. Douglas looks so terrified that I’m surprised he hasn’t pissed himself.

For a moment, no one in the room breathes. Then Ryan tosses him back down. “You’re not even worth it,” he says, then turns away. He walks toward the door, taking Jamie’s hand as he does, and wordlessly leaves.

I start to follow, but then stop when I see Damien lagging behind. He meets the other man’s eyes and says, very slowly and very calmly, “I’m going to find out who threatened to leak that tape, and if it comes back to you, that kick in the gut will seem like a gentle kiss good night compared to the hell I will put you through. Do we understand each other?”

If I’d thought that Douglas was pale before, I’d been seriously wrong. I watch now as every last bit of blood fades from his face. He starts to nod, but Damien has already turned away; he’s made his point.

Once we are on the sidewalk with Ryan and Jamie, Damien puts his arm around Jamie’s shoulder, then meets Ryan’s eyes. “I’ll pay.”

“Damien, no!” Jamie’s protest is fast and sounds sincere, but Damien barely even acknowledges that she’s spoken. Instead, he’s looking straight at me. I swallow, grateful that he jumped to protect Jamie, but at the same time hating the fact that he is breaking from his usual pattern. Because Damien Stark is not a man who gives in to this kind of bullshit. Or, at least, he wasn’t before I entered his life.

“There’s no point in risking that tape getting out. I said I’ll pay.” He shifts his attention to Ryan. “That’s final.”

Ryan nods.

“But—” Jamie’s protest dies as Damien turns back to me.

“We’re leaving.”

I give Jamie a quick hug, and hear her whisper, “Don’t let him do it,” but Damien tugs me away before I can respond. He opens the car door for me without saying a word, then gets in on his side. Immediately, the car is full of the power of his rage, and when he grips the steering wheel, I see that his knuckles are white.

I open my mouth to say something, then close it again. I understand why he is angry—hell, I’m angry, too. More than that, I understand his need to lash out. To push through. To figure out a way to get on top of this and say “f*ck you” to the world.