A Chip and a Chair (Seven of Spades, #5)(77)

Dominic glanced sideways. Levi had his eyes shut now, and Dominic might have thought he was sleeping, if not for the fact that his body was more tense than before.

“There’s something else, something that’s been bothering me for a year.” Dominic rubbed Rebel’s silky ear to keep himself calm. “Matthew Goodwin had skipped bail and was on the run. How could you possibly have earned his trust enough for him to bring you back to his hideout and give you a chance to drug his beer?”

Only half of Natasha’s face was visible from Dominic’s vantage point, but that was enough for him to see the cruel smile that curved her lips.

“Here’s the thing about rapists like Goodwin,” she said. “They don’t view women as real people, not the way they view themselves. To them, women are two-dimensional objects, no more than projections of their own desires. So if a pretty redhead were to bump into a man like that at a gas station, and giggle and flirt and be so impressed by his bullshit story about being on the run from a dangerous gang he pissed off with his badassery-well, he’d take her right back to his safe house to milk that for all it was worth. He could never even fathom that she might be any kind of threat to him. Idiot.”

That last word was said with a rich satisfaction that bordered on glee. Levi flinched against the door.

Dominic settled his free hand on Levi’s thigh, deciding to endure the silence after all. But only moments later, Levi opened his eyes and spoke.

“How’d you get into our apartments?”

Natasha scoffed. “It’s pretty easy to break into an apartment, if you have the right tools. We’re not talking Fort Knox.”

“You know I don’t mean last summer, when you planted those surveillance devices.” Straightening up, Levi laced his fingers through Dominic’s and gripped tightly. “I mean after we installed extra locks and wireless security systems, and you still managed to get in without problems. How’d you do it?”

Natasha didn’t answer. Dominic could see her knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

“An explanation is the least of what you owe him,” said Martine, low and threatening.

With a jerky nod, Natasha asked, “Do you remember that night you got so drunk at Stingray that Dominic called me to take you home?”

“I . . .” Levi shifted in his seat. “I remember that it happened. The night itself, not so much.”

Dominic’s memory of it was crystal clear. That had been months ago-before they’d broken up, while Rohan Chaudhary was in town. Levi had been in a dark place, angry and frustrated over the Seven of Spades investigation, and his drinking had gotten out of control when he’d visited Dominic at work. With Martine busy, Natasha had been the next best option to handle him. Or so Dominic had thought.

“You had to tell me the alarm code for us to get into your apartment.” The car sped up, as if it was absorbing Natasha’s unease. “We were joking around about Dominic having set it for sixty-nine squared, and when I asked you if he used the same one, you said no-and told me the code he did use.”

Levi palmed his face.

“Then I saw your keys and his together on your key ring, and I knew I’d never get a better chance. So . . . I put ketamine in your water.”

“You did what?” Levi gasped, dropping his hand. Rebel’s ears twitched anxiously back and forth.

“It knocked you out, which gave me enough time to run the keys down to the nearest shop and get them copied. You never knew I was gone.”

“So that’s why my hangover was so bad the next day? Because you fucking drugged me?”

“It was just a small amount!” Natasha shot back. “If you hadn’t already been drunk, it wouldn’t even have been enough to get you high. You weren’t in any danger.”

“You psychotic-”

“Okay.” Dominic squeezed Levi’s hand, dragging Levi’s attention back to himself. “Remember what you said earlier about this not being productive? I’m sorry I started us down this road to begin with. I thought it might help to get some things out in the open, but I was wrong.”

It makes everything way worse.

Levi subsided, but the air around him was crackling with angry tension rather than the melancholy he’d been wrapped up in earlier. Dominic found the change oddly heartening; under these circumstances, angry Levi would be stronger and more resilient than sad Levi.

Nobody spoke again until they reached Natasha’s self-storage complex. Dominic understood why she’d chosen it-the building was in an isolated spot, out on the eastern fringes of North Las Vegas, and the area around it was mostly undeveloped. Large, empty lots on either side buffered the complex from its neighbors; the entire swath of land across the street was desert scrub that extended at least a quarter-mile. The parking lot lacked any kind of security system or surveillance cameras.

Natasha parked in the corner, though there was nobody else in sight. The main office was locked up, a CLOSED sign hanging in the window.

As they got out of the car, Levi pulled Dominic aside, leaving Martine to keep an eagle eye on Natasha. He lifted a hand to the bandages on Dominic’s head.

“What happened?” he asked, quietly enough that the others wouldn’t be able to hear.

“A concussion from the car accident. It’s not a big deal.”