Playing Dirty (Risky Business, #2)(74)

“Play along,” he hissed in my ear, taking me by surprise. “We’re being watched.”

Play along? Part of me felt utterly relieved. Ryker wasn’t going to kill me. The other part of me was still terrified, and now, furious. First, he’d all but said he was going to sleep with Branna so she’d trust him again, then he’d agreed to kill me to cement his position with Leo. Had he known the gun was empty? How could he possibly have been sure? And now he wanted me to play along in this deadly game? No problem.

When we got to the top, I took a deep breath, praying I did this right.

Whipping my head back into his chin, I shoved his knife hand down while I spun away and out of immediate danger. Remembering what Parker had said about disabling your attacker, I struck, just like he’d taught me to. A sharp jab to the solar plexus, then a knee in the nuts.

A grunt of pain told me I’d made good contact and both his hands dropped from me.

“Give Branna and Leo my regards,” I hissed, then didn’t waste any more time, but turned and ran for the front of the building and burst through the door.

The dim sunlight outside was like a spotlight compared to the murky confines of the bar. Wanting to get away as quickly as possible, I climbed into the truck, feeling more lost and more alone than I’d ever felt in my life. It had been a huge mistake to come here. Ryker was in deep with men who’d kill me without thinking twice. If that gun hadn’t been empty of bullets, we might both be dead.

I couldn’t handle this. Couldn’t handle a cop boyfriend who had to go to lengths like cheating on me and pretending he’d kill me for his job—if he’d been pretending and it hadn’t been just luck that the gun wasn’t loaded. It had seemed so real, the coldly calculating way he’d looked at me before pulling the trigger. I’d never imagined he could so utterly become someone else like that.

He could go to hell, for all I cared. I was going to do what I could to say alive. Which meant getting the hell out of Chicago.

*

I pulled into my parents’ house an hour later. It was a relief to be home. A place I finally felt safe after the last few days. I’d completely forgotten to buy one of those “burner” phones Parker had said he was going to buy, but couldn’t bring myself to care.

Schultz met me at the door. Our driver for as long as I could remember, he seemed surprised to see me, but he recovered quickly.

“Miss Sage,” he said. “How good to have you home.”

“Thanks,” I said, mustering up a smile.

“I’ll let Rita know you’re here,” he said. “Do you have any bags?”

“No, but thanks.” I handed him the keys to the truck and he looked dubious at the ancient relic, but I was too tired and disheartened to explain as I brushed past him into the foyer.

My bedroom was upstairs and that’s where I went. The queen-size bed still overlaid with a sky-blue coverlet gave me a measure of comfort to be somewhere familiar.

I took a shower in my bathroom and dressed in sweat pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. My feet were bare as I padded downstairs to the kitchen. Whatever Rita was cooking smelled mouthwatering and I followed the aroma.

“About time you came home for a visit,” Rita admonished the moment she saw me. I gave her a hug.

“Good to see you, too,” I said with affection. She squeezed me tight despite her gruff greeting.

“I have fresh linguine for dinner,” she said, “and clam sauce.”

“Sounds amazing,” I replied, letting her go. I headed for the wine cellar, choosing a bottle at random and bringing it back upstairs to uncork. Rather than let the red breathe, I poured a glass immediately and took a long swallow as Rita looked on with disapproval.

“Your father drinks like that when he’s having business problems,” she observed, stirring a pot of creamy sauce.

“Yeah, well, it must run in the family,” I said.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” What was there to say? Too much to tell and too sad of an ending to bother.

She nodded, staying quiet. I loved that about Rita. Whereas my mother would keep at me like a dog with a bone, Rita would hold her peace until I was ready to talk.

“You and Schultz sticking around even though my parents are gone?” I asked.

“Well, I’d thought about driving down to Bloomington to see Jeffrey and the girls.” Jeffrey was her son. He was divorced with two children. “But now that you’re here—”

“No, don’t even finish that sentence,” I interrupted. “I’ll be fine. I can manage here by myself. You go on and visit Jeffrey. Are you driving yourself?”

“Well, Schultz was going to go, since you know it makes me nervous to drive by myself, but I hate to leave you here alone.”

“Stop it,” I admonished her. “I’m a grown woman. I live alone, for goodness’ sake. You’ll make me feel guilty if you don’t go.”

It took a few more reassurances that no, I wouldn’t starve if she left and yes, I didn’t mind being alone, before she agreed to not change her plans.

I made her sit and eat with me when dinner was ready, but Schultz refused. He was old-school, maintaining that there should be a respectful distance between employer and employee, but Rita’d had a soft spot for me since the day I was born, so she was easy to persuade.