Risk It All E-Book

Scarlett Finn

• Herausgeber: Moriona Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Ex-con, Blaser Warner, has worked hard to put his past behind him. Building up his businesses and mending family bridges, he's finally got his life back on track.

Brianna Wilcox was devastated when her heart was broken by her only love going to prison. Determined to carry on, she uprooted her life and cut all ties from her past. After suffering a horrific ordeal years later, she shuts herself off from the world. To recover from the horror she endured, Bri knows that there's only one place she needs to be: home.

Blaser couldn't stay away when he heard that Brianna was back in town. But being around her again provokes old feelings. When Bri's associations bring trouble to her door, old habits die hard. Blaser rallies to protect her.

All the promises he made are in jeopardy. The life he's built is threatened when he has to fight battles he thought he'd left behind. But for Brianna? He'll risk it all.

Warning: Contains explicit language and imagery. Suitable only for ages 18 and over.
 

Leseprobe

Copyright © 2015, 2021 Scarlett Finn

Published by Moriona Press 2015, 2021

All rights reserved.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

First published in 2015

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form on by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.scarlettfinn.com

RISQUÉ SERIES

Take a Risk

Risk It All

Game of Risk

For other titles from Scarlett Finn, please read on after the story.

Click here if you’d like to leave a message for Scarlett.

Enjoy!

For Papa

A story of first love.

Thanks go to my best friend, I should thank you more than I do. We take each other for granted, but nothing is forever. One day, too soon, goodbye will come. Let us savour each day until then and survive on the memories when we are alone again.

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

PROLOGUE

As a kid, Brianna Wilcox struggled to make good choices. Perhaps because, back then, she left so many decisions up to her brother and now-ex-boyfriend. Their actions frequently got her embroiled in some mess that was nothing to do with her. That was supposed to change when she freed herself from both of them.

Growing up with junkie parents had been tough. Her brother, Gary, got her through the difficult times until at high school, Gary met Blaser Warner, and her life had changed forever.

After Blaser made his interest in her known, she hadn’t put up much of a fight. Why would she? Hot in all the right ways; bad in all the others. For a teenager, the prize didn’t get any more enticing. For months, they snuck around grabbing clandestine moments, worried what Gary would do when he found out they were together.

As luck would have it, they’d been discovered on a dark night when the rain was pouring and the wind was howling. The weather, and rush of their own raging hormones, hid the sound of Gary’s approach. He’d ripped open the back door of Blaser’s truck and caught them semi-naked. Denying it was impossible.

The men fought, physically fought, which left her in tears and Gary needing stitches. Watching the two men she loved fighting tore her apart. In the months that followed, the feuding increased as had her internal conflict. She had really believed it would come down to a choice between the two men and she didn’t want to make that choice.

Everything came to a head when Blaser discovered her secret. To get by after her parents took off, she’d started dancing in clubs for money. She loved the dancing but didn’t always love the patrons, especially those who tried to touch or loitered with intent outside the club.

It didn’t help that the only places willing to take her were the ones who turned a blind eye to her age. If management was happy to ignore the fact that she was only seventeen, they were also happy to feign ignorance when the men paid the dancers for intimate services.

Blaser caught her coming home from work one night. The second he registered her outfit, or lack of it, he flew off the handle, blaming Gary for their family’s need. Once again, the men were at each other’s throats.

A few days after, they’d called a truce and held a meeting… without her. The first she knew about them getting along was Blaser pulling up outside to drop Gary off. The men talked for a few minutes, then her brother came inside. That’s when she got the story: Gary was boosting the cars, Blaser was chopping them. They were going to look after her and she would never have to work again.

It was horrifying. After that she did everything in her power to talk the two out of their illegal business venture. Nothing would stop them; the alliance remained. Eventually, the men became the best of friends again and they settled into life together. Blaser and Gary did what they needed to support their trio. But it was more than that. Both of them seemed to like the money and the street cred that came with their success.

Everything had muddled along for almost a decade until Blaser was arrested. She hadn’t been present for the crime, but she had been present when the cops took him from her bed, cuffed him, and took him in. From there, he pled guilty and was sent to prison. She promised to wait for him until, a few weeks into his sentence, he called her into visiting and ended their relationship.

At the time, devastated, she tried to talk him out of it. He was adamant and went so far as to demand she get out of town, away from her brother and everyone in their lives. He told her to start over. And, not long later, that’s exactly what she did.

Picking Jersey, she’d packed and left without telling a soul. She got a job and an apartment and for a long time, lived like any other Josie on the street, nothing special. Only she knew a part of her was missing.

Five years after the relationship was over, she did the unthinkable and emailed Blaser. Much to her surprise, he emailed back, and communication began to flow. They moved onto phone calls, and she was delighted to hear he had straightened himself out and owned two legitimate businesses.

After almost six months of emails and phone calls, they’d agreed to meet. Blaser was actually going to travel up to take her out for dinner. Bri was beyond caring if it was smart for them to open the can of worms again. The idea of seeing Blaser delighted her too much.

So there she was, in the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. She had spent hours getting ready. Despite buying a new dress for the occasion, she tried on at least five others before settling on the new blue one that she’d spent too much money on.

Although she’d arrived at the restaurant early, it hadn’t been her intention to be so premature. Their meeting place was in Atlantic City, which wasn’t her neighborhood. To be sure of finding it in time, she’d chosen to leave her apartment earlier than was probably necessary. She didn’t know how long the journey would take and didn’t want to leave her date waiting.

Twenty minutes after the meeting time, he still hadn’t appeared. Worry that maybe he had changed his mind was quickly shaken off, Blaser wasn’t the type to leave her sitting there all night without any explanation.

Maybe something terrible had happened. She slid out of the booth the maître d’ had put her in and made her way outside into the cool evening air. Her jacket was still at the table, so if Blaser went into the restaurant another way he would assume she was just in the ladies’ room or something.

Her clutch was just big enough for the essentials, so she found her phone quickly. Striding away from the traffic on the street, she walked down a service alley to get away from the noise and passing foot traffic. Bowing her head close to the phone, reading her contacts, she scrolled through looking for Blaser’s number. She had just pressed send when something hot and moist closed over her mouth.

Confused terror fired adrenaline through her system when another two thick arms circled her waist and she was hoisted off the ground. Her phone skittered out of her grasp as she tried to wrench the hand away from her mouth and punch back. Flailing her legs did nothing because the man holding her waist lifted her off the ground and clamped her knees together against him. Before she could count how many assailants there were in total, she was tossed into a van. Metal grated on metal signaling the door had been closed, and screeching tires heralded movement.

Although she tried to get up from the cold metal floor, so dirty that grime smudged across her cheek, it was no good. A heavy foot landed on her ribcage and something that felt like rope was wound around her ankles and wrists. The man with his foot on her chest leaned down and stuck a strip of duct tape over her mouth.

Widening her eyes, she tried to scream at the sight of the mask concealing his face. Another masked man sat toward the back of the van; he must have been the one to bind her. Two of them were in the back with her, but with the top of her head squashed against the back base of the front seats, she couldn’t see how many there were in total.

The man standing on her chest increased his pressure then moved his foot away to sit on a seat that folded down from the van wall. He whipped off his mask to show ice-blue eyes glistening above a confident smile.

“Don’t you worry yourself, beautiful,” he said. “I’m John, and I bet you’re wondering what the fuck this is about.”

She mumbled, unable to do more. Her attempts to force out a scream were burning the back of her throat. Makeup blurred in her eyes, streams of it ran in hot rivers down her temples, some dripping into the shells of her ears.

“You did nothing wrong, but a lot of girls I pick up for the boss done nothing wrong.”

She couldn’t ask questions, but a million of them zinged through her. This wasn’t a standard street attack. The men hadn’t mugged her; they hadn’t groped her. They had grabbed her, bound her, and now she lay there in the back of this van helpless, on the road to God knew where.

“I work for a guy called Victor, does that mean anything to you?” She managed to shake her head, freeing more tears. “Doesn’t surprise me, but see, someone you know did something to piss Victor off. And when people do that, he sends me out to pick up something valuable of theirs. You’re valuable… you’re valuable to a guy who is valuable to Victor.”

How could she be associated with anyone connected to something like this? Her mind came up blank. Gary and Blaser were the only two people from her life involved in anything illegal. It had been years since she’d been a part of that world. Unless… could the fact she was talking to Blaser make her valuable to him in a way that might upset this Victor guy. She couldn’t believe it. Blaser had promised he was legitimate. He was a business owner mending bridges with his brothers, a real respectable guy.

“What you come up with?” The guy bent lower. His grin made her recoil, she couldn’t believe he was grinning. It wasn’t like he enjoyed the moment, he seemed indifferent to his own words, yet his grin was smug. “I’ll give you a clue,” he said. She held her breath in anticipation, hoping she could put all this down to a misunderstanding. “Does the name Warner mean anything to you?” Her hope sank. “Ruger Warner?”

Shock struck her immobile. Ruger was Blaser’s younger brother. He’d always been the secretive type, but not in an illegal activity type way. Yet there she was, bound and gagged because Blaser’s little brother pissed off a crime boss. No misunderstanding. She knew Ruger, and he’d delivered her into something far more sinister than anything she, Blaser, or Gary had ever been a part of. How the hell would this end?

CHAPTER ONE

One year later

“You really don’t have to be nervous,” Lyssa said to Bri, the patient on her couch. “I know that it’s easy for me, as the therapist, to say that, but I promise you won’t be judged here.”

“Blaser seemed to think it was a good idea for me to talk to you,” Bri said. “He keeps mentioning you in conversation and well, I want to get him off my back, that’s why I came.”

“It’s a start,” Lyssa said with a smile and put her pen on the table next to her armchair. “Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Blaser?”

“How much time do you have?” Bri asked, examining the rug on the floor between them.

The brunette doctor was confident and gregarious. Although her intrigue was subdued, Bri could feel Doctor Cutler’s genuine desire to get to the root of the problem. Being in the unfamiliar space of the immaculate doctor’s office, Bri wasn’t sure what to expect, which made her nervous. One thing she could talk about without any fear was Blaser Warner, the ex-boyfriend she’d once been in a relationship with for more than ten years.

“Blaser and my brother went to high school together, that’s how we met,” Bri said. “We started dating and kept on dating until Blaser went to prison.”

“When he was twenty-eight?”

Bri nodded. “That was six and a half years ago. Almost as soon as he got there, he broke up with me. He called me into visiting and told me that was it, we were over.”

“Had you ever broken up before?”

“Here and there, you know, for a few weeks, just over stupid things. But we were never with other people,” Bri said, rubbing her pinkie finger while she tried to think of a way to even up the playing field in the intimidating situation. “You’re going to marry Blaser’s brother? Colt never liked me. But I guess he told you that.”

“Colt doesn’t know anything about my patients,” Lyssa said. “And there’s no reason to assume he needs to.”

Blaser only knew Doctor Lyssa Cutler, the sex therapist, because she was engaged to Colt, Blaser’s twin brother. Apparently, he had mentioned her trauma and Lyssa had offered to help. At first Bri was mad he’d brought up her shame with a stranger, but eventually had to admit Blaser only ever acted in her best interest. Offering up free therapy sessions with the woman soon to be his sister-in-law was his way of telling her it was okay to need help.

“Colt always thought Gary and I were the ones getting Blaser into trouble; that we were the reason for Blaser going to jail,” Bri said. “I guess he was right. They ran a chop shop together, Blaser and Gary, they stole cars and sold them for parts. It all started when we were teenagers because Blaser wanted to support me. My parents had gone, leaving Gary and me alone.”

“That must have been difficult for you.”

“Gary looked after me, and Blaser did too. I was seventeen when my parents left town. After that it was just the three of us. Their crew grew over the years and then Mattie started to dabble in his own endeavors.”

“Mattie Warner?” Lyssa asked, sitting back.

Bri looked up to see the doctor’s narrowed eyes and she couldn’t help but feel like a science project. “Yeah, Blaser’s older cousin.”

“I have never met him.”

“You won’t,” Bri said, shaking her head. “Colt hates him. Colt was the hotshot cop with the criminal cousin, he hated to admit to anyone, but everyone in the precinct knew it.”

“Let’s keep our focus on you,” Lyssa said, returning her clipboard from the side table to her lap. “You said that you and Blaser broke up six and a half years ago? How did you come to be in his life again now?”

“After he broke up with me, I moved to New Jersey to start a new life there. It was what he told me to do. Well not Jersey exactly, he said I deserved better and told me to get out there into the world to find it. So I went to Jersey and for the next five and a half years I tried to move on.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Blaser…” Bri said. Smiling, she squeezed her thighs together. “He’s not a usual type of guy. He’s powerful without being domineering and he’s sweet though he’d never show anyone but me. He’s not the type of guy a woman can just get over.”

“You pined for him?”

“I did try to move on,” Bri said, lifting her eyes to the doctor’s. “I really did, I promise, I dated other guys, but… But I was too curious about where he was and if he’d moved on… so I emailed him.”

“A year ago.”

“About that, yes,” Bri said. “We started talking on the phone and agreed to meet up.”

“What happened on the night of that date is what brings you here to me, isn’t it?”

“It didn’t go to plan. I went to the restaurant, I was waiting in there, but Blaser was late. I went outside to call him and find out where he was.”

“Can you tell me what happened?” Lyssa asked in an ever-patient voice.

“I’d rather not, you know… I’d rather not get into that in our first session.”

“Okay,” Lyssa said. “That’s completely fine and I’m glad that you were honest with me. It’s important that you are honest. You can always tell me if you’re uncomfortable with any subject, don’t ever feel under pressure.”

“Thanks. I mean, I’m sure I’ll maybe get there… though I can’t be sure, can I? But it is why I’m here, what happened that night is why I’m here.”

“I told Blaser that I would help you process that trauma and move on, that’s why he wanted you to come to me,” Lyssa said to Bri. “But we can’t expect it all to happen in one session.”

“No, I suppose not. I’ve been carrying my experience from last year with me since then. After it, I… I didn’t get in touch with Blaser. I shut myself off and stayed in Jersey. I didn’t want anything to do with anyone.”

“That’s understandable.”

“But my brother, Gary, was so worried about me, it was him that… He persuaded me to come home. He thought it was a good idea that I try to build a life for myself here, closer to home and family.”

“That’s a very good suggestion. Gary must care for you a great deal.”

“He does.”

Her brother wasn’t always the best at showing his emotions and they often manifested themselves in the wrong way. But Gary was her brother and the only family that she had left. Other than knowing her father was in prison, she had no other connection to relatives. Her mother had been AWOL ever since her father went inside.

“So you came back here?”

“Three months ago,” Bri said. “So many things have changed… but some things are just the same.”

“You mean Blaser?”

“Yeah,” Bri said. “I’m staying with a friend, at least I was until she took off ten days ago. But I’m still living in her apartment. I didn’t want to stay with Gary and get sucked into his world again. I wanted to still be independent. It would be too easy to rely on him to do everything for me.”

“That’s very sensible.”

“A few weeks ago, Blaser showed up at Erika’s door,” Bri said. Her faded smile returned when she replayed that night. After Erika answered the door and called her over, the vision of Blaser’s concerned scowl poured a warmth of familiarity into her. “We talked.”

“And you’ve been seeing each other since?”

“Not like that, not like seeing each other,” Bri said, certain she didn’t want Lyssa to get the wrong idea and pass those ideas on to her fiancé. “He’s come over a couple of times and we’ve talked. We talk on the phone. When Gary was arrested a couple of weeks ago, Blaser came straight to me, you know? He didn’t even care that I whaled on him for what happened between the two of them. He just… held me… You’re probably one of the few people who can understand what it’s like to be held by a man like Blaser. You’re marrying his twin.”

“When things are going wrong in my life, if I panic or I’m scared, there’s only one place that makes me feel better.”

“Right,” Bri agreed, thrilled that someone else could understand it. “They just make you feel like no matter what it’s going to be okay. That as long as they are there, and they can hold you…”

Her elation began to drain.

She didn’t notice the silence between her and Lyssa at first and couldn’t have verbalized the visions playing through her mind if she wanted to. All she could comprehend were the darts of ice meeting her skin as she considered the last time she’d thought like that.

“Maybe we should call time for today,” Lyssa said. “We just met this evening, and you weren’t expecting a full session. Would you like to call it quits or carry-on, Brianna?”

Snapping out of her enveloping trance, she shook her head. “No, I should probably go. I have some errands to run anyway.”

Lyssa stood up and reached for her hand. Bri bounced up off the couch.

“I’m really grateful that you chose to come here,” Lyssa said.

“I’m not sure you could say I chose it,” Bri said, trying to keep things light. “Since Gary went to jail, since you and Colt got engaged… Well, Blaser raves about you. It was very generous of you to offer your services.”

“Did you tell him that you were coming?”

“Blaser? No,” Bri said. “I wasn’t sure I was coming myself. I just… I felt awkward using the phone and I wanted to check you out for myself I guess.”

“I’m glad you did,” Lyssa said. “I know this is off the books, but would you like to make a follow-up appointment? I would like to continue working with you… there’s no harm in making the appointment, you can always cancel.”

Although reluctant to formalize the arrangement, she didn’t find it easy to say no. She’d never been the most assertive person. Perhaps that flaw stemmed from her history with Blaser and Gary. If there was a situation in which someone had to be told no, one of them always stepped in. It wasn’t a skill she had ever learned.

Still, she made an official appointment believing she could cancel it if necessary. She didn’t want to chicken out. Dealing with her trauma, processing it, was the only way to move forward.

The idea had been to come get a lay of the land, check out the doctor, and make an appointment in person. Given it was later in the day, she expected the doctor to be finished with patients. Except as soon as Lyssa answered the large front door of her townhouse, and Bri identified herself, the doctor had brought her inside, which was how they got talking.

After saying goodbye to Lyssa and getting out onto the street, she felt strangely liberated. Therapy, she’d assumed, would leave her feeling exposed and used. Instead, she was pleased to have taken another step toward recovery.

Other than picking up something for dinner, she didn’t really have any errands to run. As part of her own personal therapy plan, she bought a sandwich and went to the park to eat it. Throughout the last year, teaching herself to enjoy being outside again was tough. At first, every shadow and concealed corner seemed sinister. She had been jumpy and unwilling to turn her back to any open spaces.

A year after the event, she was much better at being outside in the open. She didn’t want to be complacent about that ease and was always careful about maintaining her schedule. So she ate her sandwich and watched a couple of squirrels in a tree before starting the long walk home.

Erika’s apartment, where she was staying, was more than an hour’s walk from Lyssa’s house. Not that she minded the exercise. With evening encroaching, getting home meant getting to bed. All she had to do was get there and then she could relax.

The moment she got to her floor, that dream evaporated. The apartment door was open. Creeping forward, she peeked in at the disaster area that was supposed to be her home. The whole place had been trashed.

Picking her way through the mess, she was standing dumbfounded when the door flew further open and banged off the wall. Startled, she pounced back and almost fell into the chaos before registering the sight of Mr. Lieberman, the apartment landlord.

“You’re gonna get your shit and get the hell out, today!”

“No. No! I’m sorry, Mr. Lieberman. I’ll have it all fixed and cleaned up. I promise that—”

“No, no more of your promises, Brianna Wilcox! You are trouble! I want you out!”

Brianna watched the short, stocky landlord pivot and steam out of the apartment she’d been sharing with Erika for three months. For all the drama swirling around her at the moment, the only mistake that she’d made herself was believing Erika had cleaned up her act.

Erika’s boyfriend had taken off six weeks ago, leaving a great big mess of trouble trying to find him; one that she and Erika had been left to deal with. Trouble, Brianna thought looking around the trashed two-bedroom apartment. Clothes were scattered everywhere, furniture was turned over, crockery broken. Yes, the place looked like trouble had rocked up, flashed its dashing smile, and strolled straight back into her life.

She used to court trouble, to seek it out. Her brother worked on the fringes of legality, so she was no stranger to cops. And Blaser… he was a bad boy straight out of every girl’s wet dream.

Bending to pick up a chair, she scanned the riot of objects scattered all over. Tidying up was likely to take the rest of the night. She could get it done but doubted it would change Mr. Lieberman’s mind about letting her stay. Erika had taken off ten days ago to get away from her boyfriend’s trouble. Being that Erika was the only one on the lease, Brianna shouldn’t have stayed after that.

The landlord had turned a blind eye to her staying in the first place after Bri had used her Bambi act and persuaded him she was really in dire straits. She hated to act pathetic and hated to ask for favors, but she hadn’t expected to stay for long. Since Erika had left ten days ago neither Bri nor the landlord had voiced the obvious fact that she was living there alone and illegally.

Glancing at the door, she speculated as to how long it would take Rafe and his cronies to show up again. Rafe was the dealer looking for Erika and her boyfriend. His squad would delight in doing this kind of work. She couldn’t even kid herself that staying there would be safe. Whoever had done this job for Rafe kicked in the door to gain entry. Her only choice was to get her stuff and get out.

As much as she hated running away from responsibility, and the mess technically was her responsibility, she was the last man standing on one side of a war she hadn’t been around to start. The abode was hardly the Ritz. Erika and her boyfriend had long ago destroyed or sold anything decent in the apartment. Upkeep had been neglected too, so it struggled to call itself watertight. The state of the apartment hadn’t bothered her, she’d only come back to town on the pleadings of her brother.

Gary had told her to stay with him, he’d practically begged. But being sucked back into living like her brother, paycheck to paycheck or dabbling in illegality, wasn’t a positive forward step. Staying with Erika in the hope of maintaining her independence hadn’t exactly worked out.

Being back home had its disadvantages and advantages, the biggest example of both presented itself when Blaser came knocking on her door. Erika had warned off Bri’s ex when he showed up unannounced. But it didn’t matter what Erika said. Very little would sway Blaser Warner once he’d made up his mind about something.

Gathering up some clothes, and what she could find of her other possessions, Brianna tidied as she went along. The suitcase that she’d originally brought was broken, but she managed with a duffel bag and large tote. Erika and her boyfriend were gone. They weren’t coming back to chase old luggage.

She was just about ready to leave but slowed in her collecting. What was the plan? Where would she go? Her brother was the only person she’d relied on growing up. Any so-called friends in the area wouldn’t be any safer than Erika.

Gary wasn’t an option anyway. He was doing his own time in jail, awaiting trial because they couldn’t afford bail and no bondsman would stand up for him. Hooking the strap of the tote over her shoulder, she let her eyes drift to the window. Only one other person in the world loved her as much as Gary did. One person whom, from everything she’d heard, had gotten his act together.

Just like her, Blaser wasn’t a part of that world they came from anymore. He would never get her involved in anything criminal or abandon her if things got rough. None of that meant Blaser wasn’t trouble. Blaser was the kind of trouble a girl could never tell her mother about, at least he used to be.

She could still remember hearing the words as he broke up with her in that cavernous prison space. The moment the syllables hit her ears she’d gone numb, her ears rang. In truth, they were still ringing six and a half years later.

Except she was stuck, with little money and little choice, she had to risk opening that door again. She would just have to figure out how to keep him on the other side of her threshold because if he came inside… all hell would break loose.

CHAPTER TWO

“Want me to lock up?”

“No,” Blaser said, straightening a Risqué emblazoned glass on the shelf behind the bar. “You get home to that gorgeous wife of yours.”

“She’s pissed about some shit,” Dax said, resting a fist on the other side of the bar. “She’ll have waited up just to give me earache when I get home.”

“Way I hear it, the fight is sorta foreplay for you two.”

Dax’s usually clear expression became smug. “That’s definitely the truth. She’s a minx, everything is foreplay to her. I’m never sure if she’s going to jump me or kill me.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“As close as you’ll get,” Dax said, opening his hand to push away from the bar. “See you tomorrow.”

Blaser listened to his newest security man exit through the front of the building then went through his usual checks. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Lights were off. Check. Check.

Two weeks ago, Dax showed up shouting the odds, making sure every guy knew Ivy was off-limits. His new desk girl at Warner Autos, Ivy, was hot, maybe under other circumstances he would’ve made a play. But that kind of casual encounter held no interest for him.

Womanizing wasn’t his way, never had been. He’d spent most of his life with one woman. The woman he set free when he went to prison. That was the final straw. Breaking up with her, breaking her heart, was the most difficult thing he’d ever done in his life. He didn’t doubt being crazy in love with her, even as he said the words that severed her from his life. Selfishly, he’d wanted to keep her, but the truth was, he’d made her cry too many times. Back then, at twenty-eight, he was supposed to be getting his act together, not losing his shit. So he’d called her into visiting and ended it. Six and a half years later, and he still thought about her every day.

Shaking off his fleeting thoughts of Brianna, he swept up his leather jacket, stuck his arms in the sleeves and went around all the exits to ensure they were locked.

Risqué was a strip club. A place he’d dreamed of owning since he was a kid. When they were an item, Brianna went along with his dream. Together, they’d fantasize about what building their own business would be like. They even went so far as to name it and talk décor.

She liked the idea of having a high-class place where men could enjoy beautiful women. Her own experience with strip clubs was those of the lowest sort, so they’d always promised to stick to the rules when they owned their own place. It was that decision that prompted his rule of not hiring anyone under the age of twenty-five.

Risqué was legit. The dancers could hold their own, no one was taken advantage of or exploited. The patrons were happy with the display of flesh; at the end of the day that was all that mattered to them.

At one time, Brianna had dreams of Julliard and greatness, but he hadn’t been able to deliver those dreams for her. After her parents took off and she started stripping, Blaser had sought out Gary, Bri’s brother, blaming him for Bri needing to go out there and sell her body to support herself. Turned out Gary had been in the dark too. They ended up talking and making a plan to look after her. It wasn’t long after that he stole his first car, then it became habit.

He knew it was illegal and knew that his parents would be disappointed if they found out about the chop shop he ran with Gary. Back then, he hadn’t cared. It was about keeping Bri safe and making sure she never had to sell any part of herself to anyone just to get by.

Prison put a stop to his criminal ways. He had broken up with Bri before coming to the conclusion he could do better. Once he did, he cut all ties with his previous associates and decided to go straight. On leaving prison, he bought Risqué with the financial help of his brothers, who backed him on the proviso he kept his nose clean. It had taken a lot of hard work to get himself to where he was, and he had no intention of putting all that to waste by sliding back into what so many considered an easier life.

Buying Warner Autos happened at the same time he left prison. He got it at a discount from his cousin because he promised to manage Mattie’s apartment block right next door. So with two businesses of his own, and shared responsibility of managing Mattie’s apartment block, Blaser was a busy guy. Gus, Mattie’s brother and another Warner cousin, managed the lion’s share of the work at the apartment complex. Blaser just picked up the slack.

Risqué had become his life. He hired men to take care of things at Warner Autos and with Ivy answering phones, ordering parts, and doing paperwork, he had less to do with the garage, meaning he could devote his time to Risqué.

Content the club was secure, he exited through the rear employee door and locked it up too. He zipped his leather jacket, dug his hands into his pockets and began to mentally prepare the following day’s to-do list as he trudged down the alley. Two paces beyond the dumpster, he heard a sharp inhale that made him pause.

“Quiet, you fucking ‘ho,” a low male voice grumbled.

Blaser glimpsed the movement of a shadow further down the alley to his left. Peering closer, all he could make out was the shape of a large guy, dressed in dark clothes. The shadowy guy raised his arm, there was a slap and then a female exclamation of pain before a body collapsed to the ground between the shadowy guy and the club wall.

“Rafe wants you taught about disrespect,” the shadow snarled and dropped down out of view behind another dumpster.

Striding over to see what was going on, the scuffling sounds got louder the nearer he got and were soon joined by muffled female objections. More definition grew in the shadow man who was sprawled on top of someone, all he could make out were naked female arms and legs beneath.

“Hey!” Blaser said, storming over to haul the shadow up from the ground by the back of his neck.

The guy swore and lashed out to free himself, then he spun around to take a swing. Blocking the sloppy move was easy, as was landing a punch of his own. The shadow staggered back, giving him his first real chance of getting a physical description. Blond hair, angry eyes, and a scar intersecting the perpetrator’s brow. Bloody scratches on his neck and face joined the blood now seeping from his lip. Obviously, the punch did its job.

Widening his stance, ready to brawl, if necessary, the blond male shadow spun around and bolted off. Giving chase briefly entered his mind as an option, but in that area, there was no guarantees who might be connected to who. Drugs were rife, prostitution and gangs too, it was a shady part of town. Even if he caught up with the guy, he wouldn’t call the cops, that just wasn’t how things went down and he wouldn’t risk trouble visiting the club.

When the attacker vanished out the end of the alley, he turned his attention to the woman on the ground and immediately wished he’d done more than just split the perp’s lip. At five-five, with streaks of blonde in mousy brown hair, Blaser knew the woman sitting on the cold asphalt outside his club. She kept her face down, giving him a view of the jagged parting in her hair. Her reluctance to lift her attention only betrayed she recognized him too.

“What I should do is ask if you’re okay and take you to hospital,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, still fixated on the woman sprawled on the asphalt. “What I’m actually going to do is ask if you’re fucking insane.”

She twisted her legs to look at a scrape on her calf then lifted her rear from the ground to wriggle her skirt down. Her hand rose, indicating she wanted help up, so he took it and pulled her to her feet.

“Thanks,” she said, smoothing the skirt that barely covered her ass.

After enjoying the flash of her midriff, his focus carried on up to her breasts, covered by a red halter top. Man, she was always hot. Every damn minute.

“What are you doing here, Bri?” he asked while reminding himself she was no longer his to scoop up off the ground and into his arms.

“I need your help,” she said.

Tossing her hair back, she revealed the bruising on her cheek, the blood on her chin and the fullest, softest lips he’d ever known. She still didn’t look at him, she twisted her body to examine a cut on the back of her upper arm: doing everything she could to put off meeting his eyes.

“You don’t need my help,” he said. Being near her again was surreal. He still hadn’t figured out how to act around her now their relationship wasn’t sexual, as it always had been before. “You never need my help. Does Gary know you’re here?”

That question changed her mood, and she chose that moment to blink her long-lashed eyes at him. “Blaser,” she said. “You know my brother is in jail, exactly where you put him.”

“I didn’t put anyone in jail,” Blaser said. “Your brother mouthed off to an undercover cop, that’s how he got himself in the slammer this time. Let’s not kid ourselves that Gary is an upstanding member of society. He had this coming.”

“You don’t know everything, Love. You don’t know what’s going on or why I’m here.”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, backing away, taking his hand out of hers. If she opened those floodgates and got him thinking this was just like the old days, he didn’t trust himself to act like an ex without full privileges should. “And don’t do that…” He lifted his hand toward her face then thought better of touching her again. “Thing.”

Her step in his direction only made him take another backwards. “What thing?”

He ignored the question because she knew the answer; she knew exactly what she could do to him with a flutter of those lashes.

“What are you doing behind my club at three in the morning?” he asked. “Who was that fucker? What did he want?”

Bri took in a short breath and panted it out. “It’s a long story, I was waiting. I didn’t want to come in because… I didn’t know if Colt would be there. I thought I would catch you out here, and we could talk.”

“What do you want to talk about at three in the morning?”

“I need a job.”

“You need a job?”

“I need money,” she said. “So yeah, I need a job.”

“What kind of job do you think I’ve got for you?” he asked, sorry his first thought took his eyes to her legs.

“I don’t screw people for money,” she said, folding her arms under those pert little tits that he remembered too well. “That’s your department.”

And the spite in her tone was enough to cool his desire. “Oh, ho,” he said, exhaling his own frustration and turning on his heels to begin walking away. “I’m not having this fight with you, Dollface. It’s late and I’ve had a long day.”

“You’ve always had a long day,” she said, snatching something from the ground then scurrying along at his side. “You’ve always been a workaholic, even since before you actually had a legit job.”

Brianna and he had a history that was Shakespeare meets Tarantino. As many tragic episodes as there were comedic ones, they’d seen bloodshed together, been at drug crazed parties, had wild sex in crazy locations, and been arrested together.

The criminal underworld was his stomping ground when he hung with his own team. At the head of that team, at Blase’s side, was Brianna’s older brother Gary, his once upon a time best friend. All that changed when Blaser went to prison.

“That’s a different fight,” Blaser said, striding out of the alley to head towards home. “Can you pick one fight and stick with it? I’m not in the mood to flip back and forth between them. I’m not sure I’d be able to keep up.”

“You saw what that guy did to me, Blase, what he was going to do to me. You stopped to help me because you didn’t want him to hurt me.”

“I didn’t know it was you.”

“Are you saying if you had, you wouldn’t have helped me?”

He stopped, struck at the core by that implication. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve gone back into the club for my gun.”

Protecting her was the first goal he’d ever set himself.

“That’s because you love me.”