Page 18 of The Devil's Playground

“Weren’t you watching? I won the hand.”

“I know?—”

“And that means I get my prize.” I press the handle of the case against her palm, waiting for her fingers to curve over it before letting go. “He promised you ten grand for a night with you. Here’s the money. But that night with you? It belongs to me.”

And so will she.

SIX

ROYCE

NICOLETTE

Holy shit. My boss just won me in a bet.

This can’t be happening. It can’t—but it is.

Just like Miles said before, once midnight hit, my shift was over and I was going home with someone. Only, instead of that someone being the dark-haired wannabe, I’m leaving with the underboss of the Sinners Syndicate.

Right now, I have “Rolls” Royce McIntyre’s suit jacket over my shoulders, his hand pressed against the small of my back, his body shielding me from the crowd around us as he guides me out of the Playground.

He nods at the pair of bouncers guarding the doors, and if they seem surprised that he’s leaving with me, that’s nothing compared to how I feel.

I’m moving under his power for a few feet more before I stop. As though the wintry breeze outside slaps some sense into me, the shock fades, and I turn to look up at him.

He grins. “Not having cold feet, are you, Nicolette?”

Am I? I don’t think so. I mean, it’s crazy. That, two minutes ago, I was watching a pair of men turn my body into a prize for them. But now that this man won? I’m feeling a lot better than if I was heading out with Miles Haines, that’s for sure.

But… why? I just don’t understand why?

I don’t ask him. I’m afraid of what his answer could be, so I just refuse to ask. Instead, I hold out the briefcase.

Rolls raises his eyebrows. “What are you trying to give me that for? I just told you. It’s yours.”

I want it. I want it desperately. Ten grand wouldn’t just make up for the money I lost moving to Springfield. It would give me a nice nest egg and a getaway fund if the worst comes to pass and I have to get the hell out of her fast.

But I can’t keep it. It’s one thing to tell Miles that I’d sleep with him for ten grand. Rolls didn’t have anything to do with that. I went to work this morning without ten grand, and since I don’t have to lay there as that wallet bounces on top of me, I can go home without it.

Even if I’d rather not. But since—if I’m being honest with myself—I’d take Rolls McIntyre home with me for nothing… I should give it back.

“No. This is yours. I can’t keep it?—”

He shakes his head. “Don’t even think about it. You made a verbal agreement, yeah? A night with that fucking idiot? Well, I won. It’s mine now. And I know just how I want to spend it.”

I swallow nervously. “You do?”

His hand is still on my back. “I’m hungry. What about you?”

“Um. I guess?”

“Good. There’s this little place a block away that I sneak off to when I get tired of what we have at the Playground. Come on.” He gives me a gentle push, guiding me in the right direction. “I think you’ll love it.”

And that’s exactly how I find myself having dinner with the second in command of the Sinners Syndicate.

I’m grateful we’re still in the heart of Sinners territory. Kieran rarely leaves the East End unless he has to, and as paranoid as I am, I can’t imagine why he would show up at a small diner on the West Side. Even if he did, this is my boss. I’m sitting with my boss, eating a bowl of chicken noodle soup that’s all the butterflies in my stomach will let me get down, while he smiles charmingly at me, leading the conversation.

If I was a different girl, he was a different man, and this was a whole other type of situation… I’d say this was a first date. That’s the kind of discussion he leads me into having; or, at least, it’s the kind I’d imagine people having who got to have a first date instead of being someone’s dirty, little secret.

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