Page 62 of The Devil's Playground

That’s his mistake.

At this moment, I’m reminded of the first time I was ever intimate with Royce. How he kissed me in the supply room, squeezing my ass before we ended in a position fairly similar to this. There’s one big difference, though. Even when he was just my boss, I was with him the whole way. He checked in with me before he touched me, and when he did? He was gentle. Seductive. He didn’t just jam his hands down my shorts and try to fuck me with his finger like this asshole did.

And that’s why I didn’t rear back my legs and knee him in the fucking nuts like I do this handsy bastard.

His nails scratch the sides of my throat as he rips his hand back, body folding up like a metal chair. Miles lets out a howl as he drops, cupping his cock as he starts screaming unintelligible threats at me.

For a moment, I rub my neck, glaring at him through a sheen of hate-filled tears.

I’m so fucking pissed that he made me cry. That he cornered me at my place of work, and that I naively thought that the big-shot customer wouldn’t give up on his fixation with me just because Royce beat him at poker.

If anything, that’s more of a reason why he’d come after me again. After harassing me for weeks, I finally relented enough to give sex work another try. There was no connection. He’s handsome in that blandly, manicured way that older men with money have, but I wasn’t attracted to him, either. Whether I used one of the rooms upstairs like the other girls or went to a hotel with him instead, I was fucking him for money. When he didn’t have it, I didn’t go home with him—and he’s probably been stewing over it ever since.

Royce won me. Since then, I’ve found myself falling deeper and deeper for him. He went from being my boss and my savior to my lover. I choose to be with him. There’s not enough money in the world to get me to cheat on him because this is the relationship I’ve waited my entire life to have.

And this asshole tried to ruin it for me.

It’s not about me anymore, though. This is revenge, plain and simple. Royce won. He won that poker game, he won a night out with me, and though he never cashed it in the way that Miles would’ve expected, he won my heart. Big shots like Miles feel like the world owes them everything. Royce won, but Miles thought he should.

Once he recovers, he’s coming after me. I can see it in his face. Only the force of my knee into his crotch is saving me right now, and I’m not about to stick around and let him get back to his feet.

I don’t even bother grabbing my bag. My phone’s in there, so is my money and the key card that would let me into Paradise Suites. Just now? I don’t give a shit.

If I jog, I can make it to my mother’s place in twenty minutes. I have a spare key hidden where even Kieran won’t find out, and an alarm system that should keep anyone out.

And, calming myself just enough to tell the first waitress I bump into that I was puking in the bathroom and need to go home sick, I bolt from the Playground.

ROYCE

As I speed across downtown Springfield, I’m about to lose my fucking mind.

Nicolette didn’t go home, and by that I mean no one at the Suites has seen her since she left for her shift abruptly about an hour ago. With her purse, phone, and wallet left behind at the Playground, I have no way to reach her—and no idea what where she is.

I knew I should have blown off my duties today. I never do, and when I watched Nicolette pull on her Playground uniforms earlier today, something in my gut told me I should—but I didn’t listen. Instead, I dropped her off at the club, then went out to take care of business.

It’s been a day from hell already. Part of this ‘truce’ we have going on means that, when I catch a young Dragonfly peddling their shit on the West Side, I grit my teeth and turn my head. At the end of the day, customers will buy their dope whether I try to stop them or not. Breeze is the drug of choice this winter. Like a hopped-up E, it’s for partying, making its users loose and hot and reckless.

Link thinks we can take advantage of that. Our girls need johns. The Playground needs partiers. Breeze has boosted business which is habitually slow this time of year.

But it also makes some of our wallets super fucking stupid.

Burns tipped us off about something that happened in the bathrooms the other night. One of the cops on Link’s payroll, he let us know that the handful of straight-and-narrow cops looking into Breeze have traced it to the Playground. Some sergeant’s kid took too much and found himself in an uncompromising position before his buddies dragged him out. Burns was chuckle when he describe the kid bruising his cock by trying to fuck a urinal, and I’m just glad that none of the Playground’s staff had to deal with that.

Of course, that means I had to fix that problem. The kid’s dick will heal, but the sergeant was pissed off when he discovered Breeze was flowing freely. He threatened to bring in a task squad to clean us out, and I had to smooth things over to get the cop off our backs.

Adding him to Link’s payroll helped, but it was annoyingly tedious.

The vice mayor was waiting for his monthly pay-off, and I had to deal with that, too. I checked in with Jake. Went to the dinner with Link, Damien, Mayor Harrison, and the twink he’s currently fucking—oh, sorry. I mean, his aide.

By the time I’m done for the night and I got to the Playground, all I wanted was a stiff drink and a second alone with Nic. She was on schedule from six to two, so my midnight arrival meant she should’ve been there.

But she wasn’t.

Jessie thought I knew. When I arrived and Nic wasn’t there, she figured that I had to know. Chloe was the one who tipped her off. Something about how Nicolette was puking in the bathroom and had to leave early, but she was in such a rush that not only did she sidestep informing the floor manager she had to go, but she abandoned all of her belongings in the backroom.

One look at my face and, fuck. I didn’t hide it. I’m usually so good at keeping a straight face—that’s the gambler in me—but when she said Nicolette left her stuff behind… her money behind… I didn’t hide it all. Jessie chased me all over the club as I checked to see if anyone saw her leave—and if she left alone.

The guys at the door confirmed it. She left by herself, heading down the street. They assumed she was going to get her car, but how could she? I dropped her off. Her car’s parked in the Suites’ parking deck, and her keys were in her purse.

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