Page 114 of Red's Peril: Part 1

“And you know she’s bad news. I’ll get onto it, dig into her background, assuming there’s only one Cheryl. If I find something, you want me to come to you, or warn Crossman?”

My eyes widen. “She’s not a fuckin’ criminal.”

“Whoa!” He rears back defensively. “How the fuck was I to know what you wanted her for. Care to enlighten me?”

“It’s personal,” I snap back. My cheeks are burning and the red-headed rage I normally manage to keep in check is starting to surface now.

Keys does not deserve to suffer the brunt of it, so I clench my hands and try to push my temper back down. Fucking woman has gotten under my skin, making me act out of character. I pride myself on being a man in control and just look at me now.

Keys stands. “I’ll go see what I can dig up.”

When he disappears as fast as his legs will carry him, I grab a bottle of whisky I keep in a drawer and without bothering with a glass, put it to my lips.Fuck Cheryl.Why’s she got me so tied up in knots? Can’t she see I just need to see her again to end our relationship properly, all tied up in a fancy ribbon and bow? Then that will be the end of it.

I’ve drunk about a third of the bottle when Keys reappears. He bravely drops back down in front of me, his laptop resting on his lap.

“You ready to hear this?”

I wave an unsteady hand. “Hit me.”

His mouth quirks, then he starts speaking. “There’s a Cher Samson listed as an employee.”

Cher.That was the name the man giving her a lift had called her. In my head I try it out.Cher. My Cher.A drunken smile starts to curve my lips before I remember where I am, and what I’m doing.

“It’s her.” I confirm.

“I went to look at her schedule, she works Monday through Friday. But there’s a note on her file that she’d called in sick yesterday.”

Sick?My ass. There was nothing wrong with her on Thursday.

Keys is watching my reaction carefully. He taps at his keyboard, and a moment later my phone pings. I ignore it.

He nods my way. “As this is personal, and you’re so worked up about her, I thought it best to keep it out of the casino. You go in like a bull in a china shop you could fuck shit up. So, I got her address for you. That’s my text you just received.”

My temper dissipates so fast I feel dizzy, instead I want to laugh.Why the fuck hadn’t I asked him for that earlier?It makes so much more sense. I attempt a smile which might have come out as a leer as a thanks for his help.

Keys stands. “My work here seems to be done. Just one other thing, Prez. In case the alcohol made you forget, it’s Sunday tomorrow and she’s not on the roster.”

I know the grin I’m giving him is cheesy. But he’d done well to remind me, I’d forgotten what day it was.

Tomorrow. Well, that gives me a chance to get rid of the inevitable hangover and go confront her on her home turf. At least, there’ll be nowhere for her to run.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Sunday dawns and as daylight breaks, so does my head. Or that’s what it feels like. Regretting, as I knew I would, the amount of whisky I’d drunk last night, I pull myself out of bed.

My head might be pounding, my legs as wobbly as a newborn foal, but on my phone is Cheryl—Cher’s—address. Today I’ll be going to see her, and I won’t be letting her get away. Not until we’ve had a chance to have a decent conversation. And if that ends up in bed, so much the better.

After a shower, copious amounts of coffee and a huge plate of one of Rosa’s special breakfasts, by lunchtime I’m feeling partway human, or enough to get on my bike and ride.

Keys gives me a smirk and a wave of his hand as I head outside. I check my phone again, reminding myself of the direction in which I should head, then wasting no time I start my engine, ride through the gates and soon hit the pavement. I grin to myself anticipating the look on her face.

She’ll be as surprised as fuck when she sees me. Happy, I hope. If not, then now’s the time for explanations. If she tells me to get lost, then I’ll take it like a man. Or, more likely a biker. I’ll head off, get roaring drunk, and forget all about her by losing myself in a faceless woman’s cunt.

On the way I ask myself if I know what I’m doing, and why I didn’t take the hint with her first brush off. I’ll be fucked if I know why, but I’d felt there was something being left unsaid. Call it a sixth sense if you want, but something about our encounter was off.

I arrive at a pleasant enough apartment block on a well-maintained street. Not overly expensive, but in Vegas it won’t come cheap. I park my bike, put my gloves in my helmet, then check her apartment number again. It’s on the second floor, so I head for the stairs.

As I take the first step, I’m practicing my opening gambit.Hey, babe. We need to talk.Lame, but what else can I start with?