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Katerina sways her hips side to side, dancing with her friends; all the while the bartender stares at my girl nearly as intently as I am. He moves from behind the bar, joining the women. His hands rest on Katerina’s hips, and she laughs at something he says.
Katerina’s not my girl anymore, but my brain doesn’t remind my body of that little fact in time. I storm to the dance floor and jerk Katerina to my side, but not before jabbing the guy in the ribs. He doubles over, releasing a whoosh of air.
“Hey!” her friends call, but I ignore them as I drag Katerina down the hall and into the bathroom. Slamming and locking the door, I turn to face her, jerking the mask off.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Psycho living up to his pet name.” Katerina seethes.
I stalk over to her, all the while she’s backpedaling. She runs out of real estate, and I cage her against the wall with my arms. “Let another man touch you again, and you’ll find just how psycho I can be,” I whisper, barely able to hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears.
“You don’t want me, but no one else can have me; is that it?” Her chest heaves as her eyes dilate.
“Who said I don’t want you?” That’s the damn problem! My lips crash against hers like a man starved, but now it’s my turn to release a whoosh of air when her knee connects with my balls.
“Uh-huh. You don’t get to touch me anymore, Mr. Psycho. We’re no longer all in; you folded like a little pussy, remember?”
“Because you were playing me!” I grit, cupping my aching balls.
Katerina huffs in frustration. “I’ve passed the polygraph; I’ve passed your truth serum test; what else do you want from me?”
“Neither of those tests are fool-proof,” I tell her, guarding my balls in case she decides to knee me again.
“The only fool I see is you!” She storms toward the door and reaches for the handle, but I get there first, blocking her exit.
“Tell me why you’re grinding on another man’s dick instead of getting back inside the poker room?” It’s my turn to seethe.
“Aww, did Kitty Kat hook her claws in you, Fabio?” She turns around to face me, running her nails over my shirt where her claw marks are tattooed, and my damn traitorous body shivers. “Got a taste of this pussy, and now you’re addicted, huh? That’s a shame.” She drops her hand with a smirk.
Unclenching my jaw, I tell her cooly, “There’s plenty of pussy lining up to warm my bed; don’t worry about me.”
Hurt flashes in her almond-shaped eyes for a split second before she masks her feelings. “Then what are you waiting for? Run along and attend to your bed warmers.”
“I’m waiting on you, Katerina, to act like you have a shred of self-preservation and do what you’ve been tasked to do.” I grit, grabbing her chin.
Her eyes filled with fire, she jerks away from my grasp; I let her. “Then you need to back the fuck off and let me.” She quietly fills me in on this guy who goes by Inferno. “I’ve put the word out I’m looking to deal. So we’ll see if this Inferno guy is connected to John. I also got Russell’s number, and I left a message for him to call me about dealer opportunities at Ace’s.”
Darius already popped Russell, but I keep that information to myself. “Very well. I’ll relay the information to my boss.”
“Fine. Are we done here?” she says cooly.
Dropping my hand from the door, I shift so she can exit. “Katerina,” I say, and she pauses, her fingers on the door handle. “Don’t mistake my dick’s fondness for you as weakness. If I do find out you’re playing the family, I’ll end you myself,” I warn her.
Katerina turns to face me and says softly, “This is why we would have never worked, Fabio. You were never all in; your devotion to the family doesn’t leave room in your heart for anyone else.” With that, she opens the door and walks out.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Kat
Scanning my card, I enter Ace’s Wild and stash my bag in a locker. Last night’s events keep replaying in my mind, and I’m so proud of myself for kneeing Fabio in the balls. A big part of me wanted to say fuck it and let him fuck me against the bathroom wall, but other than an amazing O, nothing good would have come from that. There are red flags, and then there are biohazard warnings.
I round the corner, nearly running into another red flag of a man. “Hey, Gavin.”
He makes a show of looking around. “Your boyfriend gonna attack me again if I speak to you?”
“Sorry about that,” I say sheepishly. “He’s not my boyfriend, not that it makes it any better.”
“You know what would make it better?” he says in a flirty tone.
