Page 6 of Pay the Piper

“In my experience, the women I’m with don’t really care about my chest hair.”

“Really?”

“I guess it would depend on the woman, though. It’s not like I’ve kept anyone around for too long. Neither had Mila, until you.”

His chest puffs up with pride at that, and I can see why she’s enamored with having someone around to be praised and punished all the time. That’s what she wants for me, I guess. But for her, Thatcher’s more than that. He’s her love, someone she looks forward to seeing at the end of a long day. Someone to share a little bit of the burden of our life with. Someone to remind her why life is worth living.

That’s what she wants me to find here. And exactly what I don’t need.

“So what’s on the agenda for the day? Any, uh…sponsorship meetings? Want to spar in the gym for a bit?”

Thatcher hands me a too-sweet smoothie and cocks his head, considering my questions like the golden retriever he is.

“No meetings. We can definitely spar for a bit, though. I was hoping to catch our team physio for a massage, and then by seven o’clock, I need to be on the couch for Family Love Island. You’re gonna stay and watch it with Ellie and me tonight, right?”

Alright. My entire day is going to consist of waiting for Thatcher to get his massage and then collapsing onto the couch to watch TV. That’s fine. The previews for this episode looked juicy, with a pair of grandparents finally hooking up even though their grandchildren hate each other.

“Misha?”

“What? Yeah…yeah. Definitely. You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

By the time Thatcher finishes his massage, shock wave therapy, and the cold tub, I’ve had time to fit a full workout in. It’s a perk to have full access to the facility, which has tech I’m already considering integrating into our training protocols. Between lactate monitoring and a dedicated recovery physician on site, I’m planning to take full advantage, even if the team is still feeling out exactly why I’m here. Once this assignment is over, I’ll be in the best shape of my life for sure. The best shape of my life to…fuck. Do whatever’s next, I guess. Follow Mila and Thatch back and forth between here and New York, and try to stay out of the way.

“Hey, man. Sorry that I took so long.” Thatcher finally appears, shirtless as usual and carrying another smoothie. “Ready to go?”

The drive is mercifully short, especially considering Thatcher’s proclivity for boy band pop tunes. When we pull into the compound, he doesn’t need me to make him a snack, since the nutritionist at the facility has already told the chef his meal plan for the week. He trundles off to take a bath, and I…

I…

There are plenty of things I can do. Checking the server, I find everything running as it should be. Good. That’s good. A quick check on Thatcher confirms that he has his bubble bath, his rubber ducky, and his favorite Epsom salt. Once he gets out, we’ll meet Ellie in the theater for our show.

Before I can overthink anything else, a text from Teddy saves my evening. Of course I can help his new trainer evaluate a crop of new recruits. Finally something fucking useful to do.

Chapter 4

Abby Reid. Your name is Abby Reid. You’re a librarian from Canada, but you hated the cold, so you moved to Thunder Bay looking for a fresh start as you head into your thirties.

That part is true at least. I did turn thirty this year, I do hate the cold, and I would kill for a fresh start. I feel like I’m in an episode of The Twilight Zone as I stare into the mirror. With my fiery-red curls, I see more of myself in the reflection than I have in years, yet a stranger looks back at me.

What a peculiar feeling to look into a mirror and not recognize yourself. Sure, my bright green eyes have dulled, my hair isn’t quite the same shade of red as my natural color, and my face is much slimmer. But it’s deeper than that. I haven’t seen this version of myself in almost a decade, so maybe that’s why it feels so wrong. The girl I once knew who was so full of life is gone, replaced by a woman who’s seen too much. Abby. I can’t recall the last time someone called me Abby. Probably Mom on my wedding day, and that was the last time I saw her or anyone else I knew from my youth.

My parents always encouraged me to feel proud of my heritage, although I wasn’t pretty in the same ways the girls at school were. I used to think my wild hair and porcelain skin were something special, until Conor changed practically everything about me. Part of my mandatory self-care has been maintaining straight blonde hair and a spray tan to hide my freckles. It’s ironic that he’s always been so insistent on using my first name since it sounds more Irish, yet he hates my stereotypical Irish features.

With a deep breath, I pull my attention from the mirror and look down at the folio of information on the woman I’m supposed to be meeting today at the library. She’s the whole reason I’m role-playing as a librarian in the first place.

Elia Santori.

Opening the folder, I study the pictures as I finish my coffee. Now she is a beautiful woman. She has olive skin, dark, effortless curls, and curves a goddess would dream of.

Elia Santori. Twenty-five years old. Goes by Ellie, five months pregnant. Engaged to Theodore (Teddy) Taranov: Bratva. Whatever Bratva means. Volunteers at almost every establishment in the general vicinity of Thunder Bay.

It’s not like I had a choice in the first place, but I would’ve agreed to anything Conor wanted in order to get away from him. Being able to help bring down some bad men is just a plus, even if it means I have to seduce them in the process. I’ve been forced to sleep with way less attractive guys than the Santori brothers. But still, befriending another woman is by far the part of this plan I’m dreading the least. Especially one who seems as kind as Ellie.

I’ve studied the information provided to me about all the Santoris, and while her brothers, Niccolò and Gabriele, seem every bit the threat Conor made them out to be, Ellie seems like an angel. I’ve never seen someone devote so much of their time to helping others. It’s an anomaly coming from such a harsh family, since it would certainly be within her means to spend her days in complete leisure.

This may be a covert mission, but it’s basically a vacation to me, even with the library work. I’ve enjoyed lounging about the past few days, but I’m glad to finally have something more to do. More than lying in my hammock on my beachfront balcony, reading with the sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore. At least my asshole of a husband has good enough taste to put me up somewhere nice.

Taking the last sip of my coffee, I place my cup in the sink and grab my lunch, ready to start my new life as Abby Reid.