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The latest episode wraps up, and when I look over at her again, she’s asleep, her head lolling to one side as she breathes softly and evenly.
I can’t help but watch her, my gaze tracking over her features. The bruises are fading, having turned from purple to a soft yellowish green, although there’s still a dark mark under one of her eyes. My cock starts to harden as I focus on her lips, pink and probably petal soft.
No.
I drag in a deep breath and then another, tapping my fingers against my thigh in an even rhythm while I count in my head so that I can get myself under control. I’ve already caved once and broken my usual routine for her. I can’t let that become a habit.
She shifts a little on the couch, her shoulder nearly brushing against mine, and I stiffen, torn between staying where I am and moving to avoid the contact. Before I can decide, there’s a knock on the door, and I glance toward it sharply. It’s late for visitors, already dark out, and I know Willow never has people over.
She jerks awake at the sound when whoever it is knocks again, blinking and glancing over at me. I move on silent feet to the door and look out the peephole, making a face when I recognize her old boss from the strip club. Carl, I think his name is.
What the fuck is he doing here?
“It’s the man you used to work for,” I whisper after striding back over to where Willow is standing in front of the couch. “Let him in.”
Her eyes widen, and then she nods, moving to the door to do what I said.
I grab my bag and duck into her bedroom, pulling my gun out and gripping it loosely in my hand as I wait. I listen, peering through a small crack between the door and the frame as she unlocks her front door and then pulls it open.
“Carl?” she asks, surprise and wariness in her tone. “What is it?”
As soon as the door is open wide enough to allow entry, he strides into her apartment and starts pacing, his lanky body radiating nervous energy.
“What are you doing here?” Willow prompts again.
He turns to her, running a hand through stringy hair that’s thinning a little in the front. “Someone came to see me tonight. He was asking about the brothel and the night it burned down. Wanted to know if any of my girls were there when it happened.”
“Oh.” Willow’s voice is quiet.
“I told him none of mine were there when it happened.” His gaze snaps to her, a shrewd look on his face. “That’s what you told me. And it’s true, isn’t it?”
There’s something in his tone that makes it pretty clear he knows it isn’t. Somehow, he’s figured out that Willow wasn’t being completely honest with him when she said she was no longer there when the fire started. Or he’s just guessing.
She shakes her head, also picking up on what he’s implying. “I wasn’t there, Carl,” she insists. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He takes a step closer to her, and my hand tightens around my gun.
“I know you’re hiding something,” he growls. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you’ve got a secret, you’re gonna have to make it worth my while to keep it for you.”
Willow takes a step back, but he keeps advancing, staring right at her.
“I told the guy that none of my girls were there that night. I didn’t tell him about you. But that could change, you know what I’m saying?”
His threat is clear, and Willow blanches, her brown eyes wide.
“I already told you everything,” she insists, licking her lips. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Carl snorts. “That’s what they all say. I’m telling you, you have two options. You give me what I want and all of this stays quiet. Or I go find that guy and give him whathewants.”
Willow’s gaze flicks toward the bedroom where I’m hiding, then back to Carl. “So what do you want?”
He shrugs. “What the fuck do you think? Money. You told me you had to leave Sapphire because you needed something that would pay you better, so I figure you should be able to buy my silence.”
She swallows. “How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
“What?” Her jaw drops. “Carl, I can’t—”
