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Terry doesn’t say anything; instead, he sits there, mouth firmly shut, sweat dripping from his forehead, blinking so it doesn’t slide into his eyes.
“So, since you aren’t going to speak and tell us your side of the story, that leaves us to question Layla.” Even that doesn’t get a response out of him.
“What a fucking pussy. Let’s go, Wylde. Maybe the woman actually has some common sense instead of this shit for brains who has no problem letting Layla take the fall for everything with him only being an accomplice.” Terry scoots back in his chair, the metal scraping against the concrete floor. Nico and I go on high alert. He reaches for the gun I know is holstered at his side. As for me, I’m weaponless, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use my fists where it counts.
“It was my idea. Layla was just going to drive the getaway car.” Nico gave me some of the information, but not this. The ski mask lying beside Terry, the hand drawn layout of where our bank vaults are located, and a few other papers lying to the side.
“Good to know. We’ll be sure to let the authorities know the details. We’ll still be questioning Layla. I hope the two of you have your stories straight. It’s one thing to lie to us; it’s another to lie to the Vegas Police Department and FBI,” I state, grabbing the evidence before walking out of the room. Nico opens the door for me. My mind is being pulled in a million different directions.
“Want to interview Layla or just let the cops do their job?” he asks after we’re out of the holding room. My lead security team member nods his head. I do the same. Dante saw what was going down on the security feed the same time Nico got a call from his guys. They merged together. I guess it helps that Dante has some strings to the Donotello famiglia after all.
“Nope, I have no interest in hearing whatever they have to say. I’m already going to be up to my eyeballs in paperwork, not to mention having to tell Celeste what happened.” I fist my hands in my pockets. Layla created quite the shit storm this week, making Celeste believe it was something she did wrong when obviously that’s the furthest from the truth. Christ, this is a clusterfuck. “I’m heading to my office. Dante, let me know when the cops show up.”
“If we’re good here, I’m going to make sure shit is wrapped up nice and tight, then I’m leaving. Love you like a brother, man, but cops and me aren’t friends,” Nico states. I clap him on his back. He pulls me in for a one-armed hug, taking me back to a time when Nico used to run the streets, raise hell, have his mamma swearing up a storm and his pops ready to beat his ass when they got word what we were up to on my side of town.
“We’re good. Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it. See you later.” We both go our own ways. I already know it’s going to be a long-as-fuck day. So much for some time off.
THIRTY
Celeste
I wokeup to a text from Wylde telling me he’d be home late afternoon. Of course, after he left, I only stayed asleep for a couple of more hours. After that, I was wide awake. Alone to wander around in Wylde’s penthouse wasn’t much fun. The plan to go with Tyra and Von to look at a dog in an animal shelter has since been put on hold. As much as I’d love another puppy to love on, I know now isn’t the time. Half of that reason is because Wylde and I flip-flop from between our place every night or every other night, depending on our schedule. Plus, our relationship is still new. Adding a dog to the mix can add more stress, and let’s face it, Wylde has that in spades with his hotel and casino right now. Instead of going to the animal shelter, I called up Tyra, and we had an impromptu pool day with Von.
It was a day of us splashing around. Von swimming to the steps, running around the small deck, and jumping had to be repeated a multitude of times. The music was playing, the sun was shining, food of all kinds was flowing—chips and dip, fruit trays, veggie platters, and sub rings rounded out our meal. The only thing missing from my day was Wylde. Even Von asked where he was. When I told him he was at work, he shrugged his little boy shoulders and marched on. I knew the effect Mace had on Von; there was nothing anyone could do about it except be present for him.
The clean-up was minimal. It’s why when Von started getting fussy after missing his afternoon nap, I sent him and Tyra home. Wylder’s place doesn’t have a whole lot for him to do here, not to mention his spare bedroom is missing an important place to put a toddler when he’s down for a nap. Not that Tyra or I would have felt comfortable doing that without his bumper guards. Von is a mover, meaning he does full circles in his own bed, and if you ever get the pleasure to share the experience, you’re liable to get kicked, punched, slapped, and a slew of other things he’s capable of. That’s why I got them out the door before a tantrum ensued, then it was operation pickup around the pool deck, putting sunscreen away, washing towels that were soaking wet because kids feel the need to be wrapped up the second they get out of the water. Then there were the chairs and lounge chairs all out of sorts because imaginations run wild, forts being the optimal fun when it came to eating lunch.
Now, I’m sitting on the couch, flipping through channels trying to land on something. I’m in one of Wylder’s shirts that I confiscated from his drawer after a shower. More of my clothes and toiletries are here. That doesn’t mean when the time came to throw on pajamas, I was going after mine when the scent of him surrounding me is so much better. I’m not expecting Wylde until late tonight. I sent him a few texts and photos of all of us around the pool today, throwing in one of just me, teasing him. It probably wasn’t that great of an idea with him having one hell of a day. I’m settling on a show about food where a guy drives around the country finding the smallest hole-in-the-wall restaurants, making me hungry even though there’s no way I could even think about shoving food down my throat right now.
“Celeste.” The sliding of the elevator door alerts me that Wylde is home, and that is not the sound of a happy man.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I turn off the television and throw the remote on the couch. Going to him is the only thing on my mind. Wylde being okay trumps everything—the casino, the hotel, the spa. Nothing matters if he’s not okay.
“I’m okay, promise.” I greet him halfway. His lips touch mine, arms wrapping around my lower back, pulling me close. It’s a kiss full of everything—hope, dreams, happiness, contentment, and even love. The words we’ve yet to say to one another, yet are bubbling under the surface, at least for me. I’d scream them out right here and now if the timing were right.
“You may say you’re okay, but the heaviness lurking behind your eyes, the heaviness of your body, they’re telling me something different, Wylde.” He doesn’t let me go, not when he takes a deep breath, inhaling before exhaling. The suit he’s wearing looks like he’s been in it for days instead of hours, and his hair is askew. Clearly, his hands have been running through it more than normal. The tie he never leaves without is off, and I can taste and smell the sweet oaky flavor of his preferred bourbon.
“Yeah, you could say that. I think you should be sitting down when I tell you the shit that went down at the casino today.” He pulls away, not going far, just enough for us to move through the penthouse, bypassing the living room and open-area kitchen. I’m thinking we’re heading towards his wet bar that stays fully stocked off what’s essentially the dining room, but we don’t go there either. It’s when we’re closing in on the balcony that I clue in that he needs to be outside, to breathe fresh air after being in a closed-up building all day.
“Hey, you’re kind of scaring me, handsome,” I say after we finally sit down. My ass is planted on his thigh, legs hanging over the chair, body turned into his. Wylde is quiet, almost in-his-head kind of silent.
“That’s because I’m trying to come up with the words to let you know how today went while still cushioning the blow.” My mind turns to the spa, thinking something happened to it. If that’s the case, I’ll have my dad to thank for taking out an extra insurance policy, but surely, Wylde would have called and had me go down to look it over.
“Well, I think the suspense is making it worse. So, if you could, you know, pull the Band-Aid off with one quick pull, it might help move things along.” There’s a tilt to his lips, and his eyes soften.
“Nico and Dante figured out why Layla left as abruptly as she did.” He nods, hand going to my outer thigh, squeezing it before he continues, “Layla was an accomplice of Terry’s, the head of security who was fired. They had this big grand scheme. I don’t know the whole story, and frankly, I couldn’t give two fucks since it came with a shit ton of red tape and dealing with cops all day.”
“Well, that wasn’t too bad, Wylde. We can’t help what people do. Did it suck how she all but dipped out? Yes, but that’s on her. It really pisses me off that it took you away today and that it’s giving you nothing but more stress, but handsome, we can’t control other people. This isn’t on you, and it isn’t on me; it’s on those two people.” I wrap my arms around his neck, touch my forehead to his. Wylde lets the weight go that was piled on his shoulders.
“Fuck, Celeste, this whole day, I was worried it would wreck you. I hated that I was missing a great day to be around you, seeing you surround yourself with Tyra and Von, knowing one day, that’ll be us, chasing after a toddler back here.” He stops. My heart beats out of my chest. “Loving you, sweetheart, it’s easy, like needing air to breathe, and I know I’ll love you until my very last breath.”
“Oh God, Wylder Hayes, how am I supposed to compete with that? You just gave me everything I never knew I wanted. Your love alone is everything, and when the time comes to have children, I know it’ll only ever be with you.” The hand on my thigh moves to my lower back, his other one to the back of my head, guiding me towards his lips, not like it takes much persuasion on my part. I’d follow him anywhere if it meant getting drunk off his love for me.
Epilogue
WYLDE
