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Logan clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re almost nineteen, right?”
“Three more weeks.”
“Don’t do anything else stupid. Just hold on, and then you can do whatever you want.”
“You don’t know my father.”
Nick bit the inside of his cheek, all of this being too close to home.
You had to play the cards you were dealt better, kid, he thought, but the house always wins.
He knew his cards were going to be called soon.
He ignored the future that was calling and slept on the plane.
At the airport, they disembarked, the portly ambassador standing next to a black range rover. “Thanks for bringing him back.”
He shook each of their hands, lingering on Nick’s a little too long.
“Thanks for nothing,” the son said.
As he watched him drive away in his, Nick felt a smudge of sympathy for him. Sometimes, you didn’t want to play those cards.
“Come on, guys, let’s roll. I need a hot shower” Logan opened the door of the car Xander Montague had sent for them.
“I need my wife” Quinn slipped into the seat next to Logan.
“I can’t wait to find some pussy.” Nick slid into the comfy seat across from Quinn and Logan.
Erik slammed the door shut, and the trip back was silent, the four of them lost in their thoughts. Nick wondered how long the Bandit Brothers would be part of Team Stealth and Axis Management.
They’d had a good run, and working for Xander was like winning the lottery.
Outside the black and steel building, Quinn touched Erik’s arm. “Hey. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
“Yeah, we know,” Erik said.
“I don’t know. That job wasn’t good for me” Quinn ran a hand through his dark hair.
“Stay home with your wife next time,” Erik said as he placed his thumb on the biometric reader. The doors clicked open.
“Maybe we all should,” Nick said.
“Something you want to tell us?” Logan grinned.
“It’s nothing,” Nick said.
But as they met their formidable boss and debriefed, he couldn’t dislodge the tension he brought back from that tiny cabin.
CHAPTER TWO – NICK
In the elegant ‘morning after room’ of Club Bandit, Nick stripped the sheets and soft coverlet off the Queen bed and threw them in the laundry basket. He packed his rolling suitcase that served as his toy bag and did a double take to ensure it was tidy.
Having these rooms as an option for quieter scenes or a quickie was awesome because he never brought women home with him.
The bathroom door opened, and the sub he played with, Sabrina? Monica? Strode over to him, her red high heels showing off long legs, her hair perfectly brushed back. “Thank you for the play tonight, Sir. I think I’ll have marks,” she kissed him.
“My pleasure, ma bébé.”
