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That’s not counting how I got into this mess in the first place because I’d somehow caught Damien Libellula’s attention. Link insisting that I stay in the penthouse isn’t just his way of controlling me. I’d bartered my freedom for his protection and, well, this is it.
He’d deny that I was his prisoner. Technically, if I wanted to leave, I could, but the only condition is that I have to have someone with me. Of course, he wants that to be him. He’s taking his role as my husband very seriously, from eating dinner with me each night, bringing me home a trinket every time he leaves me behind, and climbing into bed with me so that he can perform his husbandly duties by making me scream his name into the darkness.
That first night was a fluke. At least, when it comes to how he put chasing his own orgasm before making it good for me; him indulging in cockwarming after he bones me into sleep is a regular occurrence. He explained to me that he was so determined to consummate our marriage in the bathroom that he wasn’t thinking about anything else, and he’s more than made up for it. There hasn’t been a single night since I moved into the penthouse that he doesn’t focus on my pleasure. Alternating before rough and gentle, frantic and sweet, every time I see a glimpse of the boy I knew, it only hurts me even more when I remember this could’ve been us.
It could’ve been us all along, if he didn’t put the life in front of a happily-ever-after with me.
He still does. Proof is in how much time he spends working on “business”. He might slip into bed with me every night, but that’s because it didn’t take long for him to realize some of my quirks. When I went to bed—in his, because I learned my lesson about trying to put some distance between us—the second night, he didn’t like that I fell asleep without him.
I had to explain that I was catching up on all the missed sleep from the night before. Besides, I’m not like him and his men. I don’t do my business at night, and I’m happily in bed by ten. Link didn’t say anything to that. He did, however, leave after dinner the next night only to return at quarter to ten so that he could take me to bed.
I was in bed by ten, but by the time Link was done with me, it was well after midnight when I curled up next to his sculpted body, tracing the elaborately-designed cross on his chest before I fell asleep. Hours later, I woke up to discover he was gone, and I tried not to let that sting.
He came home to me, but I’ve always heard that the Devil runs the night. Of course he would slip out to do whatever it is he does while I stay behind with whatever guard he posts in the penthouse with me.
There’s a different guy wandering around it whenever Link leaves. Glorified babysitting duty, I ruefully think of it. He was so annoyed when I asked if they were necessary that I decided not to bring it up again—thought I do spend my first two weeks as Mrs. Crewes pretending they’re not there.
There’s one of them who tries to be a little friendly with me. About my age, with short black hair and deep brown eyes, Bobby—seriously, he introduces himself asBobbydespite being at least thirty-five, thirty-six—seems to warm up to me when he finds out that I’m a teacher. He has a niece starting kindergarten in my school district, and his girlfriend does something for the school. He brushes me off when I ask if I might know here, but at least he treats me like a person and not his boss’s new pet.
Sometimes, I think he treats me with more consideration thanLinkdoes.
Do I use that against the soldier? I hate to admit it, but I totally do. Call it manipulative if you want, but I couldn’t see any other way around it. Link was purposely keeping me separate from the syndicate part of his life, and it was driving me crazy.
I’m the one who asked if this is supposed to be a marriage of convenience. If he just wanted me to pretend to be his wife, I would force myself not to care what he was doing. He’s the one who wants me to believe that this marriage is legit—so why is he hiding me away like I’m his dirty little secret?
If he’s really my husband, I want to get to know Link. It’s so hard for me to reconcile the rumors I’ve heard about the wicked Devil when I’ve only seen glimpses of his dark side. I almostwantto think this version of Link is as bad the stories make him out to be, because if he isn’t? I might have been better off waiting for the cops to come after me for shooting Joey.
I’m not made for prison, but I… I just don’t know if I’ll be able to survive Lincoln Crewes breaking my heart again.
He thinks he’s jealous. Of the two of us, co-dependant as we were once upon a time, I was always the worse one. He brawled for money. I got into slap fights when I saw some of the other girls who fawned over the fighters oohing and ah-ing over my Link.
Part of moving on meant I had to stop thinking about all the women he’s loved after me. Sex, I could forgive, but if he loved someone else? I never did. Sure, I’d taken a few lovers over the years, and I almost married Brandon, but I neverlovedhim. That’s why I called off our wedding at the last minute. It didn’t matter that Link walked out on me.
He’s the only man I ever loved, and even if I don’t know if I can love the man he’s become, I have the chance to. Hearing him tell me that there’s never been anyone after me—not a fling, not a one-night stand, and definitely no one else he admits to loving—has me halfway there.
Maybe I’m being naive, but I get the idea that, once he lets me into his entire life, we really can make this marriage work. And that’s why, one evening after dinner, when he leaves to take care of “something”, I point-blank ask Bobby where I can find Link if I need him.
Poor guy. He answers me before thinking, and I’m sure he’ll regret it later, but that doesn’t change a thing.
I have a name: The Devil’s Playground, the infamous nightclub run by the Sinners Syndicate on the West Side that I’ve heard of, but never visited for fear of accidentally seeing Link and having him look right through me.
It should’ve been obvious. It’s the Sinners headquarters, so of course he would spend a lot of his time there. But once I have confirmation… I decide it might be time to visit my husband at work.
He won’t be expecting me. Link never tells me where he goes when he leaves. He just says it’s ‘business’ and leaves it at that.
Well, tonight I’ll find out just what that means.
* * *
The Devil’s Playground.
With a stylized, neon green devil with a pitchfork and a pointed tail underlined the name in glowing white, I’m a little intimidated as I walk down the sidewalk.
Suddenly, I feel very underdressed.
That’s my fault. Knowing that I’m probably not supposed to leave the penthouse without telling anyone, I did anyway. I waited until Bobby disappeared into another room, taking a phone call, then ducked out why Mona was busy.
I googled the club on the elevator ride down, pleased to see it was only a ten-minute walk away. I pulled on my favorite sneakers just in case—after quickly rummaging through the packed boxes from my house that I haven’t brought myself to undo just yet—and left wearing the short-sleeve shirt and jeans I was wearing today.
