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  ‘Yes, I’ve found out quite a lot actually. Joseph is a family name, the grandfather Joseph Eugene Galante the second was tied to the King Club when the Rosebud Ballroom burned down in nineteen thirty-one. That’s the first record of a Galante being associated with the King Club. I have to say though that it’s only listed as rumour, and no one was ever charged with the arson.’

  ‘Who profited?’

  ‘The ballroom,’ she said, flicking through some photocopies in one file, ‘was insured by the Johnson-Davis Company, they owned a dozen clubs around the city then. They cashed in the insurance.’

  ‘You really did your homework. I’m impressed.’

  ‘That’s just the tip of the iceberg. What did you find out?’

  ‘That Michael Lewis is as pathetic as I imagined,’ he sneered.

  ‘You’re angry?’ she asked, as Rushe sat at the table.

  ‘Damn right, the man should’ve stepped up.’

  ‘Not everyone’s as happy to take charge as you are, Lover.’

  Rushe picked up her file of biographies and read without expression. ‘You’ve got everything.’

  ‘Everyone I could find associated with the King Club. No one talks about it directly, but it pops up now and again in a police or newspaper report.’

  ‘It would’ve taken me weeks to get this far.’

  ‘Because you don’t like paper, you like action. And because you can’t be in two places at once. We’re going to make a good team, Rushe.’

  When his eyes rose over the top of the file, she could tell he still wasn’t convinced. ‘Do they still own nightclubs now?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, picking up another file and handing it over. ‘They go by the moniker the JD Group now, but yeah.’

  ‘Four clubs in the city.’

  ‘Joseph Galante the third, Joey’s father, owns a casino on the waterfront. It’s part of the Waterside Hotel complex, though the hotel itself is owned by Evan Whyte... he has a financial stake in a couple of the JD Group clubs too, but...’

  ‘What?’ Rushe asked, lowering the file.

  ‘Forgive the pun but... Whyte is white. Whiter than white. I came across dozens of newspaper articles and press releases about his altruism. And he’s never appeared in a police report. He’s thirty-two, Joey Junior’s contemporary. I found their yearbook, they went to school together.’

  ‘You found the yearbook?’

  ‘The high school has them archived online,’ Flick said. ‘The boys were in the same year, there are pictures of them together at events. They knew each other.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘If Lisa ran away with Joey... I can’t see how... I mean, if Joseph Senior owns a casino in Whyte’s complex, and the boys knew each other at school, it’s a long-term friendship. Whyte has to know something.’

  ‘So you think we rock up to Evan Whyte and ask about Lisa Lewis?’

  Flick shrugged. ‘Why not? At the very worst he’ll tell us he doesn’t know anything.’

  ‘You think that’s the worst thing that can happen?’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘I think we don’t know enough yet.’ Rushe said. ‘People who go to great lengths to be seen as respectable are usually the most crooked.’

  ‘So what next?’

  ‘Sex.’

  Flick had whiplash from the turn around. ‘But what about—‘

  ‘Take off your clothes.’

  ‘But—‘

  ‘Kitten.’

  He would always keep her guessing, and though Flick stood, she didn’t move. What she’d forgotten about for half a second was Rushe’s infinite patience; no one would win a staring contest against him.

  So instead, Flick used the strongest weapon in her arsenal to entice him. One button at a time she unfastened her shirt, and with each of her deliberate movements, she watched Rushe grind his teeth.

  Eventually parting the fabric, Flick revealed her satin covered breasts, causing Rushe to growl aloud. Taking hold of the corner of the dining table as he too got to his feet, he tipped the thing onto its side out of the way, removing the barrier from between them with a deafening crash.

  The violent action sent her libido into overdrive, but Flick didn’t have time to do anything. Rushe grabbed the cups of her bra and tore them from her body to expose her flesh. He took her in handfuls and pushed her backward until she hit the wall by the kitchen. His mouth closed over her breast and he twisted the other nipple in the joint of his thumb, then she was up, off her feet, off the floor.

  ‘You don’t play with me,’ he snapped. ‘You’re a cocky little kitten; let’s see how much cock you can take.’

  Pushing his hand to the top of her head, he compelled her downward to her knees. Opening his jeans, Rushe wasted no time stuffing his erection into her mouth. After the abrupt move he pulled back, and flattening his hands to the wall, he let Flick control the pace.

  ‘Look at me!’ he demanded, and she cast her eyes upward while sucking him off. ‘Feel clever now, do you? You want to give me lip?’

  Withdrawing, he took hold of her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. ‘Rushe—‘

  ‘Quiet!’

  Rushe crouched to hook her knees over his arms; he straightened, boosting her up against the wall. A long time ago, he’d held her like this; open to him, exposed, at that shack before they’d been intimate. As her lover tried to hold onto his ferocity, Flick laid her palm on his cheek. The soothing action was enough to infuriate him again, and he stabbed his dick into her.

  ‘Rushe!’

  ‘Quiet!’ he demanded again. ‘I’m gonna fuck your pussy raw.’

  Flick squeezed her lips together to hold in the carnal noises trying to erupt from within her. Wriggling forward, she slanted her hips to ensure her clit made contact with his groin when it pounded against her.

  ‘You like that? Did I tell you to enjoy yourself? You think I want you coming on my cock? Do you? Speak.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good girl. You love my cock, don’t you? Love it when I fuck that tight cunt of yours. You’re my whore. Speak.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’m your whore.’

  Rushe pulled out, and then jammed back into her, his grasp on her hips ensuring every plunge smacked them together. Calling out for him, Flick couldn’t catch a breath. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t feel. This was more intense, this was like the old days, when everything was so uncertain. Rushe couldn’t know the way out then, just as he couldn’t now, and that was what tormented him.

  The true cause of this wildness in Rushe was his quest for order. He wanted to be in control, felt he had to be in control. But he couldn’t control everything, and the last job had demonstrated that to him.

  Having a long-term partner had never featured in his plans, yet here they were. Some part of Rushe had to feel that his life was spiralling downward, and when he fought to regain the reins this happened.

  His mind had an ability to see half a dozen moves ahead. At least he had been capable of that before her. Flick stood up to him, she didn’t cower, and Rushe admired that. What Rushe didn’t realise was that the confidence in her came from him.

  Rushe gave her the right, the arrogance, and the ability to stand up for herself, and for what she cared about. Rushe needed a strong woman, and right now as she matched him thrust for thrust their eyes met, and with a crushing force his pelvis slammed her into the wall and he called out. His feral roar shivered through her. This wasn’t his usual call of climax, something was different, and Flick felt fear in a way that was new to her.

  He panted short wet breaths against her temple. He didn’t back off, he kept her sandwiched there, leaving Flick without enough room to take a deep breath.

  ‘I love you, Kitten,’ he murmured eventually.

  ‘Tell me what’s different,’ Flick said, still sensing the danger ahead. ‘You’re different, something’s different. Something’s about to change, isn’t it? What is it?’

  ‘I’m leaving.’
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  Flick heard what he said, but it took her a dozen seconds to react. ‘No, you’re not.’

  ‘Just for a day or two, could be a week.’

  ‘No,’ Flick said, trying to wriggle free, but Rushe didn’t give her an inch. ‘I’m going with you.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ he said. ‘I’ll come back.’

  ‘No, where are you going?’

  ‘It’s deep background.’

  ‘So take me with you.’

  ‘It’s not gonna happen,’ he said. ‘You’re gonna stay here. Keep poking around.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ Flick said. ‘How will I get in touch with you? What if something happens? What if you need back up?’

  ‘I won’t,’ he said. ‘I have to establish cover—‘

  ‘A minute ago it was deep background,’ she argued. ‘Would you please move? It feels uncivilised to argue while your penis is still inside me.’ At the reminder, Rushe grew hard again. ‘No more sex. Not until you promise to stay.’

  ‘There was a time you tried to tempt me to stay with you by using sex.’

  ‘It didn’t work then,’ she said. ‘You can get pussy anywhere.’

  ‘True.’

  One word and she stopped; her hands fell from his shoulders to her sides. ‘You’re going now, aren’t you?’

  ‘I came back to fuck you.’

  ‘You came back to be a bastard, because somewhere in that convoluted mind of yours you think that hurting me is going to make this easier on us.’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck about easier,’ he snapped.

  ‘You’re creating distance,’ she said. ‘Is that in case something goes wrong? Do you think if you get killed I’ll get over it faster if the last time we spoke you were a prick?’

  ‘Trust a bitch to overreact.’

  ‘Do you want me to dislike you? Is that the goal here? You certainly didn’t come back to prepare me for your death. You’re so pragmatic that you’ve already told me about the safe deposit box with the money. You gave me my own key,’ she said. ‘You explained about the hidden car key and the essentials pack in the trunk. Maybe I’ll just run off with all of it while you’re not here.’

  ‘Give me less of the earache.’

  ‘You’re so frustrating!’ Rushe glared and dropped her back to the floor. Flick took a few seconds to catch her balance before she noticed that he’d turned away to button his jeans. ‘You tell me you love me and then... is this about getting into character?’

  He whirled to face her. ‘Character?’

  ‘I know you need to be detached, I’ve seen how easily you put on that mask.’

  With a huff, he took one stride toward her, bringing her back up against the wall they’d just screwed against. ‘I haven’t been on a job this last three months; you sure made for an interesting vacation.’

  ‘You’re not going to convince me that this meant nothing, that I mean nothing. I know you love me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he hissed, and the anger in his eyes fell to her mouth, then her breasts. ‘Why the fuck did I have to fall for you?’

  Flick knew his life would be easier if he didn’t love her, and he’d told her as much straight out. But she also knew that lashing out, his anger, his demanding sexual nature, was his go-to place. This was the man he’d been all of his life, the man he still was. In truth, the man who had been patient with her, who had communicated and made love with her, he was the new man; he was the man she created.

  ‘Will you make love to me?’

  His attention snapped upward, and Flick knew that the despondency in her heart was written all over her face. Her breathing hadn’t returned to normal yet, but the longer he remained silent, the more her breaths grew shorter, sharper, more panicked, and it wasn’t until she blinked and moisture scored her cheeks that Flick realised she was crying.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ he exhaled.

  The only thing Rushe hated more than being out of control was seeing her cry; maybe it was every woman, Flick wasn’t sure. But every time she cried he got this look of pain and discomfort on his face.

  ‘Will you?’

  His hand came up between them, the back of his fingers drifted toward her face and for half a beat it was like Rushe was in a trance, mesmerised by the water on her skin. But as quickly as it was there it vanished. His brow came down, his anger snapped into place, and his hand fell away.

  ‘No.’

  ‘But—‘

  ‘I don’t have time to screw you again,’ he said.

  Though what they’d just done wasn’t making love, and they both knew that. Flick wouldn’t ask him a second time. Everything about their sex life had been amazing, they’d shared everything in equal measure, it had been just right, until now.

  Flick was afraid of what might be on the horizon, and her words betrayed that fear, which would be exactly why he refused her. Rushe knew her emotions; he was so perceptive of them. If he conceded to a long, slow show of dedication with their bodies, he’d be conceding that she had a reason to be afraid.

  Neither of them had spoken for a few seconds, with a look to one eye and then the other Rushe nodded once, and turned his back on her. He disappeared into the bedroom and came back less than a minute later with a duffel bag in hand. Flick knew that duffel, because she’d seen it before.

  ‘Finish yourself off when I’m gone,’ he said, grabbing up the files from the floor and then marching straight past her. Rushe dumped the duffel at the door to retrieve his leather jacket from the closet. ‘Play with yourself as much as you want. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. The last thing I want to come back to is a clingy, randy slut.’

  Flick stayed against the wall feeling somewhat numb to his words. The man she loved was leaving her to go out into the unknown. Distance was what he wanted because isolation was what he was used to. The possibility of them being separated on jobs had always existed, but Flick had hoped for more notice.

  ‘The condoms are in the second drawer of your nightstand,’ Flick said, staring out into the empty room. ‘Don’t forget them.’

  The closet door slammed with a dull thud, and she knew his hands were spread out flat on it. ‘Thanks,’ came the deep reply. ‘But I’ll get more.’

  ‘Wouldn’t want you bringing anything back to the family bed.’

  ‘Goddamnit, Flick!’

  The pound of his fist bursting wood startled her, but she kept her place. ‘Lock the door on your way out. I’ve got to go and shower your scent from my body.’

  Resignation weighed heavily in her soul. Saying goodbye had never hurt like this. Part of her hoped he’d follow, so when she crossed the bedroom threshold, she paused. For a few seconds Flick heard nothing, which made her believe he was considering it.

  But the front door opened, she heard the lock drop, and then the door was closed. Just like that. He’d gone. He’d left her. More tears fell, but she swiped them away and shook her head. Flick was not going to fall apart just because he was gone. Rushe was going to do a job, and this was her chance to show that she could pull her weight on the team. He’d told her to poke around and that was exactly what she planned to do.

  Chapter Six

  Insomnia turned out to be a side effect of occupying their bed alone. In the period they’d been living together, the only time Flick slept alone was if Rushe left her in bed in the morning. On the third night of her suffering, she took a sleeping pill to knock herself out.

  Knowing that Rushe was possibly dealing with danger made Flick worry for his safety, though she knew he could take care of himself. His body wasn’t the only thing that she missed.

  During their last encounter, she’d been cruel. Flick had to learn that it wasn’t necessary to respond to him in kind. They could bring out the worst in each other. But by the same sentiment, they brought out the best too.

  The morning after Rushe left, Flick had gone back to the library to bring her work together. By chance, she had looked through the day’s newspapers and to her surprise,
there was a job vacancy advertised. Cocktail waitresses were required for the Waterside Casino’s Private Lounge, Joseph Galante Senior’s casino. The Lounge was the same one that Michael Lewis had mentioned in reference to his sister’s employment.

  The adjoining casino and hotel buildings held the answers, so originally it had been Flick’s plan to reserve a stay in the Waterside Hotel, in hope that proximity would lead to some revelations. But if she could get a job in the Lounge, it afforded her the perfect opportunity to walk in Lisa’s shoes and maybe get close to the teen.

  Ignoring her apprehension, Flick called the advertised number from the public phone in the library and arranged her interview for the following day.

  The guy who had interviewed her didn’t care that she’d never worked in a bar because she wouldn’t be pouring the drinks, only serving them. The most important part of the interview seemed to be what she thought of the uniform, or rather what she looked like in it.

  The uniform consisted of black patent stilettos with a platform sole, seamed stockings with a suspender belt, and a micro-mini red dress with black lace trim, which left half of her ass on view. This was a job in the Lounge. The interviewer was a broad black man called Ray. Never once did he look her in the eye. He told her to show up the following night, and advised her that ‘Marv’ ran the bar.

  So tonight was her first night, and Flick followed the instructions to pull her hair up high on her head and fasten it with the large black satin bow on elastic that she’d been provided with. Then she’d donned her uniform and looked at herself in the mirror.

  The dress struggled to cover her decency, and the trouble with a dress tailored for a shorter woman was that it never took account of her generous chest. The off-shoulder neckline struggled to keep Flick’s unbound breasts in place. People on the street didn’t need to see her like this, so she covered herself with a knee-length wool coat and ran out of the apartment to catch a cab.

  One solace was her familiarity of walking in such high heels; Flick was, in fact, a pro, having done it all her life. The dress was restrictive, but she’d scored the jackpot in acquiring this job. No one paid any attention to the staff serving the drinks. While Lisa worked this same job, she’d caught someone’s eye. Now Flick had the chance to find out whose eye that was, or maybe find the teen herself.