Page 109 of Double Down

Not only do I know how he looks at the women he wants, but I also know how he fights. I know the lines he will and won’t cross in an argument, and I know when he’s mad at someone else and when he’s mad at himself.

The venom in his words isn’t aimed at me at all. All that rage and anger and hate is aimed inward. If this is what he needs to do, I can take it. I’ve taken worse. I have thick skin.

“I know you never bring women up here unless they’re already here for a party. Why bother when you can fuck them in the casino or a spare room without getting housekeeping to change your sheets or dealing with awkward conversations after?”

“Maybe I changed my mind,” he says. “Maybe I felt like we needed a different woman to share.”

“Maybe you’re being a self-centered coward, and I want to know why.” I step closer. “Someone is targeting you. Someone is leaving the bodies of women you hook up with in your apartment. You’re risking her life.”

“Don’t fucking push me, Phoenix,” he growls, squaring his shoulders.

“Then don’t fucking lie to me, Maverick,” I sneer, using his name the way he spat mine. “You’re the one who said if I belong to all of you, then you belong to me, too. Those are the words that you used. Not Storm. Or Atticus. Or Conrad. That was you, Maverick.”

“Phoenix—” Con says, but I ignore him as Mav gets a little closer to me.

“Don’t you dare take another step toward her,” Storm’s voice drops—low, deadly—and I stop.

Everyone is watching us, waiting to see how this plays out. Mav and I need this conversation, but not with an audience.

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” I snap at Mav, then pivot to Storm. “You need to go.”

“I’ll fucking kill him if he?—”

“He won’t.” I cup Storm’s chin, and he presses his face into my palm. “Not physically, but he and I need to sort some shit out. Can you show Atticus the files for the spa staff? And Conrad is going to need the contracts for the vendor list to see what he can do if that’s where the drugs are coming from.”

Storm still glares past me.

“Please?” I ask. “I promise I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, because I know where he sleeps.” Storm kisses my cheek and presses his blade into my palm.

Atticus gives a small nod. He knows exactly what I’m doing, and he leads Storm and Con to his office. They give us our privacy, but they stay close.

I take a breath and turn back to Maverick. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, boredom painted on his face. To anyone else he looks casual, annoyed.

I’m not anyone else.

I see the exhaustion and pain in his eyes. The tension in his body. The way he glances around, hunting for an exit.

“Tell me why,” I say again, letting my own mask fall. “Did you just want to rub her in my face? Show me I’m not good enough for you? I already knew that.”

He scoffs. “I don’t remember asking you to be my girlfriend, Phoenix. We’re not exclusive.”

“Didn’t you? You killed for me, you held me while I slept, you got rid of bodies for me, you protected me. Do you do all of that for every girl you fuck? Am I just another wet cunt to stick your dick in?”

I’m intentionally crass. He needs to feel it. And he needs to know there isn’t a thing he can say I haven’t already told myself.

His jaw ticks as he pushes off the wall and towers over me. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare what?”

“Pretend you don’t know what’s going on. Act like none of this is real and it’s all in my head,” he seethes.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on.” I scream it. “I have no idea what’s happening at any goddamn moment, because you and the others shut me out. So no, I’m not pretending shit. I really have no fucking clue.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. Poor little girl spends all day being protected and taken care of and dicked down whenever she wants, but she’s upset I’m not at her beck and call. That maybe I wanted to spend a little time not being someone’s second, third, or fucking fourth goddamn choice.”

Before I register it, my hand flies and slams across Maverick’s face.