Play to Win (2 page)

P
arker's dead.”

Ryker stared at me, seemingly uncomprehending. Not that I could blame him. I'd just arrived on his doorstep in the middle of the night, though it didn't look like he'd been asleep.

“They came to my apartment,” I continued, my voice flat. “They took me and they killed him. They just…killed him.” I couldn't continue. Tears poured from my eyes as I began to sob. I'd been numb before, the ordeal of being kidnapped necessitating a distance from the horror of what had happened in my apartment. Was Parker's body there even now?

I couldn't breathe. Ryker was talking to me but I couldn't hear him and I still couldn't breathe. My knees buckled and if he hadn't had a hold of me, I would've crumpled to the floor.

“Sage! Listen to me…” Ryker implored, but I barely heard him.

Suddenly, I was torn from his grasp. A hand forced my chin up and I blinked open my eyes—

Parker.

I gasped, stumbling backward, but he caught me.

“I'm okay,” he said, his blue eyes boring into mine. “They didn't kill me. I'm all right.”

My jaw was hanging open, my sobs abruptly cut off, and then I threw myself at him.

“Oh my God oh my God on my God,” I kept repeating, my arms circling his neck so tightly I had to be choking him. Not that he seemed to mind. “You're here! You're okay.” More tears, but this time of relief rather than heartbreak.

Parker held me just as close, his arms around my waist just this side of painfully tight. His face was buried in my neck and I savored the feel of him in a way I never had before…because I'd never been so close to losing him as I had come tonight.

The sound of Ryker clearing his throat brought me back to the here and now, and I pulled back, releasing Parker. He let me go, albeit reluctantly it seemed. An uncomfortable awareness settled over me as I stepped away to put some space between Parker and me. Ryker stood a few feet away, shirtless with a bandage covering the burn on his chest, watching us.

“So, um, how, uh, how did you get here?” I asked Parker, hurriedly swiping my wet cheeks. My voice was hoarse and I avoided both their gazes, instead sinking onto the couch. I glanced around hopefully for McClane, but remembered he was still recuperating at the vet's.

“Ryker showed up just in time, before Leo and his men decided to finish me off,” Parker said.

Leo Shea. Crime boss, ruthless “businessman,” and the guy who'd not only tried to kill me but had decided to kill Parker, too. Lives meant nothing to him. Parker's had been for expediency; mine was for revenge. Only luck in the former and the timely intervention of my father in the latter had thwarted Leo.

“And your apartment needs another cleanup job, by the way. I'll call to get it done.”

Good to know. I wondered if whoever the CIA used for that sort of thing offered a discount for frequent customers.

“I knew they'd taken you,” Parker continued. “Ryker has weapons and ammunition, so we came here.”

He didn't continue, but I could fill in the rest. They'd been on their way to rescue me. Well, at least they could agree on something at last.

And Ryker had ended up keeping Parker alive. I remembered now. Ryker had dropped me off at my place, then left to go to the police station, but had said he'd be back. Looked like his timing couldn't have been better. He'd saved Parker, a man he supposedly hated.

Now the two men stood a few feet apart, both looking at me. The enormity of all that had happened during the past few days washed over me and I lifted a hand to rub my forehead. Ryker had said he wasn't giving up on me, and Parker had told me he loved me. My headache seemed to grow exponentially, especially when images of Parker and me in my bed flashed through my mind.

“Let me get you an ice pack for your eye,” Ryker said, heading into the kitchen. He was back in moments, crouching down next to me and gently pressing an ice cold bundle to my eye.

“Thanks,” I murmured. The cold brought relief to my throbbing head. Leo had a mean right hook, but he'd paid for that and paid dearly.

A mobster and a bully—though that was probably redundant—Leo Shea had kidnapped me and nearly killed Parker. Leo would've killed me if not for the precipitous arrival of a most unlikely savior: my dad. Well, not just him, but lots of large, gun-toting men who'd taken care of Leo and his goons in a very permanent way. It seemed my dad had secrets I'd known nothing about.

But I would wait until later to think about that because I had more pressing problems at the moment—in the form of two large, alpha men staring at me as though waiting for something.

“So, um, what now?” I asked the room at large, because I honestly had no clue.

I was with two men. I'd slept with both of them, I loved both of them, but everyone knew two was company and three was a crowd. I just wasn't sure at this point if
I
wouldn't be the one tossed from the group.

“You're exhausted,” Ryker said. “You need rest.”

Sleep. Yes, sleep sounded really, really good. My whole body hurt and my heart still ached from the beating it had taken over the past twenty-four hours. Before Leo had gotten involved and nearly killed Parker, I'd almost lost both him and Ryker to Viktor, a crazy Russian mafia guy who'd made me watch while he tortured them. I shuddered even now as images of them both—bleeding and bruised—flitted through my mind.

Taking my hand, Ryker pulled me to my feet to lead me from the room, but I put on the brakes.

“What about you?” I asked Parker. “Are you leaving?” The anxiety that thought produced had my stomach turning itself into knots.

He must've read my mind because he said, “Not if you don't want me to.” He glanced at Ryker. “I'm sure Ryker won't mind me camping out on his couch tonight.”

“That's fine.”

Something passed between the two of them, but I was too tired to examine the tension in the air. Relieved that Parker wasn't leaving had me nodding. “Good. Okay, then.”

I let Ryker lead me to his bedroom. He sat me down and removed my shoes. I shucked my jeans and climbed underneath the covers. Ryker had on a pair of sweat pants and joined me, turning off the bedside lamp before pulling me into his arms. I settled against his chest with a sigh that felt soul-deep, and was asleep in moments.

Screaming woke me, then I realized it was my own.

“Sage…hey, it's okay; you're okay…”

I was sitting straight up in bed and Ryker was next to me, his hand on my arm, his voice anxious as he tried to get through to me. He'd turned the light on, but apparently even that hadn't been enough to break through to me.

“Viktor…” I gasped. Images from my nightmare were still vivid inside my head: images of him torturing and tormenting Parker and Ryker.

The door flew open.

“Sage…” Parker said, standing in the doorway. His face was drawn in lines of worry as he looked at me. Instinctively, I reached for him. His hand was instantly in mine as he sat beside me.

“Oh God,” I breathed, my eyes slipping shut. Ryker's hand slipped from my arm, but I grasped it, holding him tight.

No one said a word as I tried to gain control. Tremors shook me. Lord only knew how much therapy I was going to need in the future to move past what had happened, but tonight the only therapy I needed was holding each of my hands.

I lay back down on the bed, scooting until I was in the middle. Both Parker and Ryker were looking at me with their best poker faces.

“I'm tired,” I said, looking at them both expectantly. I had a hold of each of them so unless one of them tried to pull away, no one was going anywhere. An odd request? Absolutely. But I'd had a really rough few days and I figured if I wanted to get any rest tonight, my subconscious was going to be appeased only one way.

Neither man looked happy with the situation once they realized what I wanted, but they both complied, lying down on either side of me in identical, stiff positions. Ryker turned off the light and I closed my eyes. I could feel both of them pressed against my sides, the warmth of their skin heating the chill of mine. If I listened, I could hear them breathe, and that sound comforted me. A smile flitted across my face, and I relaxed.

T
here might be better ways to wake up than sandwiched between two half-naked men, but if there was, I couldn't imagine what it would be.

Early morning light filtered through the window blinds as I blinked a few times and debated whether I wanted to move.

We were sleeping spoon-style, all three of us, my front pressed against Ryker's back with Parker cradling me from behind, his arm slung over my waist. It was warm and cozy and I felt like I never wanted to move.

They were both here, whole and safe. Ryker's chest rose and fell steadily and I could feel Parker's breath stir my hair. The terror from my nightmare seemed a world away. I felt safe with both of them looming over me in the bed, and I memorized the feeling. I'd felt
un
safe too often lately.

God, what day was it? I'd lost track with all that had happened. It wasn't like I had to get up for work. Last I'd checked, I was unemployed, thanks to telling my boss—the man currently spooning me—that I'd quit.

Not that I'd had much of a choice. Once you sleep with your boss and tell him you love him, that's pretty much a Point of No Return right there. Or maybe that point had been when I'd dated (and yes, slept with) his arch frenemy—the man
I
was currently spooning.

Being hunted by Russian mafia bosses and hit men would turn any girl's life into a soap opera, right?

Right.

I frowned, not wanting to think about the current disastrous state of my life. At this moment in time, everything was perfect, and I didn't want to face reality. Not yet.

Unfortunately, reality didn't feel the same way about me, because no sooner had I thought that than Parker's arm tightened around me. He snuggled closer, close enough for me to feel that his body was most assuredly not undergoing any lasting side effects from Viktor's torture, but was most wholeheartedly embracing the morning.

Okay, so I was a red-blooded woman who'd maybe read one too many romance novels, but the thoughts that flashed through my head weren't of a high standard at that moment. I cursed ethics and morals and all those things that kept me from pressing my lips to Ryker's naked back and pushing my hips back into Parker's.

Oh, for a bottle of tequila and an inadequate respect for propriety…

As though he'd heard my thoughts, Ryker stirred, turning onto his back. My hand fluttered for a moment, then settled softly on his chest. His dog tags were tangled about his neck and my gaze wandered over his chest and ab muscles to the white bandage covering the burn.

I thought I should probably get up before I did something colossally stupid. It seemed my hormones wanted to celebrate the fact that we were all alive and well, an urge I heartily seconded but one which I doubted the men would appreciate very much.

Squirming a little, I tried to ease out of the smidge of space I was wedged into without waking either of them.

“If you leave me in bed alone with another man, I'll have to fire you.”

Parker's murmured words in my ear made me smile in spite of myself.

“You can't fire me. I already quit, remember?”

“Yes, but I was hoping you didn't.”

“So much for wishing this didn't really happen,” Ryker interrupted, cracking his eyes open and slanting a look at me.

“Pretend it's the zombie apocalypse,” I suggested. “We're huddling for warmth and survival.”

His lips twitched. Then his gaze fell to where Parker's arm was around me, and even that tiny smile faded entirely.

Yep. Time to cut this short, since it looked like I was the only one already composing a letter to
Penthouse Forum
in my head.

I scooted down the mattress and got up before either of them could say anything else. Both sets of blue eyes followed me. Acutely aware that I wore only a T-shirt and panties, I scooted into the bathroom.

Squinting into the mirror, I grimaced. My eye was no longer swollen, but I looked like I'd been in a bar fight…and lost. Badly.

A long, hot shower later, I felt better. Of course, I had no clothes, so I wrapped myself in a towel and went in search of a T-shirt to borrow and my jeans. The bedroom was now deserted and I quickly grabbed what I needed, then went to find the men currently occupying my every thought.

I heard voices coming from the kitchen and paused where I stood in the hallway.

“…not the same type of person Natalie was,” Parker was saying. “I know you don't want to hear about her, but I never lied to you.”

“Natalie was never the problem.
You
were,” Ryker retorted. “You think I didn't know how you were manipulating her?”

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked. “I didn't manipulate her. It was her idea. She said she had feelings for me, that she didn't love you anymore.”

“She thought I would hate her for sleeping with you,” Ryker argued. “But I loved her. I wasn't going to let her go just because she made a dumb mistake with you.”

“It wasn't a mistake, and I wasn't going to be a part of her games any longer. I thought our friendship was worth more than a woman. She tore us apart, Ryker.”

I winced at the leashed anger in Parker's voice.

“Bullshit. You betrayed me and our friendship. Don't blame Natalie.”

“I wanted you to see that she wasn't who you thought she was,” Parker argued.

“So is that what you're doing with Sage?” Ryker asked, also angry. “Using her to teach me a lesson?”

I sucked in a breath, shocked. That wasn't true, was it? Parker wouldn't do that. He cared about me. Maybe he didn't love me, but he cared on some level.

“Of course not—”

I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“—but we need to decide what's going to happen from here,” Parker finished.

“It's not up to us,” Ryker said. “Sage is calling the shots.”

“And what are you going to do if she picks me?” Parker said. “You going to go apeshit?”

“Who says she's going to pick you?” Ryker shot back. “That's just like you, thinking you must be the one she wants. You've had the opportunity to be with Sage for over a year. I find it a little too coincidental that you wait until now to decide she's someone worth having.”

“That's not true,” Parker denied. “As usual, you're jumping to the absolutely wrong conclusion.”

I decided I'd had enough of them arguing, and my eavesdropping. I stepped into the kitchen.

Both men fell silent. I looked from one to the other.

“I was really glad last night that you two seemed to have patched things up,” I said. “But I'm not like Natalie. I'm not going to break something that's finally been repaired.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ryker asked.

Parker remained silent, his gaze shrewd as he studied me, and I wondered if he knew what I was going to say before I said it.

“It means I'm breaking up…with both of you.”

Hard words to say, and the frightened woman inside who'd needed both of them to sleep last night looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. I ignored her.

“Ryker,” I began, walking toward him and resting my palm on his chest. “This has been an amazing few months with you. I've had a lot of fun and you…you've come to mean a lot to me. I wish you nothing but the best.” Stretching up on tiptoe, I pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, then turned to Parker.

“I've worked for you for quite a while, and I loved it. I respect and admire you, and will always cherish the time that we had.” Tears were starting to clog my throat, but I swallowed them down. Repeating the same kiss with Parker that I'd given Ryker, I moved away from them both.

“Sage, don't do this—” Parker began, but I held up my hand to stop him.

“You two were best friends, in a way that should never have been broken. You were idiots to let a woman come between you then, and I'll be damned if I let history repeat itself.”

A car honked outside.

“That's my ride,” I said. I'd called my dad after my shower and asked him to send a car for me. He'd asked no questions. “So, I guess…I'll see you around.”

Their faces were unreadable, and I memorized the way they looked, standing there together. Two formidable men with testosterone nearly seeping from their pores, their jaws shadowed with stubble, bruises and scars from the recent ordeals we'd been through marking their bare arms and knuckles. Even Parker seemed to have lost his veneer of sophistication; his edges were more raw than I was accustomed to.

The doorway seemed a long way away and it blurred as I hurried toward it. I swiped my cheeks, wondering how I'd managed to fall in love with two men…then lose them both.

I went out the door to the waiting car and climbed in the back.

“Where to, Miss Sage?” Shultz, my family's driver, asked.

“Take me home, please,” I managed. “Real home. Not my apartment.” I felt a sudden need to see my mother and hear her reassure me that everything would be okay.

And maybe it would be. Someday.

“Any plans today?” my mother asked as I poured myself a cup of coffee. It had been two weeks since I'd come home, and most of that time had been spent padding morosely around the house from one room to another. I couldn't seem to find peace of mind. Every place I went, I couldn't escape the images of Parker and Ryker inside my head. My bedroom was the worst. It was where Parker and I had first made love. I'd torn off the sheets and thrown them away the first night I'd been home, unable to face sleeping in them, imagining I could still smell him—smell us—on the fabric.

“Um, I dunno,” I muttered. “I hadn't really thought about it.”

“Well, I just thought it would be nice if you got dressed today,” she said mildly. “Maybe do your hair? I could make an appointment at the spa for you.”

Okay, so I'd been too depressed to worry much about my appearance. I was without a job and without a boyfriend, two states of being that I thought were worth a bit of self-pity.

“It's not like I smell,” I said defensively. At least, I didn't
think
I smelled. I sniffed cautiously.

“Of course not, dear,” she said. “But you can't go on like this. You have to pick yourself up and move on.”

I sat in a heap at the kitchen table, head in my hands. My robe hung open over my pajamas, even though it was after noon.

“I know; you're right,” I said with a sigh. “It's just…hard.” I missed them. Both of them. I'd come clean with my mom the day I'd arrived, a sobbing mess with a nasty black eye. She'd held me and soothed my tears and listened.

“I know it is,” she said now, sitting in the chair next to me at the table. “But the Sage I know is a fighter. You've mourned; now it's time to pick up and move on.”

I knew my mom was just trying to help. She'd never kick me out if I wanted to stay, and lord only knew there was plenty of room for three people in their six thousand-plus square-foot home in the exclusive Chicago suburb of Lake Forest for three people. Well, five I guess, though Schultz—my dad's driver—and Rita—the cook—didn't actually sleep here.

“I guess I could go to the spa,” I said. No sense jumping right on into a job search. Easing back into life sounded way better anyway. Even if I'd been the one doing the breaking up, I deserved a spa day, right?

“Good idea.” Mom beamed as though I'd been the one to suggest it in the first place.

Six hours, one manicure, one pedicure, a massage, a haircut, and a facial later and I was feeling more like my old self. I decided it was time to confront my father.

I went to his study, knocking on the door before pushing it open. As I'd expected, he was behind his desk going through a stack of papers. My dad was a workaholic, but since he was at home rather than being at the office for twelve hours a day, Mom didn't complain. He glanced up.

“Sweetheart! Good to see you up and around. How was the spa?”

“It was fine,” I said, settling into a chair opposite his desk.

“So what can I do for you today?” he asked.

I gave him a look. “Really? You really don't know why I'm in here?”

Giving me a small smile, he said, “I assumed we'd have this conversation at some point, yes. You're telling me that time is now.”

“Who were those guys, Dad?” I asked, referring to the men with guns who'd accompanied him to free me from Leo Shea's clutches.

“They work for me.”

“You employ men for the sole purpose of killing people?” I asked, incredulous.

Dad snorted. “Don't be ridiculous. They're security for my business. Most of them are former military. Men who have incredible skills that can sometimes go unappreciated in a civilian occupation. They're not just guns-for-hire.”

“And why do you need that kind of security?” I asked.

My father sighed. “Sage, I realize you don't know a lot about how I run my business, but it's not easy being the largest liquor distributor in Chicago. I worked hard to get where I am, and people don't always play by the rules in business.”

“Do you?”

He gave a slight shrug. “I do my best. I don't ship anything illegal, but that doesn't stop some people from wanting to infringe on my territory, or try to put me out of business entirely.”

“Has it always been this way?” I asked. “Was I just oblivious growing up?”

“You don't remember—you were too little—but it started when someone threatened you and your mom,” he said. “Your mother was driving you home from the pediatrician one day when she had car trouble. This was before cell phones. A man stopped, supposedly to help her. Instead he threatened her, told her what would happen if I didn't do what this rival…company…wanted me to do. It scared her. And me.

“I decided then that I had two choices,” he continued. “I could capitulate, do what they wanted and forever be at the mercy of a man who wouldn't hesitate to hurt me or my family. Or I could fight back. I chose the latter.”