Chapter 10

TEN

I pocketed my phone, did another scan of the room, and located Catarina sitting stiffly next to Martin.

She played the part well. She looked scared and curious. Every so often her gaze skidded around the room before it went back to Martin, with pink tinging her cheeks. I had no idea how she made herself blush on command but it was damn impressive.

I’d just settled onto a stool at the bar, specifically located with a perfect view of the indoor pool that had no shortage of beautiful women lounging around it. Their demeanor open, flirtatious grins that stated plain they were up for anything. These were not the women who would be up for auction.

Jack would be running facial recognition throughout the night getting IDs on anyone who was captured on the small camera disguised as a button on my shirt. Which meant Jack had heard and seen everything I’d said to Atlee in the closet. If he was smart, he’d never mention it. But I knew that hope was fruitless. Jack was going to jump on that and give me shit. For some strange reason I couldn’t find it in me to care. Ensuring Atlee was safe and untangling her from the mess she’d found herself in was all that was important.

Tonight, I’d convince her to call in sick for the rest of the week. Or better yet, get her to go back to Idaho where I could put Rhode and River on her.

In the coming days, Asher would be joining me. Mia was a wildcard. Now that Catarina was playing Martin, I might need Mia to step in as backup. It wasn’t ideal, but Mia was smart and capable. She’d spent years around domestic abuse victims; she knew how to spot a predator and would have my back.

“What can I get you, handsome?” the bartender purred.

I swiveled to locate the bottles of liquor on display. I spotted the Double Eagle Very Rare in the signature crystal decanter with the eagle stopper.

“Eagle Rare.”

The bartender knew better than to ask if I wanted ice or a water back. Anyone caught diluting the eighteen-thousand-dollar bourbon should be hung.

She placed the tulip-shaped Glencairn glass on the polished walnut bar top and waited for her tip. I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from my pocket and laid it on the bar.

She smoothly confiscated her tip and smiled. “Thanks, gorgeous.”

I went back to taking in the room.

It was far too ostentatious for my liking. Luxury gone bad. All flash with copious marble and flamboyant furnishings. The perfect venue for a man who was flexing his wealth.

“Enjoying yourself?” Eden Dunhill inquired from beside me.

That hadn’t taken long.

Ms. Dunhill was Martin’s assistant. That was, if an assistant vetted potential buyers. She was known to be shrewd and smart and vicious with the women when they didn’t fall in line. It was rumored she oversaw Martin’s stable of hookers. Which meant she was there to watch over her girls as they serviced the guests as well and hand out invitations to the auction.

“That’s yet to be seen,” I replied then needlessly introduced myself. “Wilson Barker.”

Eden would’ve already run a background check on me before she approached.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barker. Is there something I can do for you to ensure your evening is what a man…” She carefully eyed me, her gaze falling to the bourbon, “…of your tastes expects?”

The noting of the bourbon was for show as was my perusal of the women on offer. None of them could hold a candle to Atlee’s beauty.

“And you are?”

“Mr. Jackson’s assistant, Eden.”

I let my gaze dip to her cleavage.

“Pleasure, Eden.”

“It could be very pleasurable, Mr. Barker.”

Well, fuck me, I hadn’t expected that.

“I’m sure you’re correct. However, I don’t mix business and pleasure. Unless, of course you’re on offer.”

I held her gaze, making sure she understood my meaning. Her normally brown eyes were hidden beneath colored contacts making them green. Her appearance tonight was a far cry from the average-looking woman I’d seen in pictures. She was prettier without the makeup and fake eyelashes.

“Alas, I am not.” She mock frowned.

“I’m not in the market to rent.”

“Ahh,” she hummed. “Then I’ll leave you to enjoy your bourbon and the show.”

“It is a damn fine bourbon.” I paused to take in the room. My gaze stopped on a couple near the pool. A woman on her knees between the legs of an older man, head bobbing, obviously giving him a blow job. “And the show’s not half bad.”

Red-tipped nails wrapped around my forearm.

“That’s Caroline. She gives world class head that’ll make you want to weep in ecstasy.” Eden squeezed my arm. “Let me know if you change your mind, first one’s on the house.”

Eden walked away and I quickly diverted my eyes.

I only had a few more hours before I could leave and scrub the scum off of me.

* * *

A few hourshad turned into five and by the time I’d left the villa my skin was crawling. Catarina had done more in one night than I’d thought possible. She’d hit her mark and kept him engaged the entire night. She’d gotten up several times to leave. Each time she’d let Martin talk her into staying longer. The line between scared and curious had blurred as the night wore on. She’d allowed Martin to get close, but managed to push back anytime he tried more than a touch to her cheek or a brush of his filthy mouth over her neck. The man never got his hands anywhere inappropriate but he was gagging for it. Catarina had been spot-on, Martin wanted the chase. He owned a stable of hookers who would freely give him anything he asked for. He’d have no interest in easy. The man wanted to possess innocence. He wanted to corrupt and break a woman.

Sick motherfucker.

I hadn’t left until Catarina had finally managed to leave. Before she’d slipped from the party she’d found me from across the room and gave me a small smile.

All reservations I had about her were gone.

Dawn was kissing the sky when I pulled up in front of Atlee’s building. She lived on the north end of the strip off Las Vegas Boulevard and Sahara. The white stucco with blue-tinted windows high-rise looked out of place behind the Bonanza Gift Shop.

Depending on which unit was hers she’d have a view of the strip and Circus Circus to the south or the Strat to the north.

As soon as I pulled into the parking structure a valet appeared. He gave the car an admiring once-over before he opened the door.

“Sir,” he greeted.

“I’m not staying.” I left the car running, pulled a bill from my pocket, and handed the valet a tip. “Mind turning her around?”

“Of course.”

I waited until I was in the lobby before I called Atlee.

She answered with a sleepy, “Lo?”

“Hey, princess, I’m in your lobby.”

“What?”

“Put some clothes on and come down.”

“What? Is everything okay?”

No. Nothing was okay. My night was spent watching Martin’s call girls service his guests while Eden worked the room like a madam. Atlee was wrapped up in this mess and I wanted her clear of it and I was tired as fuck. All I wanted to do was go back to my suite, shower my night away, then crawl into bed next to Atlee.

Out of all of that, it was my need to feel Atlee curled into me that was the most fucked-up.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Get dressed and come down or I’m coming up to get you.”

“The elevators don’t work—”

“I pulled up in a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car, I’ve got five grand in my pocket. If that doesn’t get me up to your condo I’ll call Rhode and he’ll have me upstairs within five minutes.”

I heard an annoyed sigh and the sound of her moving around.

“Fine. Don’t bribe the doorman, I’m coming down.”

I was too drained to smile at her irritable acquiesce.

A few minutes later, the elevator door opened and sleepy Atlee appeared in sweats and an oversized hoodie. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a haphazard bun, face clear of the minimal makeup she wore, and she had sneakers on her feet.

“I’m here,” she groused. “Now will you tell me why you are?”

“Do you have your keys?”

Her brows snapped together.

Fuck, she was cute when she was grumpy.

“Yes.”

I snatched her hand and tugged her to my side. When I had her where I wanted, I led her out into the brisk desert morning.

“Is that yours?” she asked when the Maybach came into view.

“It is for now.”

I opened the passenger door. She eyed the interior and carefully got in.

She waited until we’d passed the Grand before she tried again with a different question, “Where are we going?”

“My hotel.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to talk and I need a shower.”

Thankfully, traffic was light at five in the morning. Any other time of day Las Vegas Boulevard was brutal. In another hour the neon lights of the strip would be traded for the bright sun of the day and some of the magic of the strip would fade. There wasn’t much I liked about Vegas but the flash of colorful lights was nothing short of spectacular.

The Jewel Sky was desolate when I pulled in front. A valet came to the door, this one less impressed with the Maybach.

“Good morning, Mr. Barker. Would you like a detail this morning?”

“No, thank you, Edward.”

I handed him his tip and took Atlee’s hand.

Smartly, she didn’t ask until we were in the elevator on our way to the forty-fifth floor. “Mr. Barker?” she whispered.

I shrugged.

The elevator opened.

And unlike Martin’s villa my suite didn’t have a private lobby though the window-walled hallway only had three doors. I stopped in front of mine, pressed my key card to the lock, and pushed open the overly heavy door.

When Atlee didn’t move I glanced over at her.

“This feels like déjà vu,” she mumbled. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“You have no idea.”

“I seem to remember you saying something similar our first night.”

Thankfully she stepped into the room, ending the banter before it went any further and Jack got an eyeful.

Atlee stumbled to a halt and my hands went to her hips to steady her. When she looked back at me her eyes were full of hurt.

I looked beyond her. Jack was sitting on the couch, bags of In-N-Out littered the coffee table, and he wasn’t alone.

Fuck.