51. CARSON

“I’m glad you saved me the trouble of having to find you,” I say, trying to keep my temper in check.

Another man might find it emasculating, but not me. I don’t care that Cassie is way more hardcore than I am. In fact, I kind of wish she was right here by my side.

Red Dress stands there with her hands folded in front of her. She’s calm and totally dry, despite the stifling heat and humidity of the afternoon. I’m still trying to slow my breathing so I can sound calmer. I hate being caught off guard.

“And you’re right. We do have things to talk about. First and foremost, Ca – the quarry’s money.”

She smiles.

“The quarry forfeited the prize when you broke the rules.”

Broke the rules? What kind of bullshit is this?

I take a deep breath before my agitation has a chance to show on my face. Keep it under control, Carson. This isn’t the time or place.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” I say evenly. “I was under the impression that I won the competition fair and square on the eleventh day.”

Her smile is maddening, like a game show hostess who’s expressing just how darn sorry she is that you didn’t win the new washing machine.

“Some information came to light early on that disqualified you as a contestant,” she says.

“And what might that information be?”

“You and the quarry had a pre-existing relationship. You became reacquainted on the first day and continued to meet daily, yet you never ended the competition.”

Oh, shit.

Steady, Carson. Keep it off your face.

“We knew each other years ago,” I say. “It was sheer coincidence that we were both involved in this.”

“My associates find that hard to believe. At first they were willing to accept that you were merely conspiring together to win the competition. But that made no sense – neither of you stood to gain from it.

“That was when I suggested you were, in fact, investigating them.”

This time I can’t keep my anger in check.

“That’s a goddamn lie,” I growl. “What possible reason could we have had to do that?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t know the answer to that just yet. But we’ll discover it soon enough.”

I sigh and run a hand down my sweaty face. This is going nowhere. I know Cassie wants to give these people what they have coming to them, but the longer this goes on, the fewer options I see.

“Look,” I say. “In the interests of putting this behind us, I’m willing to offer your associates compensation for any perceived damages.”

That game show hostess smile again.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s too late for that option.”

My stomach sinks. I don’t like the sound of that.

“What are you talking about?”

“Unfortunately, the competition was tainted when you prematurely stole the prize. The quarry is no longer… intact. Therefore, my associates were forced to return the other contestants’ entry fees.

Her expression turns serious, and suddenly I’m terrified. If that smarmy smile is gone, I don’t want to hear what she has to say next.

“Only one contestant was willing to forego reimbursement,” she says. “In return, he was… allowed to finish the competition, even though the prize was tainted.”

Jesus Christ. Cassie.

“The contestant is known for his straightforward negotiation style. My associates hope the experience will make the quarry more… amenable to their questions regarding any possible investigation of their activities.”

My heart is pounding in my chest. I can hear my blood coursing through my inner ear.

“This ends now,” I say, leveling a finger between her eyes. “No more fucking around, no more euphemisms, no more banter. You call it off and take me to her right now, or I’ll make it my mission to see you spend the rest of your life in the bottom of a pit somewhere deep inside the world’s asshole. Do I make myself clear?”

Her smile is back.

“I appreciate your concern,” she says. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

I feel a large presence behind me, and I know who it is even before I turn. It’s the man who dropped off the briefcase outside the Boom Boom Room.

“My associate is here to escort you back to your penthouse, Mr. Drake.”

“So,” I say. “We’re using names now?”

“What harm can come from it at this stage?”

You’ll soon see what harm can come from it, sister.

“I’m not going home,” I say. “And if you’re smart, you’ll get on your phone right now and call everything off, then take me to her. If you don’t, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

She pouts those ruby lips into a pitying look.

“Mr. Drake, please don’t waste time on hollow threats.”

“You’re right,” I say, hanging my head. “I should stop wasting time.”

With that, I flex my right hip from the foot upwards and loop my right fist in a rising arc that connects squarely with her jaw.