SIX 

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Denver tossed back a second vodka and cranberry. It had followed Aaron's watered-down whiskey-sour. It was about forty-five minutes after her run-in with Tai. For the first thirty of those minutes she'd vacillated between anger and confusion.

She had thought it best not to go to the alcove while Tai was there. Denver wasn't sure if she'd be able to check her anger and expose them both.

How much time had she wasted on worrying, no, dreading about what had happened to her so-called friend?  Would she be entangled with Aaron if finding Tai hadn't been a factor?

Maybe. Maybe not. But now what?  Tai was safe, relatively, but she was still fucked. Aaron had that footage of her at the pawn shop. 

It made her head pound. She rapped her empty glass against the bar to get the cute bartender's attention. “Another.” 

She downed half the drink as soon as he put it down.

Now what?  She scanned the club. The moaning had resumed after the auction. From where she perched on a bar stool, Denver could see three sets of pale asses pounding away to orgasm.

This was a den of inequity. And the longer she remained there taking it all in, the more Denver realized how she was starting to like it here. These people knew how to Play, with a capital P.

Maybe Aaron's offer to become part of his family was worth considering. She wouldn't have to hide her darker desires anymore. In fact, she could indulge them. Hell, in truth, she never minded the illegal jobs the dirty cops on her squad had pulled her into.

She'd enjoyed the power, the control, the ability to do what she wanted. 

Most of time, she liked it. Staying clean all these months at the DA's had been a challenge. But playing it good had had its payoff too. When she was dirty, getting busted had been a constant worry.

Aaron's family would have work for someone like her. She could make a life with them.

And Aaron? 

He was a wild-card. Her mind flashed to that first night. How he'd manhandled her body, made her cum harder than she had in forever.

She grabbed her head. Was she really considering becoming a Maddox thrall? Another person in the family's stable?  Maybe it was the booze thinking for her now, but it was making sense.

“Hey.”

Denver turned on the stool with drink in hand. “Hey, Aaron. I was just thinking about you.”

His grin faded as he gave her an once-over. “How are you?” He asked his tone reserved.

She threw up a hand. “Fine. Fine. Sorry I didn't come back with your whiskey. I needed some... I needed to think.”

“Don't worry about the drink. I've had enough for one night. Ready to go?”

“Were you serious, Aaron? Did you mean it or do you make that offer to every woman you screw?”

Aaron nuzzled her neck. “That depends on which offer you're talking about and how many drinks you've had.”

“I can drink a room full of two hundred pound cops under the table. So let's be clear, I'm not drunk. Cranberry and vodka might as well be cherry Kool-Aid. The offer about family, Aaron. Did you mean I could become part of your crew or was it BS?”

At the mention of cops, Aaron had stiffened and looked around them to see if anyone had heard. When it was clear no one had, he shot her an admonished look.

“I'm waiting, Aaron. BS or not?”

“Can we talk about this on the trip home?” he asked.

Denver folded her arms.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Denver to her feet. Aaron sighed while moving a stray piece of hair that had fallen onto her cheek. “Family,” he said, “disappoints. They hurt you the most.” He paused and in a brief second Denver saw sadness in his eyes. Then the expression was gone, and his usual mask dropped back into place.

Aaron nibbled her earlobe then whispered. “You want to hurt, Denver? Should I take you home and put you over my knee?  Hmm. Then fuck you silly?  Is that what you want?”

Denver wanted to slug him. Instead she shoved him hard forcing Aaron back a step. The words spilled out hot and fast. “I see you, Aaron. You need to stop hiding behind this Lothario, billionaire bad boy fake BS. You don't fool me.” 

She jabbed a finger at his face. “I see you.”

A corner of his mouth rose but when Denver threw the look of death, his expression went blank.

“Excuse me, is this yours?” 

They turned, and there stood Tai. Denver heart fluttered as panic squeezed her heart.

Tai shot a wary glance at Aaron before offering a clutch purse to Denver, “The lady with the peacock mask said this was yours. I thought you may need it.”

Denver couldn't pull her eyes away from Tai's. She hesitated for so long, Aaron reached out and took the bag.

Finally she said, “Thank you. I forgot all about it.”  Which was true. She'd been sloppy to leave it behind and too focused on rescuing someone who hadn't needed rescuing.

“Oh, and my benefactor requested I pass this along too. Just in case you're leaving.” Tai said and held out a business card to Aaron.

Aaron took the card without looking at it. “We're leaving. Goodnight.”  He put a hand on the small of Denver's back and urged her forward.

Denver let herself be led past the man, the friend, she'd come looking for. He wanted to be here, so there was nothing she could do. Aaron escorted her to the stairs, but she shrugged him off to go to the ladies room first.

Only one woman propositioned her in the restroom. Denver considered it, but declined. She'd had enough for a night. Who knew what else Aaron had planned?

He'd had stayed rooted to the spot where she'd left him. Aaron said nothing as he handed over her clutch bag and escorted her upstairs.

In very little time, they were back on dimly lit roads heading for the city. They rode in silence. Aaron seemed deep in thought. Denver didn't bother him, she was deep into processing mode too.

Aaron pulled up in front of her apartment building and to Denver's surprise, he shut off the engine. She could feel something weighing on him. It was palpable, heavy almost. Or maybe she was imagining things, projecting her own feelings onto him.

But then she looked at him, and saw his steady, hard stare at nothing; the lines around his mouth as he frowned.

For a second, Denver considered letting this play out on Aaron’s terms. But now, right now, she didn't have the patience for games. And a thought she'd been pushing away all day had forced its way to the surface.

“Those numbers,” she said, “the ones I got at the Internal Affair's office. Were they related to the Hitman Logan case?”

Aaron answered in a flat monotone. “Yes. My family owed a favor.” 

“He's a killer. You've put blood on both of our hands.”

“I know.” Aaron started the car and said nothing else.

It felt good when she slammed the car's door. It was a petty, minute gesture but Denver derived a small ounce of pleasure from it as she marched towards her building. She didn't bother to look behind her when Aaron's car rumbled off.

She found the napkin while hunting for her keys. Denver hadn't opened her bag since dropping in the ruined panties. So the second she saw it, she knew someone had put it in there on purpose.

Denver pulled out the crumbled ball. She tugged at the paper impatient, nearly tearing it into two.

Flattening it as best she could, she scanned the note. Haphazard writing marred the wrinkled napkin as if the person writing it had been in a rush. 

She chewed her lower lip, debating, and read it again. Tai had finally kept his word. By the time she let herself into her apartment, Denver had come to a decision.

She made a phone call then went to bed.