Page 16 of Fool Me Twice

“Just trying to cover all available angles,” he said, knowing the argument was as shaky as his confidence just then.

“How about you just check instead of me explaining it for the third time?” Cane suggested with a thinly veiled smile. “Time is money, and I can’t open this place tonight unless this shit is taken care of. Unless you want to compensate me.”

Hart clenched his jaw at the lewd suggestion in his tone. “This is part of the process that you hired us for. If you’d rather not participate, we’ll happily leave.”

Cane smirked. “That a no, sweetheart?”

Hart’s heart jumped into his throat as his hands balled themselves into fists at his sides. He tried to calm down, knowing his entire face was hot and red. That name… He wasn’t supposed to be hearing it. It wasn’t supposed to be there, and it threw him off balance. He had to keep himself in check. He didn’t want Fix to see it. To question it.

Hart was in control of himself.

Cane had fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket during the exchange, the yellow package crumpled and torn. He stuck one between his teeth and grinned, holding the package out. “Want one?”

His dark gaze swirled with promise, tempting him. Hart swallowed, unable to take his eyes off Cane’s mouth once they landed there…

“He doesn’t like smoking,” Fix said, knocking Hart from his head.

Cane’s eyebrows winged up, and he turned laughing eyes on Hart. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Hart said, wetting his dry mouth and clearing his throat before straightening his shoulders. “I don’t smoke.”

Cane huffed a chuckle and lit the cigarette, taking a deep, dirty pull and holding it for a few suspended seconds before blowing the smoke directly in Hart’s direction. He didn’t take his eyes off Hart once. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Hart breathed in slyly, barely keeping his eyes from fluttering closed at the sick sense of satisfaction he got from the secondhand smoke. It was almost enough to get him to beg for one, but Fix’s presence by his side kept his mouth glued shut and his feet planted firmly.

Cane tapped the ash off the tip and motioned with his head. “Let’s continue this in my office.”

He didn’t wait for them to agree, just turned on his heel and walked off, expecting them to follow.

Hart let out a shaky breath, like his entire body had been released from a binding of some kind, and found Fix staring at him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Of course.” Hart straightened his lapels. “Shall we?”

He didn’t wait for an answer either, following Cane’s booted steps toward one of the private booths at the top to escape any awkward questioning.

This one was different from its counterparts. It had blacked-out glass, letting Cane see out but not letting anyone peer in. The door was reinforced metal with a huge DO NOT ENTER sign that looked like it had blood on it.

Cane had left it ajar.

Taking a deep breath, Hart covered his hand with his handkerchief and pushed it open, determined to get through this as fast as possible. He saw that Cane had made himself comfortable at his desk in a huge black wing chair. It was a strangely pristine piece in an otherwise haphazard room filled with boxes, dented filing cabinets, and safes. A single desk with a chunk missing from one of the legs was the only other piece in the room. It looked like something had splintered it.

Hart didn’t have to guess what when a gun was sitting plainly next to Cane’s booted feet on the desktop.

Cane was still smoking, lazily filling the room with a cloud of fog. His eyes flickered over to them as they crossed the threshold. “Get lost?”

Hart bit back the retort that sprang to his lips, feeling Fix come around from behind him. He busied himself tucking his handkerchief away instead, folding it into a perfect square again.

“Just admiring the place,” Fix said easily, looking out through the two-way glass. “That’s a nice view.”

“It has its perks,” Cane agreed, but his eyes weren’t on Fix. They stayed on Hart, following him around the room as he continued to talk. “Bulletproof glass is expensive.”

“Get shot at a lot?” Fix asked.

Cane shrugged, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “Comes with the territory.”

“How lovely,” Hart said, unable to hide his sarcasm.