Page 45 of Play With Me
“We have a live-in nanny, Jill. She’s been with us since Maya was a baby. But sometimes Valentina comes by to check on her when Jill has time off. Between the restaurant and the club, I spend a lot of time in the city, so it seemed like a good idea to get an apartment there as well. Most nights, I try to make it home. But lately, for obvious reasons, I’ve made excuses about working late so I don’t draw attention to this house.”
Anders looks like he’s lost in thought, and I let him work through whatever he’s thinking about. Eventually, he says, “The letters make sense now. At least some of the stuff in them. The one that called you a cheater and a political breeder. Whoever is sending the letters already knows about Maya.”
Dread twines into a tight ball in the center of my chest. Anders is just voicing my fears, but hearing them spoken out loud brings them to life.
“Does Kate know about Maya?” Anders asks.
“No. And even if she did, I don’t think she’s the one responsible for the letters. Kate’s a bitch, but she’s not unhinged.” I don’t want to admit that the thought has already crossed my mind more than once. Kate was never able to get pregnant. The taunts in the letter about wanting to be the wife but not being able to beat her, Kate would seem like theobvious suspect. But I feel like whoever is behind them wants us to think that.
It’stooobvious.
Not to mention she has too much to lose if she was caught.
“You’re sure she never saw you with Mick when you were pregnant?” Anders presses.
I shake my head. “I didn’t meet Kate until a few years later.”
“Hmm.” He gets that faraway look again before asking, “Where does the club fit into all this? How did you end up with it?”
“Before we turned it into Désirer, it was a small gentlemen’s club run by a lady who took me in when she found out I was pregnant. I worked under her, shadowing her and training to take over so I could support Maya on my own. But then Scott found out, and I had to tell Mick. Mick didn’t want me to work, of course, and said he’d take care of everything, but at that point, I saw the potential in what the club could be. My dreams of dancing might have been stolen away from me, but I envisioned a place where I could help others achieve their dreams and desires. He respected that dream and helped me make it a reality.”
Anders snorts. “So he bought you a whorehouse to keep you happy? Sounds like such a winner.”
Anger courses through me. I created Désirer sopeople could explore themselves freely. What the fuck is so wrong with that?
“What is your deal with my job? You have had no problem performing, and you are obviously a highly sexual man, so what’s the problem, Anders? Why does liking sex make me so undesirable in your eyes? You have no problem fucking around with me. So what gives? Did you find out an ex-girlfriend was fucking guys on the side or something? Thought you were exclusive and found out she was a prostitute?”
From the way his eyes darken and a scowl settles over his handsome face, I can tell I hit the nail right on the head.
Well, shit.
Anders
Carmela’s face morphs from anger to disbelief to shame. “Anders…I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I huff. “It’s not exactly like that, anyway.”
I reach for the bottle, wishing she’d poured us something stronger instead. It’s only fair I tell her my story now that she’s told me hers. It’s something I’ve wanted to bring up for a while now, anyway. So she can understand where my hesitancy comes from.
“I did have a relationship with a woman who sold herself for money. I was working undercover, trying to bust a group that worked for the Tijuana cartel. They were having women mule the drugs—working as prostitutes, so they made double the money. So, I went in as a client and just happened to walk into the room where Mariana was working.” I take a beat, thememory of her flashing behind my eyes. The pain has lessened over time, but I feel like I’m tearing the wound back open with a sharp knife.
“I could tell she didn’t want to be there. She was so innocent, yet so fiery. Her brother got involved with the cartel after their parents died, and he brought her into it, but he had to drag her kicking and screaming.” My fists clench around the bottle. I move to a sitting position, resting my elbows on my knees after I set it and my glass down so I don’t break them. “I was good at my job. I’d never been compromised. I could compartmentalize and leave the job at the threshold when I got home. But with Mariana…I just…I just couldn’t. We struck a deal. She became my informant. Over time, I watched her innocence fade away. Her fire turn to embers. I tried so hard not to care, but eventually, I realized I had already fallen in love with her.”
Carmela lets out a soft gasp on her side of the sofa. “What happened?” she hesitantly asks. Almost as if she already knows this story doesn’t end well.
“We decided to move in during a massive fentanyl distribution. It was sooner than planned, but I knew I had to get her out of there. Her brother had started getting suspicious when he realized I kept requesting to see her. He…” my voice cracks, stomach roiling with nausea as I relive one of the lowest moments of my life. “He decided to sit in during our hour together.”
“Oh…Anders.” I feel Carmela shift before her warm hand rests on my back. “You don’t have to-”
“No. I need to get this out. You need to know why I feel the way I do,” I cut her off. It takes a few moments for me to get my emotions under control. “They trafficked more than fentanyl. And he expected me to take something, so I chose to snort a few lines of cocaine. We’d been trained for shit like that. Sometimes it would be expected, and it was the least problematic of the drugs. But that wasn’t enough for him. He was…fucking sick. Said her pussy must have been gold since I kept coming back for more, so he wanted to see what was so special about it.” Tears line my eyes, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep them from falling.
Carmela’s arms wrap around me from behind just as I begin shaking from my foot bouncing uncontrollably. “We hadn’t even been intimate. I’d begged her to leave with me time and time again, but she was too scared to go. I hated myself for resenting her decision, but I told her I couldn’t be with her while she was fucking other men. But that night…that night, her brother wanted to watch us fuck. When I refused, he started accusing me of being a cop. I couldn’t do anything without blowing my cover, so I fucked her.” I blow out a long, shuddered breath. “The next day, I took a team in to dismantle the whole operation, but my mind was focused solely on getting her out. I was distracted, and when I found her, she was scared and couldn’t move. While I was trying to convince her to leave with me, her brother started shooting at us. A member of my team covered me and was shot and killed. It was absolute chaos, and when it was all over, Mariana had been shot, too. They had to pull me away from her body. I scared the shit out of my team because no one had seen me lose my shit like that before, let alone cry.”
It’s the first time I’ve told anyone the full story outside the investigation board. Hearing myself narrate it, and allowing myself to feel everything while I do, sounds so different than every other time I emotionlessly recounted it six years ago.
“Is that why you stopped working undercover?” Carmela’s wrapped around me, trying to be comforting. Her chin rests on my shoulder, and it’s such an intimate gesture that I can’t help but reach up to hold the arm circling my neck as I lean into her.
“There was a criminal investigation and an administrative one. I was found not guilty during both. I had to undergo therapy before I was allowed to go back to work. But, ultimately, I decided against returning. I took a job in my local department, pushing papers. Whatever allowed me the ability to be so good at my job vanished after Mariana died. Honestly, I have no idea why Mick even hired me. I might have been great at the job, but that was years ago. There’s plenty of others who were more suited for this case.”