Unchecked (New York Unraveled #2)

Chapter Five.

RAYNE.

I hated lying to him when he was trusting me. He was too innocent to be deceived like this. I knew that being involved with him in any way would come and bite me real hard in the ass one day. I mean, for heaven's sake, he was a cop and I did all the illegal shit in the world. How is that compatible in any sense?
Whenever I think I'm going to lead a straight life after this, something comes up that forces me to get into the dark world again. But whenever he asks me in that impossibly sweet voice of his, I can't say no. He literally handed me to a thug on his doorstep and I knew it but I couldn't say no. I was already addled up because of Karen's new shenanigans of having her rich boyfriend buy me a posh flat in a safer place and I has to spend an hour shouting on her and explaining exactly why that made me feel half an inch tall. I got so addled with all these thoughts running in my head that I agreed to Evan dropping me off to meet Stuart. He made me weak, he made my knees buckle by just speaking, he took my breath away by just brushing past me.
That morning, I resolved, would be the last I ever saw of him and it caused a kind of hollowness inside me but I ignored it, praying to God I was strong enough to say no this time. Of course I wasn't.
But I hadn't been lying when I said that I would find a job. I had to prove to Karen that I didn't need her babysitting me. So at night, I was bartending drinks at an okayish club. It didn't have a high end footfall but nor did it have complete debauch drunkards so that suited fine with me. It was more like a place for the cheap students who didn't want to waste their money on expensive clubs.
As I tried to flirt my way through some good tips with a man who was already more than half drunk and staring at my breasts, another chair in my peripheral vision became occupied. I turned to take that person's order and squeaked in surprise. "Evan?" 
"Hello, gorgeous. A gin martini, please?" There wasn't a lot of loud music so he didn't have to shout a lot to be heard.
"Right away," I winked at him and mixed his drink for him. I was pretty fast at it considering gin martini was a popular order and I had been mixing it up since as long as I could remember.
I slid his glass across the table at him. "There you go. To what does this modest place owe you its appearance?"
"I'm waiting for somebody," he said vaguely.
I leaned forward on the counter, bracing my elbows, and supported my face on my hands. "And here I pegged you for a person who wouldn't meet people in a place less than Eleven Madison Park," I teased him.
"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, a small smile playing on his face.
"Enlighten me," I said, tracing my finger on his jaw.
He caught my hand and brought it to his lips. "What would you like to know?"
A voice interrupted us, calling Evan from behind him. He left my hand and turned to see who it was.
The woman who had tapped him on the shoulder looked to be about my age, with long blonde hair and impeccably dressed in an expensive formal suit. I would say she was pretty but I don't want to because she was hugging Evan for much longer than she was supposed to and even after settling down, she wouldn't stop flirting with him.
"Kelly, this is Rayne," he gestured to me, "Rayne, this is Kelly. A fellow comrade."
She extended her hand and I shook it politely which was the only form of contact we had. She didn't even acknowledge my presence when I handed her drink to her. Her whole attention was focused on Evan. I mean, I couldn't blame her for drooling over him. God knows I wasn't doing anything less. He probably had that all the damn time. But I couldn't stop having insecure thoughts.
I knew I had a good face. I knew I had a lascivious body. But what I lacked in was dignity. With her expensive accessories and clothes, Kelly looked like a woman who controlled her life. I, on the other hand, was wearing a skimpy dress with a red top that had a neckline low enough to let most of my cleavage be open for public eyes and a thin strap of zipper in the name of a back. It had a black skater skirt with multicolored dots that ended above mid-thigh. Needless to say, I felt cheap and unworthy, and that was a feeling I'd never been able to get rid of for the majority of my life, including before I started working in bars.
I left him to his prim and proper girl and flirted with other customers, viewing only from the corner of my eyes how she was finding reasons to touch him and entertained myself with images of mixing poison in her next drink.
When I passed him to attend to another guy on his left, he intentionally brushed his fingertips over my wrist. When I looked up at him, he winked.
"Focus on one at a time," I whispered in his ear. I said it in a teasing way though, not letting my jealousy show.
He tucked one finger in the strap of my dress and pulled me closer. "I was going to say that to you."
"This is my job," I said.
"This is my job," he replied.
"Evan?" interrupted Kelly.
I made a face at her. "Go entertain her."
"I'll just be another five minutes," he said apologetically and leaned up to press a fleeting kiss to my neck.
I stepped aside to talk to one of my old customers. I didn't remember him but apparently he did. And remembered me too well for my taste.
"C'mon, baby, you forgot me in a few weeks?" he slurred. He was already drunk. 
I made a vague noise of consent, hoping to avoid him altogether. Men like this tend to get violent after a while. 
"We could make tonight more phenomenal than the last," he said, grabbing my wrist.
I shook him off. "Touch me once more and I'll call the bouncers."
He held my wrist again, twisting it this time. "Don't act like-" The muzzle of a gun pressed against his temple stopped him.
"Is there a problem here?" said Evan, staring him down impassively.
He immediately released me and stumbled out of the club, mumbling incoherently. Evan took my hand and turned it this way and that, checking for any marks his tight grip may have left.
"I'm fine," I said softly. "This was nothing. Worse people come in here."
"When does your shift end?" he asked  abruptly.
"It's almost over," I replied.
"Let me take you out for dinner," he said.
Say no, Rayne, say no. You have a bundle of drugs in your purse. Where will you ditch them? Say no before he busts your ass.
"Okay," I said. My internal self whacked me on the head five times with a metal rod. I shushed it and smiled indulgently at Evan.
I thought about leaving the drugs stashed up somewhere under the counter but I needed to deliver the money to the seniors. 
When I was done, I hoped that he wouldn't get to know about it and with my heart in my throat, I followed him out. We rounded a corner on the street and went into a small and cozy restaurant with red fairy lights as the only source of illumination inside. We ordered food and sat back, me trying to be as confident as possible when I was shaking inside.
"Where did Kelly suddenly vanish off to?" I asked with polite interest.
"Why? Are you missing her?" he asked sarcastically.
"Oh, yes. She did keep you quite occupied. Takes one problem off my shoulders," I said.
"I'm not here to make things easy for you," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.
I took a sip of water, eyeing him from the rim of the glass. "There's still a lot I don't know about you. You might wanna start telling me now."
"I don't know about you either," he said.
"I asked first," I grinned.
He nodded in reluctance. "Okay. What do you want to know?"
"Why did you enroll in the NYPD?" I asked after a moment's thought.
His eyebrows scrunched up. "No one's ever asked me that before."
"There's always a first time."
He paused and I saw the hesitation in it. "I wanted to make a difference."
I cocked my head to one side. "There's a bigger story."
"Why would you say that?" 
It surprised me that he was a cop and he didn't know how loud his own emotions were visible in his expressions and postures.
"Everybody has a story." I shrugged. "But you don't need to tell me if you're not comfortable with it."
"All this smartness going to waste..." he said. "It's people like you we need in the enquiry department."
"Trust me, if they take me, I won't say no. Hell, imma come running like there are fifty dogs on my trail," I said.
He chuckled. "What do your parents do?"
"They practice lying still in their coffins," I said in all seriousness.
He understood it a second later. "Oh. I'm sorry."
I waved my hand. "Whatever. What about yours?"
"Property dealing firms," he said shortly. "Any siblings?"
"One. Younger brother. Dead. You?"
"One. Elder sister. Dead." 
I leaned forward slowly and put a hand over his. "I'm sorry. How did that happen?"
He turned his wrist so that he was holding my hand in his. "She was killed."
"That's why," I murmured with a sad smile.
"Yeah. That's why," he said.
I squeezed his hand once and changed the topic. There was no point on dwelling in the miseries of the past. If they had made him a better person, then it was not to be cried about.
"Favorite ice cream?" I asked enthusiastically.
He laughed. "You're amazing."
"I know," I said like it was a well known fact. "But that's not the answer."
"Okay. Umm. I like vanilla," he said.
I smirked suggestively. "Vanilla, eh? Never improvised with handcuffs, officer?" My voice was lowered to a soft purr.
His eyes smoldered as he cupped my cheek, stroking my lower lip with his thumb. "Let's work on changing my choices tonight," he said.
A persistent voice in my mind nagged, 'Say no, Rayne, say no. Listen to your brain for a change, dumbshit. Don't go to bed with him. Again.' Then there was a more dominant voice whining, 'But he's so cute. And damn it, does that brain have eyes? Did you see him naked? Do you realize what all could be done with handcuffs?'
I flicked my tongue on the tip of his thumb. "That won't be a problem."
I got to know a lot more about him through the course of the night. For example, he was as soft-hearted for those he cared about as he was cruel to those who hurt him and his. He liked his steak medium rare and preferred to eat in bed. He liked experimenting on styles of his beards. He had always wanted a pet but never got one because he didn't have time to ever take care of it. He hated that people judged him by his money which was another reason he went into the police department. He was the ultimate good guy and the only times he had rebelled was against his parents by not going into their line of work.
I hadn't known what being infatuated felt like. The closest I'd gotten to a crush before Evan were short lived puppy love feelings for guys who turned out to be jerks. They looked cute only till they opened their mouths. But Evan... My feelings for him increased the more I got to know about him. He was easy to talk to and fun to joke around with. He didn't take offense at my sarcasm which was more than I could say about most people out there.
His car was parked on the other side of the block so we had to take a little walk in the cold night air once we were done with dinner. I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chilly wind from my bare skin.
"Feeling cold?" he asked.
"No, I'm fine," I said bravely.
Nevertheless, he took out his blazer and put it around my shoulders. I tried to tell him that it was okay but he was resolute.
"Better?"
I nodded shyly. "Aren't you cold now?"
He put an arm around me and pulled me to his side. "Not anymore."
"Who taught you to be such a gentleman?" I asked.
"Am I?" 
I changed the question. "Why are you so unsure of yourself?" 
"Am I?" he repeated.
"You are. Did nobody ever tell you that?"
"No."
I skipped ahead of him and turned back so that I was walking backwards. "Well, you are. You're really amazing. And caring. And overall a nicer person than any I've ever met."
He held my waist to guide the way I was going and catch me if I fall. "Am I?" he smiled broadly and jerked me to a stop when we reached his car.
He drove at a steady speed because traffic in NY never slowed down. It was always the same even at midnight. It took us about half an hour to reach his place.
He lived in a pretty swanky apartment that was big enough to fit in half the city. It was decorated in rich shades with grand chandeliers hanging from above. It looked like all the best features of every Tony Stark's house and put into one house. Basically, it was a dream of any interior designer. I felt small just standing in there. High vaulted ceilings were not good for egos.
He shut the door and punched in some code on a device beside the knob before coming to the couch where I was sitting.
"What's that for? Ensuring your conquests of the night can't run away?" I asked.
"Yep. You're locked in, sweetie. You try to go out and alarms will start ringing in every room, the floor will vibrate and bars from up there-" He pointed right above him at the ceiling where I could see a little chasm between the foyer and the main hall. "-will descend to trap you in place."
"Goddamn. You're one paranoid shit," I muttered.
"I'm one dangerous shit," he amended me. "Don't let my innocent looks deceive you."
"No, Loki, not at all. I know how...lethal you can be," I said suggestively.
He smiled smugly and took my hand, leading me to the kitchen. He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to me after which we settled down on the couch with his arm around me again.
"Did you get that job you were looking for?" he asked.
"No," I said, suddenly uncomfortable. Why did he have to bring it up? "I'm still working on it."
"In what field are you looking? Maybe I could help."
I tried not to squirm. It was the most clear cut sign of identifying lies. "Anything I can get. I tried modelling for this small brand. But I still don't know whether I'm selected."
"It's the brand's loss if they don't take you," he said, cupping my cheek.
"I'm short, Evan. It stands as a big disadvantage," I said, repeating to myself that it was important to breathe.
"They don't know how many ways you can improvise with short girls," he whispered, his lips somewhere lost in my hair.
"Seems like you've had a lot of experience," I teased.
"I've put a lot of thought to it," he said.
I inched up to nuzzle his neck, peppering soft kisses from the hollow of his throat to his jaw. He tightened his hold on me, his breath causing my hair to wave around.
We kept our wine glasses on the side table and he took my face in his hands. "You're so beautiful," he whispered and kissed me softly.
I wrapped my arms around him and sighed against his lips at the longing way he kissed me. He had to bend his entire body to reach my level and I ran my hands on his biceps. I traced my tongue along his lower lip until he opened his mouth and let me plunge in. Our tongues and breath clashed in a furious dance as I explored him. His hands were inching up my dress, skimming over my inner thighs. He hoisted one of my legs on his lap to give him better access.
I groaned as he pulled back slightly. "Damn it, you're good."
"Just good?" he smirked, obviously pleased at my compliment.
"Till now, yes. Make yourself better," I said huskily.
He claimed my lips again, laying me down on the couch and this time again, he was on top of me. My small frame hid completely beneath him and he took unfair advantage of having the upper hand. He pushed my dress up till my waist and teased me incessantly by brushing his fingers against my crotch. He didn't push the fabric of my panties away but kept lightly rubbing his fingertips across it, causing the lace to soak up as an evidence of how much he affected me.
The sound of his cell ringing caused him to pause. He took it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. It was Kelly. Iraised an eyebrow at him.
"I'm sorry, I'll have to take this," he said, already standing up and adjusting his shirt.
"Go," I said, rolling my eyes.
I smoothed my dress down till its natural length, wondering what in hell that woman wanted from him after midnight. More than that, why it was so important for him to talk to her. Irresistible or not, I'd had my fair share of cheats and I wasn't getting into another one again.
There was no option of quitting on him behind his back, not after the security measures he had shown to me. And I didn't want to create a scene. I mean, we had gone for one date. He was allowed to be with other women. The fact that it didn't sit right with me was my problem.
I made patterns on the leather of the couch with the tip of my fingernails. Somewhere between the dizzying circular shapes I was tracing, I fell asleep.