Fake Game (The System #3)

Chapter Six

SIX

JACKSON

“ T hank you.”

Savannah smiles up at me through hooded eyes. Droplets of tears bead her lashes after being mercilessly face fucked. I look down at her, but I don’t feel the satisfaction or relief that typically comes after our sessions. It has been happening more and more lately.

Which is a pain.

I give her a noncommittal hum as I work on undoing the ropes bound around her plush upper body, signaling the end to our session. Normally, I look forward to meeting up with Savannah. She is the brand director for some fashion company and one of the main investors for Cardinal Club, so it’s all high discretion, low commitment with her. But something is off now.

I coil the black rope and place it back in my bag while she stretches out on the bed like a cat.

I don’t want to look for a new partner; it’s hard enough to find the right person these days. Yes, the Cardinal Club is one of the most exclusive clubs in North America, catering to the sexual needs of the elite, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

With all the extra attention The System has been getting lately, I’ve had to keep a tighter hold on my private life so I don’t rock the boat or create any leaks. The Cardinal Club prides itself on discretion, but the right person knows where to look to find the club. There is little you can control once the paparazzi sniff a lead, and I’ve never liked the idea of being unable to write my own narrative.

I’m not like Parker; I don’t relish the media attention. But I also am not like Aleksander; I wouldn’t purposely blow the media off, either. Trying to find the middle ground is hard work, and all I want is a little privacy and an outlet for my stress.

I pour Savannah a glass of water and hold it out.

“Thanks,” she purrs. I give her a nod and her brow quirks up as she takes an audible sip. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I grunt.

“You’re quiet. Well, quieter than usual.”

“Am I?”

She sits up and cocks her head as she leans forward, bracing her elbows on her thighs. My eyes dip to her massive tits. Even if things are starting to go stale between us, there is no denying that Savannah is sex on a stick.

Ugh. Finding a new rope bunny is going to be more work than I want.

Suddenly another face flashes in my mind. A short woman with fuckable tits and an innocent look that begs to be ruined.

I try to scrub the pink vision away.

“Wow, you’re really out of it. I’m not sure if I should take offense.”

My gaze snaps back to Savannah’s assessing eyes. I open my mouth to bite back but stop. None of this is her fault.

“Sorry,” I finally sigh, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to her.

“It’s fine,” she shrugs. “You know I don’t expect anything outside the session.”

“Yes, but you at least deserve my attention while I’m here.”

Her eyes soften and she places a reassuring pat on my knee. “Stop. You always treat me well.”

When I don’t say anything more, she slips off the bed and goes to rummage through her handbag. She pulls out a small purple stick and presses it to her lips, taking an inhale that makes the bottom of it light up blue. When she exhales, a small cloud floats from her lips that smells like grapes. “So, who is she?”

“Who?”

“The girl who’s apparently rented an apartment in your brain.”

“There’s no girl.”

“Sure,” she drawls before taking another hit. “Is it the one you told me about?”

I stiffen.

“You’re the only person I’m involved with.”

Surprise ripples across her features. “Since when?”

“I don’t know. A while?”

She lets out a laugh. “And you’re sure there’s no girl you’re pining over? Really.”

“Savannah,” I growl.

Her spine straightens at the warning and her eyes widen a fraction. “I’ll drop it.”

I grit my teeth together and get up to grab my clothes from the chair in the corner and put them on. The more I think about it, the more it bothers me. I hadn’t even realized that Savannah is the only person I’ve been seeing—seeing being a very loose term—and even this is losing its shine.

I turn back to her, ready to break things off, but she stops me with a raised hand.

“I know.” She walks up to me and brushes some lint off the shoulder of my sweatshirt. “I hope you sort things out, Jackson.” She gives me a smile before twirling around and heading into the bathroom. “I’m going to have a shower. Make sure you shut the door behind you.”

My eyes track her, giving her naked body one last appreciative look as she disappears.

I grab my phone and wallet from the nightstand before throwing on a black face mask and baseball cap. Then I slip on my limited-edition sneakers before picking up my duffle and heading out of the VIP room.

My jaw is clenched tight.

I’m not even in the mood to think about what I am going to do now. Even the idea of trying to find someone to replace Savannah has me annoyed.

Not because of her, but because every time I try to conjure an image in my head of someone new, all I see are flashes of pink.

Which is fucking stupid.

The scrawny guy manning the valet stand gives me a terrified look as he takes my ticket, and I tell myself to stop giving him the death glare. I even fish out a hundred from my wallet to tip him when he returns with my Jeep.

“Thank you,” he squeaks out.

I give him a parting grunt as I get into the driver’s seat and toss my duffle onto the passenger seat. My eyes flick down to the clock, and I frown seeing that it’s only a little after midnight.

My fingers tap on the wheel rhythmically. Savannah is right about one thing, something is off.

I only make it a few streets before the music blasting through my speakers is cut off by an incoming call.

I swear, if one of the guys is—

“Incoming call from unknown number,” the robotic voice announces.

Without giving it much thought, I accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, sorry to bother you,” Deer’s voice comes through in that high pitch she typically uses when streaming. “No one else was answering and I had your number from Syd and well, yeah. It’s Deer, by the way.” Her babbling trails off.

Shock and confusion bubble before annoyance flares in at the offhanded jab that I’m far down her list of preferred people.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I wasn’t busy.”

“Oh. Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

I wait for her to elaborate, but silence drags on.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no. Um, I just finished a stream and–” she pauses, cutting herself off “–you know what, I’m sorry. Ignore this call. It’s fine. I’m overreacting. Sorry, Shield. Have a good night. Bye!”

“Wait,” I call out, but I’m too late. She hangs up and the music returns to my speaker. “Fuck,” I curse under my breath as I flick on my blinker and switch lanes before making a U-turn. My foot presses harder on the accelerator as I hit the redial button.

It rings once before she sends me to voicemail.

This woman is going to kill my sanity.

“You have a new text message; would you like me to read it?” my car asks.

“Yes.”

“Ok.” There’s a short pause. “ I’m totally fine. Seriously. Smiley face emoji. Sorry. Praying hands emoji .” Another pause. “Would you like to reply?”

“No,” I grind out as I work my jaw back and forth.

There would be no getting through to her. She is too damn stubborn for her own good. Always hiding behind that perfectly pink exterior.

It takes me twenty minutes, but I finally swing into a guest parking spot beside her apartment complex. The engine barely shuts off before I’m out of the car and stalking to the entrance. There isn’t even a doorman at this time of night to stop anyone from coming in.

Fucking bullshit.

I don’t even bother waiting for the elevator. I take the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. When I get to her apartment, I rap on the door.

“Deer, open up.”

There’s no response.

“Deer, I will break this door down if you do not open it. You know I can.”

I hear a muffled, “Shit,” followed by some shuffling before the door snicks open a few inches.

The buzzing in my ears intensifies as I stare down at the infuriating woman before me. Deer’s puffy lips are pursed tightly as she looks up at me briefly before averting her eyes to the right.

“You came?”

“You called.”

I give the door a nudge, pushing my way into her apartment.

Deer’s pink obsession is a mirror to Parker’s love for blue; they both make it their entire personality. Part of me used to think her whole pink thing was just a gimmick, but one look at her apartment—which looks like a unicorn and a fairy had a love child—is all you need as proof that even her blood would run rosy.

“Sure, come in. Make yourself at home.”

I turn around to see her fold her arms protectively over her chest, and I force myself to look at her unnaturally blue eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“All right.” I shrug before dropping down on her bubbly couch. Thing is fucking uncomfortable.

“What are you doing?” Her fingers tighten on her biceps, biting into the fabric of her pastel cardigan.

“Making myself at home.” I pull out my phone and swipe it open, aimlessly scrolling.

She lets out an unamused scoff. “Seriously?”

I say nothing and it furthers her annoyance as she stalks over to me.

“No, seriously, what are you going to do? Camp here all night? This isn’t funny.” Her voice deepens and the ends of her words cut off, her Irish lilt peeking through.

“You didn’t call me for no reason, and I’m not leaving until I know why.” I look up at her. “Plus, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s not a compliment.”

She lets out a frustrated groan and stamps her foot before spinning around and stalking into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Not even a minute later, the door flings back open and she stomps over to me and points a single sharp nail at me.

“Fine, you want to know so badly, Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business? The police called me because someone tried to swat me again while I was streaming.”

My blood runs cold as the Antarctic Ocean, and any amusement flees my body.

“What?”

“It’s fine. They knew it was a false alarm. It just made me feel a little off, so I called you. But I’m fine.”

I fucking hate that word.

Fine .

Such bullshit. She isn’t fine. None of this is fine .

I stand up, placing myself inches away from her. Deer’s eyes flare as she takes a small step back.

“It’s not fine. Do they know who called it in?”

She averts her gaze to my chest.

“Deer.”

“No,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “They still haven’t tracked them down. Something about cell tower pinging and stuff.”

I sidestep her, making my way into her bedroom. My eyes dart around before landing on the pink suitcase that is still haphazardly full of the random clothes and shoes Lee threw into it two weeks ago. As if I needed another sign Deer isn’t doing fine .

I throw the lid closed and zip it up before rolling it out of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t stay here.”

I move into her streaming room, picking up her laptop and Switch, tossing them into a backpack she has perched next to her desk before grabbing the rest of her gaming accessories.

“Stop!” Her hands close around mine, attempting to pull her headphones from my grasp. It sends a spark across my skin.

What the hell?

I shake it off, tossing her backpack over one shoulder, and level her with a glare. “You have two choices. Either you walk out of here with me, or I carry you.”

She’s not staying in this apartment for another night. Over my dead body am I letting that happen.

Deer lets out a huff of disbelief, the corners of her mouth ticking up in a fake grin. “You can’t be serious.”

“You have sixty seconds. If you need anything else, grab it now.”

“Stop,” she grits through that strained smile still on her face.

“Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight—”

“Stop.” All humor leaves her voice.

“Fifty-five. Fifty-four.”

Her brows furrow and her gaze narrows, causing her nose to scrunch up. She lets out an exaggerated sigh but doesn’t make a move. So, I continue to count down, keeping my eyes locked on her the entire time. It’s not hard, Deer is stunning. She has this soft beauty about her, one that is undeniable even with exhaustion written all over her face.

But I don’t let it sway me.

The number “one” passes my lips, and her shoulders tense. When I take a step forward, I see a glimmer of nerves dance across her features, the first sign all night that whatever is going on is affecting her more than she lets on.

“Don’t you dare, Shield.”

It’s a warning.

One that I do not heed.

It only takes three long strides to reach her, and I stoop down to curve my arm around her waist and lift her up. She screeches, trying to reel back from me with a slew of incomprehensible words, but it makes no difference as I haul her over my shoulder. My hand rests on the back of her bare thigh, and the contact has my cock twitching.

“Oh my Gods, stop. Stop! I’m sorry, okay? Put me down. Put me down!” She squirms in my arms, her legs kicking up as her feet threaten to clock me in the head. “I’ll come willingly, just put me down. Please.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, you insufferable giant. Fucking hell.” Her accent cuts through again.

I drop her back to the ground and she glares up at me, her face flushed a bright pink to match her hair. It brings an inexplicable smile to my face.

Deer sobers up and runs past me with a litany of curses, disappearing into her bathroom and returning with a giant blanket and a large pink case of what looks like makeup cradled in her arms. Annoyance bleeds out her eyes.

I hold her front door open, and she clips me with her elbow as she pushes past me. I stifle a snort as I follow behind her, rolling her suitcase across the linoleum.

Her foot taps impatiently as we wait for the elevator, the silver aglet on her pristine white sneakers glinting from the overhead lights. She says nothing, just stews in her thoughts. I can feel the tension radiating off her as we get inside, filling up the small metal box as we descend to the lobby.

She’s the one who is being ridiculous. It’s bad enough she insisted on staying here the first time around, but I can’t believe she was just planning to stick it out after another attempted swatting. What is wrong with her?

If I hadn’t picked up, if I hadn’t forced my way over here, would she have told anyone what happened tonight?

It doesn’t make sense. Why does she try to do everything herself?

Deer stalks ahead of me, burning holes in the ground with every step she takes.

“You don’t even know where I parked,” I call out to her as she pushes through the revolving doors.

“Maybe I’m walking,” she tosses back.

I press my lips into a thin line and pick up my pace slightly. Not enough to make it seem like I’m rushing after her—because I’m not—but enough to make sure I don’t lose her to the darkness.

She pauses for a moment, head swiveling until she locates my Jeep parked off to the side. I fish my key out of my pocket to unlock the car, and she doesn’t even spare me a second glance before hauling herself onto the passenger seat. I toss her suitcase and backpack into the trunk before joining her.

“What’s this?” She holds up my black duffle bag, the one I’d left on the passenger seat.

“Nothing.” I pull it from her grip and lob it into the trunk. It lands with a thwack.

I quickly start the engine and turn up the volume on my speakers as I pull away from her apartment.

“You can just drop me off at Lee’s.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t trust you to stay there.”

“I’m not a child.”

I give her a glance out of the corner of my eye. “I’d beg to differ. You’re being more difficult than my sister, and she’s thirteen.”

Her lips pop open, forming a pretty O shape.

I ready myself for whatever argument she is going to throw back, but instead she just gives me a curt, “Whatever,” before turning away from me. She hikes her feet onto the seat and pulls her knees up to her chest as she stares out the window.

Some unhinged part of my brain is tempted to reach out and rub her shoulder—to comfort her—but I just curl my fingers around my steering wheel tighter. It’s bad enough that I keep finding myself interfering with her life, I don’t need to make this even more complicated.

By the time we pull into the private garage beneath the apartment complex, it’s nearing 3 a.m. Weariness is written in Deer’s bones as I watch her slip out of the car at the pace of a snail. It’s almost as if by accepting defeat against me, her body has finally begun to shut down.

Silence surrounds us on the elevator ride up to the penthouse, and it’s only when the doors open and she steps foot on the shiny black tiles in our apartment that she stops to acknowledge me.

“Where do you want me?”

“My room.”

Life sparks in her tired eyes. “What?”

I shrug past her, rolling her suitcase behind me as I turn into the hallway where my rooms are located. I push open the last door on the left and flick on the lights before wheeling the suitcase to a stop.

Deer pauses at the threshold, gaze darting everywhere.

Part of me is a smidge self-conscious, wondering exactly what she is thinking. In comparison to her bedroom, mine is dull. I don’t come in here for anything other than sleep, spending most of my time in my streaming room instead. So, other than my bed and dresser, there’s just a wall of limited-edition sneakers and a display case in the corner full of vintage horror movies.

I toss my black duffle into my closet before shutting the door, hoping that she won’t go snooping.

“There’s a fresh towel under the sink,” I explain to her as I grab my toothbrush from the bathroom.

It’s only when I sling my own towel over my shoulder and pick up my gym bag that she snaps out of her daze.

“Wait, where are you sleeping?”

“Parker’s.”

“But doesn’t he—”

“He’s in Bahrain for F1. McKinley Motors invited him and Syd. They won’t be back till late next week.”

“Oh.” She nibbles on her lower lip.

“Need anything else?”

“No.” The word is quiet, and it takes me a moment to see the discomfort swimming beneath her skin.

It’s not my place to push her, though. I managed to get her here. She’s safe. My job is done as far as I am concerned. I don’t need to get any more involved in her life.

“’Kay. Night.”

“Wait.” Her word stops me at the threshold of the door.

I throw her a tired look over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“Do you have tea?”

“Tea?”

“You know, that beverage made when you soak dried leaves in hot water.”

“I know what tea is.”

“Didn’t sound like it.”

Brat.

“We have tea.” And then, because I can’t seem to fucking help myself, I add, “Do you want me to make you some?”

That shine returns to her eyes again. “Yeah, herbal would be great. It helps me relax.”

I give her a nod before finally dipping from the room.

I head to the kitchen to turn the kettle on and catch my reflection in the microwave.

How did I get myself into this situation?

Why am I making tea for a five-foot-nothing sprite at 3 a.m.?

I run a hand over my face before dropping a chamomile tea bag into a plain white mug and filling it with hot water. I carefully carry the drink back to my room and find Deer perched on the edge of my bed, fiddling around on her phone.

“Your tea.”

“Thanks.” She grants me a small smile as she takes the steaming mug from my hands, her fingers grazing mine.

I swallow hard. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“I know how tea works,” she laughs, and the sound settles the brewing storm within me,

“Right, well, night.”

“Night, Shield.”

I click the door shut but pause outside for a beat.

I wonder why she never uses my name.

I wonder why I’ve never noticed until now.

I wonder why I even care.