Free Wild Aces by Marni Mann Page A

Some of our clients were quick at making a purchase; some took their time to make sure things felt right. We didn’t push them. We also didn’t allow them to string us along forever. Adrianna and I knew that wasn’t the case with Morrison. He was a public figure, so he had reasons to move with caution, and we respected that.
    “That leaves us with”—I mentally subtracted Morrison and David from our active client list—“about forty-two more buyers to satisfy.”
    “Forty-three, if you count Jameson. I spoke to him today, and he gave me everything I needed to get started. I’ll have my assistant work on his request in the morning.”
    “Forty-three,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Damn.” It was a number I never thought we’d get to, considering our whole business was based on referrals.
    “If we continue growing at this rate, the compound might need an additional wing. That means we’ll need more staff there. Another assistant might not be a bad thing either.”
    I knew we’d need to hire more employees soon and add on more space. It was just a risky fucking move. The contractor who had built the compound had died in a skiing accident. There was only one other person I’d even consider hiring, and that was Derek Block. But I didn’t know if I could trust him with a secret that big or if I could even bring him there without disrupting the imports.
    “We’ll talk about it when I get back. Now, I want you to go to bed.”
    “I want to, but I don’t know if I can.” We didn’t have an easy job. She knew that better than I did. “Those screams, Trapper…shit. It’s the kind of hollering and wailing and clawing that you just don’t ever forget.”
    I moved to the other side of the room and pressed my forehead against the window. My eyes shut, and I tried to keep it all back there—the place in my mind where I stored the memories and wouldn’t let them the fuck out. She was right; you didn’t forget those sounds, not when you heard them and not when they were coming out of your own mouth.
    “You did good tonight, Adrianna. Do whatever you’ve got to do to quiet the screams.”
    I heard the click of a lighter and knew she hadn’t responded because she was hitting a joint. That was her silencer. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said finally.
    “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
    As I hung up, the screen of my phone changed from Adrianna’s number to a deck of cards. I’d turned the same photo into my first tattoo. It was inked on the left side of my chest.
    Those cards were the constant in my life, my escape. They were my silencer. Besides scraps of the necessities, only enough for me to survive on, that deck was the first thing anyone had ever given me. I kept one of the cards in my wallet. Some carried around pictures of their dog or their girl. I carried around the ace of hearts.
    I turned my back to the window, fiending for some fast play. If I didn’t get my mind off those screams—and the memories of my own—they’d haunt me for the rest of the night. There were plenty of cash games waiting for me downstairs, and that was where I’d be headed soon.
    But there was something I had to do first.

Brea
    “Those pictures you sent…” Trapper said, hardly giving me enough time to put the phone to my ear. “Jesus, Brea. Your body is fucking killing me.”
    It was the middle of the night. I’d made it home from the bar less than an hour ago. I hadn’t been in a deep sleep, but I was on my way. He didn’t even ask if I was sleeping, and he hadn’t even said hello. He just got straight to the point…and the point was my body.
    God, didn’t I like that.
    “So you likey?” I’d sent him a few more photos since the ones with the red lace and wet fingers. They were all body shots, different colors and styles of lingerie, holding the camera at certain angles to show him a little more, without revealing my face or ways to identify me.
    “It’s all I’ve thought about all day.”
    “So, I’m