Chapter 118 Cold Palm

Chapter 118 Cold Palm
POV: ELI
Two weeks. One month, tops.
He was already counting from the lobby.
The elevator had taken her down. He had watched her go. He had stood there until the number above the door stopped changing and then he had walked back inside the Obsidian Ace and told himself he was fine.
He was not fine.
He had replicated the rule of threes in his head on the walk back through the casino floor, the way Godric used to recite it when he wanted to make a point about necessity.
Three minutes without air. Three days without water. Three weeks without food.
Brigail was none of those things. She was considerably worse.
"Come to think of it," she had said, leaning into him in the elevator with her shoulder against his arm, "you'll be able to see me and I won't be able to see you. That's not really fair, is it."
He had looked at their reflection in the polished elevator doors. Her hair loose, the yellow sundress, her hand in his.
"None of this is fair," he had said.
She had lifted their hands and pressed her lips to his knuckles. He had wanted to spin her around and give her the kind of kiss that would be worth the separation. He hadn't done it. It would have made leaving harder and she needed to leave.
She had stepped out of the elevator.
He had watched the door close between them.
He was in the security center before he registered where his feet had taken him. Jimmy was at the board, three screens running.
One of them showed the hallway outside Brigail's suite at the Mandalay.
Barry Carrolton was still there.
Eli said nothing. He watched. Barry moved closer to her door. Then closer to her.
Jimmy leaned toward the screen. "Walk away, dickhead," he whispered.
Barry did not walk away.
Eli's hand closed around the back of Jimmy's chair.
Roman, behind him, had his hand on the door.
"Get the car," Eli said.
"Wait." Jimmy pointed. "Look."
On screen, Brigail had slipped inside her suite. The door was closed. Barry stood in the hallway alone for a long moment, then turned and walked back to the elevator.
The room let out a collective breath.
Jimmy spun his chair around and met Roman's eyes. The look that passed between them required no translation.
That had been too close.

Two nights ago. His suite at the Obsidian Ace.
His back against the headboard. Her back against his chest. The beige blanket. Her arms hooked over his.
"The key to a perfect bluff isn't pretending you have a stronger hand," he said, his thumb tracing slow figure eights on her bare thigh. "It's showing your opponent your weakness. Then making that weakness work for you."
She tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. He ran the tip of his nose along her skin.
"So I let him come to me," she said.
"You let him think it was his idea to back you into a corner. When he does, that's when you make your demands for Michele." He paused. "The snitch has to come from inside his payroll. Someone whose loyalty is already bought. Someone who won't look suspicious for turning on you."
She thought about it. "Barry?"
"Nora."
She made a sound of pure revulsion. He felt it in the shift of her shoulders.
He hid the smirk before she could catch it. He was slightly too slow.
She twisted halfway to face him and grabbed the blanket up to her collarbones. "You're enjoying this."
"I don't know what you're referring to."
"You know exactly what you're referring to."
He opened his hands in a gesture of complete innocence.
"I'm not jealous," she said. "I just don't trust her. Her obsession with you brings out the worst in me."
"Can you blame her?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Who wouldn't be obsessed with me?"
"I'm not obsessed with you."
"Says the girl who sneaks into my room in the middle of the night."
She gasped. "I am not obsessed with you. I am in love with you. There's a considerable difference." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "You, on the other hand. You are obsessed with me."
"Baseless speculation."
"You stalked me at my apartment," she said, thumb up. "You bought the restaurant I was working in." Pointer finger. "You sent Victor to Sabaneta for threatening me." Middle. "You threw a deposed prince in prison for trying to kiss me." Ring finger. "Do you want me to continue? I have more."
He stared at her.
"Fine," he said. "I'm obsessed with you."
Her smile was victorious and completely unrestrained and he despised himself for finding it so entirely satisfying.
He pulled her back against him.
She let him.
"Russell won't let you have Michele without something in return," he said, after a while. "He'll want Thalia. Make it look like it costs you something to give her up. Don't offer. Let him ask."
"And Nora telling him about Thalia is what makes him ask."
"Correct."
She was quiet for a moment. "You're using his own surveillance against him."
"I'm letting him find what he wants to find."
She turned her head just far enough to see his profile. "You know," she said, "for someone who claims not to be obsessed with me, you've put together quite a complicated plan to keep me alive."
He pressed his lips to her temple.
"Go to sleep," he said.
She did.
He did not.