Play to Win by Tiffany Snow

“Ryker’s on his way.”
    Shit. “Why Ryker?”
    “At this point, who else?”
    He had a point, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
    A set of uniformed cops led by Ryker in his plainclothes showed up not even ten minutes later.
    “What, no Natalie?” I asked when he walked through the door. And yeah, I totally sounded bitchy.
    Ryker shot me a look, which softened when he saw my swollen eyes and pale face. He stepped close to me.
    “You okay?” he asked in an undertone.
    His obvious concern took the bite out of my attitude.
    I nodded, adding, “I’m not the one you should be worried about. Parker and my dad were the ones who got hurt. Someone is after my dad.”
    “And you.”
    I shot Parker a glare—the last thing I needed was him and Ryker teaming up to go all bodyguard on me.
    “We’re already running the bullets through ballistics,” Ryker said. “Hopefully, we’ll pull up a match. In the meantime, someone broke into your apartment. You’re not safe here alone.”
    “She’s going to stay at my place,” Parker oh-so-helpfully threw in.
    Ryker’s brows climbed to his hairline, but he didn’t protest. He just nodded. “Okay then. I guess I’ll know where to find you.”
    He turned away but I snagged his sleeve. “What are you going to do about Natalie?” I asked.
    “I’m going to help her find Jessie,” he said.
    “Ryker…” I hesitated. “I don’t think you should trust her.”
    His face went blank. “It’s really none of your business,” he said flatly. “I’m here on an investigation about you. You should focus on your own problems and not worry about mine.”
    Well. That was a big ol’ brush off and fuck you wrapped into one. It felt like I’d been slapped and for once in my life, I didn’t know what to say. It hurt.
    “Natalie already has you being a complete dick,” Parker growled. “You’re older and supposedly wiser. Try to remember that.”
    The CSI guy came out of my bedroom and tapped Ryker on the shoulder to show him something. An animal collar with a tag.
    It was Mrs. Judson’s cat—or had been —and I insisted on being the one to go tell her, which was even more awful than I’d feared.
    She answered the door in her pink housecoat. I’d never seen her wear anything else. She was about a foot shorter than me, and no one had ever been able to ascertain her age, although she looked as if she could be anywhere from about seventy to ninety. I haltingly told her about her cat, trying to find the right words to explain without going into unnecessary gory detail.
    “But…why would someone do that?” she asked, blinking her tear-filled eyes behind her thick glasses. “He was my cat. Not yours.”
    “I don’t know,” I said, which was perfectly true. Guilt crawled up my throat because obviously I was to blame. “But I promise, I’ll get you another cat.”
    “I don’t want another cat,” she said. “I want Morris.” The tears she’d been blinking back slid down her cheeks then and she pressed her lips together and closed the door on me without another word. I didn’t blame her. If someone had killed my pet, I’d be pretty angry, too.
    “Well, that was just the capper on a real shitty twenty-four hours,” I said to Parker, who’d insisted on coming with me.
    “C’mon,” he said, taking my hand. “Let’s go.”
    I didn’t resist letting him lead me from the building. The cops were still busy in my apartment and I knew I’d have that lovely yellow police tape over my door yet again. I was becoming That Girl in the building.
    “Have you seen that girl lately? You won’t believe what’s happened to her now.” “I heard that girl was in trouble again.”
    I was the most excitement the building had seen since Prohibition.
    Parker held the car door for me and I slid inside. I thought I should offer to drive since he was hurt, but one glance at the hard planes of his face and I knew that wouldn’t be happening. I fought to stay awake, but was