CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE JESS
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JESS
There were rich people everywhere.
I knew they were because they had the rich-people speak. The “oh haw-haw” or the “Insert name, dawrrrling, how are youuuu?” or the “lovely” and “gracious me” and the laughs. Fake and forced and uppity. I knew my rich people, and I was surrounded by them.
That’s why I stuck to the food table and the bar.
I was on my second martini—don’t judge if I was pretending to be a rich folk today, but the martinis were good —when I heard next to me, “Officer Montell. I was informed of your arrival, but didn’t believe it. The same birdy told me you drove here with two other of my employees.”
Aw, crap.
Ashton Walden was at the end of the table, his head cocked to the side, and his eyes narrowed.
I tried to get a beat on what he was thinking or feeling, but I got nothing. Maybe curiosity? He didn’t seem perturbed that I was here, and I didn’t want to believe he was amused I was here either.
“Please tell me your other half is not present today.”
Now he was amused. I could tell as he tried hiding a quick grin. “At this rate it seems like he’s more like your other half.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, yes.” He glanced behind us, and I saw Vivianna watching us with avid interest. He came forward and took my elbow in his hand in a light grasp. He moved in close, speaking to the bartender. “A bourbon, please.” He eyed my drink. “Is that your first martini?”
I tipped my head back, drank the rest, and slid the glass on the counter. “Soon to be my third, hopefully.”
The bartender was eyeing us as he filled our drinks.
Ashton moved back a step, dropping his hand, and he turned to face me directly. “You are not striking me how Trace speaks of you.”
“How does he speak of me?”
“He’s never said you’re funny.”
“I take offense to that. I have a dry humor. It’s like wine. It appreciates.”
Ashton hid another grin before taking his bourbon from the bartender. “I’m learning. And I’m finding you oddly amusing.”
“It’s that wine humor. You must have class.”
He choked on another chuckle as he fished out a twenty and put it in the tip jar. “I’m sure I do.” His head lifted and he moved back, standing with his back to the bar but still beside me. “What’d you say to Viv earlier?”
The martini was slid across to me, and I took it, giving him a smile. “That tip was from me.”
“Thank you, Miss.”
Ashton turned again, giving me a wry look before putting another twenty in the jar. “I’ll take it from Trace later.”
“I’m sure you will.”
I was smiling and drinking, all casual and cool looking on the outside, but on the inside I was freaking out.
What the hell was I doing here? This was a lesson to me.
Stop hanging out with new people. Stop thinking an adventure was a good idea.
Stick to what you knew, and maybe life wouldn’t get handed to you backward on a spike.
And I was still hoping the latter wouldn’t happen, but knowing my luck, I doubted it.
Ashton indicated forward with his head. “Come with me. Tell me about your interaction with Viv. It looked very entertaining.”
That was another rich-person word. Very. They liked their “verys.”
We moved to the side, going through the barn to the back end. I glanced his way. “You were watching?”
“I was having a conversation on the side patio of the house before the barn. I saw your arrival. The birdy who informed me was myself. I informed myself.”
“Do you have appreciating humor too?”
He laughed, stepping out first to a back patio area. Beyond was a myriad of walking paths made of cobblestone. A large fountain was in the middle. Beyond was a horse pasture fenced in by white posts. I glimpsed a tennis court to the side.
Why was there not a pool here as well? Perhaps on the other side of the estate?
I was being sarcastic.
“I’m waiting, Officer Montell.”
Right. He wanted the 411. “It wasn’t much of anything. She insulted my friend, and I didn’t like that. I informed her of my profession and that I had a penchant for reporting whenever I saw drugs around. That was all, really.”
Ashton stopped, his head reared back as he was giving me another assessing look. We were in the middle of one of those cobblestone walkways, making our way around the fountain. I was hoping we’d keep going and I could see what kind of pool these people had. My guess was that it would be epic.
“Viv insulted Kelly?”
I frowned. The jokes were less appealing. “You’re aware of my friend’s name?”
He flashed me a look. “Of course I am. Trace is my best friend. I was the one who hired the PI for you.”
My stomach dropped. “That means ...”
“That means I got the files too. I’m quite aware your roommate and best friend, who is probably going to not be your roommate soon, is also my employee.
I’m aware of her name too.” He tilted his head to the side.
“I’m aware of Justin’s family connections.
I had him placed next to you also because of his other family’s occupation.
I thought you’d both bond with each other. ”
Right. I was swallowing bark here. “I wasn’t aware you are that active with Katya’s employees.”
“Trace handles the money. I handle our businesses.”
“And your families?” Guess I was going there. I needed to double down. “You’re both on retainer for your families? Is that how it works? You do your legit work during the day and act as your family’s bitches at night? Is that what you guys were doing at my aunt’s—”
“Careful. I won’t be like Trace, and I doubt you’re wearing a wire. Right?”
“I’m asking about your families.”
“Our families are none of your business.” His tone matched mine, becoming serious.
I bristled. “Does Viv know what business your family is in?”
“If you think Viv’s family doesn’t have connections as well, you’re not the jaded PO that I’m assuming my best friend is banging.”
I started for him but caught myself.
He stepped back, his eyes flashing. One of his hands lifted, but his head moved again, going the other way. “I struck a nerve? Or maybe you haven’t screwed yet.”
“I’m thinking that’s none of your business.”
“Trace isn’t just my best friend. He’s my brother.
He’s more family to me than my real family, so yes, a certain parole officer who is leading him around and toying with his emotions most definitely is part of my business.
In every sense of the word.” His eyes chilled.
“Amusing as this conversation has been, I need to impress upon you not to fuck with my best friend anymore. I don’t enjoy him suffering. ”
Well, holy fuck.
I took a step back. “Are you kidding me? He’s in my business, in my family’s business, finding me when I’m doing art, and I haven’t done a painting in goddamn years. But I’m fucking with him ? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
He smirked. “I’m fairly certain you know exactly who I am.”
“You might want to be careful who you’re threatening here.”
“Because you’re a PO?”
“Because while you think you know me, at the end of the day, you have no idea who I actually am.” I lowered my voice.
So did he. “Get out of my face, while I’m not feeling murderous right now.”
I reacted without thinking. That was a threat and, tossing my drink, my hand went for my weapon. I always wore it, or at least most of the time. At the same time, someone screamed, and suddenly someone else was at our side. A hand closed over mine, and goddamn, I knew whose hand that was.
Trace pressed in, keeping my weapon where it was, and he spoke fast. “I don’t know what the fuck you two just got into, but it’s over. Ashton, walk.”
“Tra—”
“Walk!” He didn’t wait. Moving so he was blocking my view from his best friend, his eyes drilled into mine. “I’m going to let go of your hand, and I’m going to back up and give you space. Don’t shoot me.”
He did as he said, his hands in the air a little bit.
I breathed in, reeling that Trace was here.
My hand was tingling.
He stopped two steps back. “You okay?”
I looked away, swallowing over a lump in my throat. “He threatened me.”
“He tends to do that.” He took a step toward me.
I shook my head, moving backward myself.
He stopped. “Okay, okay. I’m not coming any farther, but I suggest we get out of here or move where we don’t have so many eyes on us. People know us here, and there will be talk. I’d like to head off any talk before I get a phone call from my uncle. You hear me?”
He was right.
Goddamn, he was right.
I was still half reeling from what had almost happened.
As if sensing it was okay, Trace moved in. He touched my arm, lightly, and began steering me away. “What happened between you two?”
“He told me to get out of his face while he wasn’t feeling murderous. That’s a threat.”
He cursed under his breath. “Yeah, well, that’s Ashton.”
“You can’t say something like that to someone like me.”
“I’m thinking he’s realizing that, too, right about now.” He let go of my arm but tapped the back of my hand. He jerked his head toward a sidewalk going around the other side of the house. “Who are you here with?”
“My roommate and her boyfriend.”
“Come on.” He was leading the way until we cleared the side of the house and pulled out his keys, going toward the vehicles.
I stopped. “What? No.”
He stopped too. “Jess, you need to listen to me. You should not be here. There are people here who have connections to my family that we don’t want them to know about you.
The more you’re here, the more you’ll get on their radar.
I know you have threatened and pleaded with me enough to leave you alone, but I’m being totally up front here.
I can’t, not here . You cannot be here.”
“Kelly. Justin.”
“Justin is protected. And while she’s with him, so is she. You’re not, and I’m not talking about your safety. I’m talking about my uncle asking questions about you, and then about your aunt, and then her husband. Are you following where I’m going?”
My chest felt like it was caving into me, but damn. Yeah. I was following.