Chapter 46 Sloane
Sloane
Jacob Dixon is a killer.
He may be all smiles and easy talk when we meet in his study, but I see the man for what he is.
Perhaps it’s spending all this time with Zeth that’s done it—I can read the lines of Zeth like the lines of a book—but I recognize the signs now.
The two men are cut from different cloth, though.
Zeth is dangerous in a primal, instinctive way.
It’s the foundation of everything that makes him who he is.
Jacob, on the other hand, isn’t inherently dangerous.
He’s chosen to be so. He’s earned the fear of those around him and wears his intimidating persona like a cloak, as if he can take it off and put it back on again whenever it pleases him.
I don’t know whom I should be more worried about: the man who was born into violence, or the man who chose to descend into it.
“And what did you say you do for a living again, Ms. Hawthorne?” Jacob brushes a meaty hand across the polished surface of his desk, sweeping away imaginary dust. He crooks a skeptical eyebrow at me, waiting for me to answer him.
“Uh… I’m…”
“Because you ain’t a hooker, obviously,” he says, waving a hand in my general direction. “Your tits and your ass ain’t on show. And I haven’t met many escorts or strippers with a name like Naomi Hawthorne.” He says my fake name like he knows that’s exactly what it is.
Shit. When he asked for my surname, I said the first thing that came to mind. I should have said Sparkles or something. Lovelace. Symphony. I sound like a fucking dentist. “No,” I say. “Not a hooker. I—”
“Naomi’s a doctor,” Zeth cuts in, slowly craning his head and looking around the room, as if being here is boring him to tears.
How can he be so fucking calm? I’m sweating bullets from my forehead.
And he told Jacob the truth? For crying out loud.
As if it won’t be easy for a man like Jacob Dixon to figure out which hospital I work at.
Even in my very vanilla circles, I’ve heard of him.
I’ve read about the Black Talons in the newspapers.
If Jacob does some digging and decides I’m not who I say I am, then he won’t blink.
He’ll kill me and bury me in a shallow grave somewhere in the desert. They’ll never find my body.
“A doctor?” Jacob looks impressed and confused at the same time. “What kind of doctor?”
“Trauma.” I reply without hesitation this time; no point in lying anymore.
“Huh. Interesting.”
Zeth snorts. “Is it?”
Jacob looks sharply at him. “Of course! The women who end up here aren’t usually…”
“Literate?” Zeth’s in a bad mood. He’s lost the nervous tension he carried in his shoulders as we made our way to the study, and now he just seems pissed off. And bored. I don’t know if it’s for real or if he’s acting, but if he is, he’s doing a good job. His quip makes Jacob laugh, though.
“Exactly. They’re not quite your… shall we say, caliber, Naomi? How the hell did you end up falling into bed with this sick bastard? Something traumatic happen to his dick or something?”
Zeth snorts but doesn’t say anything. This one’s all on me.
A prime opportunity to convince Jacob of my motives in coming here.
“I guess you could say that.” I smile coyly, glancing at Zeth out of the corner of my eye, as though I’m imparting some salacious secret about him.
“I was invited to one of Zeth’s parties.
I took one look at him and knew what kind of treatment he needed.
And yeah, his dick was definitely involved.
Although I think I was the one who suffered the trauma. ”
Oh. My. Good. Lord.
Where is this stuff coming from? Blood rushes to my cheeks and sets them burning.
I can only hope Jacob attributes my blushing to the tale I just spun and not embarrassment.
A real flicker of amusement flashes in Zeth’s eyes.
I suddenly realize that what I just said could actually be mistaken for the truth.
I did go to one of his parties, and I did sleep with him there.
And in all honesty, he did fuck me ridiculously hard.
I do my best not to cringe. I get the feeling Zeth is loving this.
He’s found a toothpick from somewhere and is shuttling it back and forth over his bottom lip, returning my sidelong glance. Apparently he’s no longer bored.
“Sounds intriguing. Did you suck it?”
My head snaps around to look at Jacob. Zeth’s eyes travel slowly from me back to the guy with the Southern accent, too, so that he’s staring at the other man.
He stills the toothpick in his hands, pressing it against his lip.
Heat wells in the base of my throat, undoubtedly turning my rosy cheeks crimson. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you suck his dick?” Laughing, Jacob asks the question like it’s nothing. Like it isn’t weird as fuck that he would ask that.
“Well, yeah, of course I did.” I don’t pull off “seductively amused” as well as I would have liked.
I sound more like a flustered schoolgirl than someone who shared a bed with Zeth Mayfair and kept up with him.
How the hell did I think I could do this?
I am not going to be able to pull it off.
The knowing look in Jacob’s eyes confirms this.
Zeth slouches in his seat beside me, rocking his head back to stare up at the ceiling, toying with his toothpick again.
“Are we nearly done here? I was hoping I could grab a little of that dog that bit me. My head’s fucking pounding. ”
“I tell you what’s good for a hangover, brother,” Jacob says, turning his attention to Zeth. “Getting your dick sucked.”
Zeth’s head rolls forward. He doesn’t look impressed.
Thankfully, Jacob’s too busy gauging Zeth’s reaction to catch mine.
He wants me to do it? Now? In front of him?
This is definitely a test. Zeth smiles, and the smile is a silk-wrapped threat.
“I just fucked the girl two seconds ago. Didn’t you hear?
” He points the toothpick over his shoulder, gesturing not only into the corridor but into the recent past, when he had me bent over his lap and slapped my ass raw.
Jacob shrugs. “Sounded like you were killing the woman, sure. But this pretty piece of ass is still sitting here, twirling her pretty hair around her pretty fingers, so we all know that wasn’t the case.
” He grins at Zeth, leaning forward across his desk.
“What’s the matter, man, huh? Can’t get it up again so quick?
I know it ain’t cause you’re shy. I seen you fuck plenty of girls under this roof. ”
My hands curl involuntarily, the tips of my ears burning. I choose to get upset over that, and not the fact that a lowlife piece-of-shit criminal wants me to drop to my knees in his office and blow Zeth right in front of him? Stupid.
Zeth nods, seeming to consider this. “Guess so. But that was a while back. I’m a little more restrained these days.”
“Bullshit!” Jacob laughs, but his whole face is turning red, highlighting the spiderweb of burst blood capillaries in his cheeks. Here is a man who drinks too much. Gets mad too much. He probably gets his own way too much, too. But not today.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I’m not gonna give you a private show this morning.
You’ve already established that I’m not like your other girls.
If you’re after some cheap entertainment, then by all means go ahead.
Bring one of your other girls in here. But I’m not some performing show pony, to be gawped at by strangers. I think I’ll go read by the pool.”
I’m standing up. I don’t know when I did it, but I’m on my feet.
I straighten my shirt, trying to fix what I hope is a cool look on both of the startled men.
Zeth looks like I’ve just thrown a bucket of cold water over him.
Jacob’s mouth hangs open, eyes narrowed in confusion, as though the words I just spoke were in a foreign language and he didn’t understand a one of them.
The panic rolls in quick. Not even Zeth, who isn’t afraid of anyone, refused Jacob’s wishes so bluntly. Jacob clears his throat, looking back down at his desk for a moment while I try to prevent myself from succumbing to the titanic swell of alarm building behind my breastbone.
“So you wouldn’t care if I asked another woman to come in here, Ms. Hawthorne?” Jacob asks the question slowly, showing considerable restraint.
“Of course not. Why would I?” Despite my clammy hands and the color still rising in my cheeks, I know I’ve nailed it this time.
I’ve managed to affect an air of complete indifference toward Zeth that makes me fist-pump on the inside, while all that shows on the outside is one gently raised eyebrow.
“I’m afraid you seem to be confusing the dynamic of my relationship with Zeth, Mr. Dixon.
I’m not the one on my knees, begging for snippets of his affection. It’s entirely the other way around.”
Zeth coughs violently. Just once. I’ve startled him with my comment as much as I’ve startled myself.
I try not to react as I calmly exit the room.
The door is barely closed before I slump against the wall in the hallway, my pulse pounding in my ears like gunfire.
Shit, shit, shit. The meeting was not supposed to go like that, but, boy, did that pig make my blood boil.
He clearly holds women in low regard. And to be told so casually to degrade myself in front of him?
On no day of the week was that going to happen.
Thanks to my quick temper, I’ve just created a problem, though.
I was supposed to make Jacob believe I was the one desperate for Zeth’s attention.
Now it seems as though I’ve just implied Zeth is on his knees for me instead.