Chapter Twenty-Three
TIG
It was a slow week.
And if there was one thing a group of three men who were used to pretty constant work and a fair amount of action weren’t comfortable with, it was sitting around on our hands.
But that was exactly what we were doing. We were all in Sawyer’s office, the two of them sitting down and drinking coffee, while I stood by the window. Marg was out, so there was absolutely no warning before the door burst open and a woman stood there.
To say that she was gorgeous would truly be the understatement of a decade. But then again, she’d always been beautiful.
She was tall—all legs and torso with a high, round ass and just enough up top to pique a man’s interest. She had fucking flawless tawny skin, with long, curly black hair and stunning hazel eyes.
And because she was who she was, she dressed to impress.
She wore a tight hunter green pencil skirt and a second-skin white long-sleeve tee that was short enough for there to be a sliver of skin exposed between the hem of that and the waist of her skirt.
Her feet were in some kind of distressed green boots, and she held a green and white striped clutch in her hand that had five mini silver rings on three different fingers and a silver watch on a white band on one wrist.
She dressed like that because she designed clothes for a living.
“Oh, fuck. Here’s trouble,” Brock said, shaking his head, an amused smile in place.
He wasn’t wrong.
If there was one thing Kenzi was, it was trouble.
“Kenz,” Sawyer said, already shaking his head at her.
“Sawyer,” she said, lifting her chin already, likely reading the fact that he didn’t want to deal with her. “I need your help.”
“Oh, like fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head.
“Why can’t you ask your brothers?” Brock asked.
“Paine is still in that ridiculous honeymoon phase with Elsie, and Enzo is in the city working for Xander Rhodes and talking about that Espen chick. They’ve both done enough cleaning up for me.”
“Do they know you’re in some kind of trouble?”
“Did I say I was in trouble?”
“You said you needed help.”
“Since when are those synonyms for each other?”
“Since about the day you were old enough to leave the house alone. You have been nothing but a walking, talking, hot as shit bundle of trouble.”
To that, her lips twitched. “I’ll let that slide because you called me hot-as-shit. But to answer your question, no. I haven’t talked to my brothers about this, and I have no plans to. Neither will any of you.”
“Are you in danger?”
“Depends on what your definition is.”
“Do you know someone who is going to mark you up or kill you?”
“Listen, it’s not…”
“Then we’re not taking your case.”
“Sawyer…”
“No,” he said, more firmly.
“Brock,” she tried, turning her gaze on him.
“Sweetheart, I’m not in charge here.”
Her shoulders squared, and her jaw tightened. See, even if you only knew Kenzi from afar like I did, you knew when she was about to blow off. And, see, she was known for her attitude, strong enough to take on both of her badass ex-gangbanging brothers.
“You listen to me, you arrogant bastard,” she snapped, moving toward the desk and planting her hands on it, leaning toward him. “See? I know you know me. But the thing is, I do my due diligence. So I looked into you. And you, Sawyer Anderson, have one weakness.”
“Babe, if you knew me, you’d know I have no weaknesses.”
“Oh,” she said, smiling a little. “See, it’s funny you should ask me about my brothers. Because if you refuse to help me, I am going to see yours.”
Sawyer stiffened at that.
See, she was right.
Barrett was Sawyer’s weak spot.
Because Barrett used to work for Sawyer, being the best fucking investigator most of us had ever come across, even being in the business ourselves.
But where he had brains, he lacked physical training.
Sawyer and Brock had a decade plus in the military, specializing in some black ops that weren’t even in some top-secret books.
Me, well, I grew up in a rough area.
I literally had to fight my way out.
Barrett was smart, scarily so, but he didn’t know a round kick from a fucking turkey sandwich.
Kenzi knew that because her brother, Paine, had been dating Elsie when Barrett was working on Elsie’s case. And Barrett got his ass kicked badly enough to warrant a hospital stay.
But, being stubborn, he refused to come back to work for Sawyer and, for either some sibling rivalry or some desire to prove himself, Barrett took every goddamn job that Sawyer refused.
None of us had any doubt that he would take on Kenzi too.
And we all knew that if Kenzi was asking for help, shit was serious.
“Kenz, if you aren’t going to tell me what you got yourself into, I can’t agree to help you.”
“I can pay.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“What is your deal, Sawyer?” she sighed.
“Listen, I don’t want a visit from your mammoth brothers when they find out I took a case for you without talking to them about it first.”
“If you call my brothers, I swear to…”
“Look, you want to know if your boyfriend is cheating? He is. You want to know if someone in your apartment building is a criminal? They are. You think an employee is skimming off the books? Yeah, he probably fucking is. Go with your gut. Drop the guy. Move somewhere else. Fire the jackass. There you go. Case closed.”
“Right. In case anyone hasn’t told you today, though I think that is wholly unlikely, you’re a jackass.
I would thank you for your time, but you’ve barely given me…
” she picked up her arm and checked her watch, a motion that was so uncommon anymore that I found myself fascinated by it, “two minutes of it. So fuck you very much and have a nice day.”
With that, she literally turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving her scent behind—something sweet and real: vanilla and flowers. Not that shit they charge you eighty dollars a bottle for to make you smell like a French whore.
“We should call Paine,” Brock said as soon as the click of her heels disappeared.
“I’m calling Barrett right now,” Sawyer said, reaching for his cell. “He won’t like it, but he’s not taking this case. And then, yeah, I’m calling Paine.”
“Why don’t I take the case?” I asked, making both of them turn to look at me.
“Tig, I know you’re not from around here originally,” Brock said, shaking his head.
“But Kenzi has been running wild since she was thirteen years old. I think everyone around here—from us to Wolf, Reign, Cash, and Breaker to at least half of the Mallicks—have dragged her out of one definitely dangerous or potentially dangerous situation and dropped her off at home. And, let me tell you, she’s never been thankful for it.
I, for one, had to take her home kicking and screaming when she was nearly fall-down drunk in high school.
Gina was thankful, of course, but I’ve never gotten a thank-you from Kenz. ”
That didn’t surprise me in the least. And, well, where I came from, I was used to hard-ass women with a lot of spirit. That shit didn’t faze me.
“And?”
“And if you take her case, Tig, she will make your life a living hell.”
“What if she really needs help, Sawyer?” I asked, shrugging.
“Don’t know her too well, but she seems like the kind of woman who doesn’t like asking for help.
So if she’s asking, if she swallowed her pride enough to come here, it could be serious.
Wouldn’t you rather someone with some experience look into it?
And like she said, Paine and Enzo have lives.
You know they’d drop everything for their sister, but maybe we shouldn’t call them until we know what she has going on.
Why make them drop everything if all she wants is to scare off a clingy ex? ”
Sawyer sighed, and I knew I had him.
“Fine. Go get her,” he said, nodding toward the door.
I didn’t need more than that. I took off down the hall and out of the building at a near run, stopping on the front steps to check the streets.
There was nowhere to park in the middle of a weekday, so she was likely heading for the main lot on the side street. With that thought, I made my way there.
I found her bleeping the button for a late-model white crossover SUV.
“Kenzi, wait up,” I called, making her stiffen and turn, eyes wary.
That was what made me realize I had made the right decision to champion her case. Women like her—confident, strong, wild, carefree, and ball-busting—yeah, they didn’t look wary often. Not in the middle of the day in a lot with people all around. She was safe.
But she didn’t feel safe.
“I’d say hi, but I don’t know your name.”
I wasn’t exactly offended by that. I made it a point to be under most people’s radars. I liked my anonymity. I liked, despite my job, to live a quiet life.
“Tig.”
“Tig. That’s a weird name.”
“My government one,” I said with a shrug. “You got brothers named Paine and Enzo, and my name is odd to you?”
“My father was a dick.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
“So he’s taking my case.”
“I’m taking your case.”
“No offense, but I know Sawyer and Brock. I don’t know you.”
“No, but Sawyer is calling his brother now to threaten him not to take your case. He kicks a lot of work Barrett’s way. A lot of work that adds up to a lot of money. If he takes you on, and Sawyer will cut him off and go elsewhere. He wants to prove himself, but not enough to risk his income.”
“You guys might be the only game in town, but this isn’t the boonies. I can find other PIs.”
“But not ones with the experience and resources and connections that I have.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself,” she said, lips tipping up.
“I’m not one for pride, honey, so if I tell you I’m good, it’s just a fact.”
“Why are you taking me on when your coworkers don’t want to come near me with a ten-foot stick?”
“Maybe because I didn’t have to deal with you puking in my car a lifetime ago or pry you out of the arms of a known bastard or any number of things that you have…”
“Yeah, yeah. I have a past. I don’t need a recap of mistakes I made, as you said, a lifetime ago.”
“Or maybe I think a woman like you asking for help means things are a fuckuva lot more serious than she is letting on.”
“A woman like me?” she asked, chin raising a bit.
“A strong woman,” I clarified.
She accepted that. “Are you going to call my brothers?”
“Not unless I have to.”
She looked me over slowly, taking in what she figured were my assets and faults, then shrugged. “Alright.”
“Alright?”
“Yeah. Meet me tomorrow at one-twenty-one Lone Oak West at seven in the morning.”
“Not going to tell me what I am walking into?”
“If you’re as good as you say you are, you can handle whatever it is, can’t you?” she asked, opening her door, climbing inside, and backing out of her spot, never once looking at me again.
I got the distinct feeling that Sawyer and Brock were right.
I had no fucking idea what I had just gotten myself into.
But, somehow, I was okay with that.