Chapter 14
Scarlett
I’m not going to walk in any such way that Nisha or Basti will notice how sore I am.
I yawn and act all casual when I waltz into the kitchen the following morning. I’ve showered. Twice. I have one of Bohnes’ long-sleeved sweater crops with some messed up skeleton thing on the front. For my bottoms, I’m wearing a pair of Alexei’s four-figure joggers. Burberry is written on the side.
Ash is already in the kitchen when I walk in, on his knees in front of Gram. She’s ignoring him as she pours herself a cup of coffee with shaking hands.
“Hey Gram,” I say with my best shit-eating smile in place. It feels like glass, this smile. Basti gives me this abort mission look. Nisha is chatting it up with my grandma, like this is any normal morning.
“My mom couldn’t figure out how to work the shower. I had to show her three times and she still doesn’t get it.” Nisha sighs and gives me a look, eyes flicking up and down me in a way that says I know what you did last night, bitch. Hah.
Ash looks up at me, a bit of self-respect in his stare that wasn’t there before.
He’s on his knees for my grandmother because he wants to be there.
Fine. As long as she isn’t throwing shit at him.
I fold my arms. Patricia picks up the mug, turns, and then gently reaches out to pat Nisha on the cheek.
I’m so jealous, I could foam. Like a rabid fuckin’ dog. I feel my lip curl as Gram escapes and I’m left there with the knowledge that I’d have chosen this life even if I knew she’d walk away from me. I’ll never stop trying to take care of her though.
“Patricia and I had a long talk this morning. Give her some time. She’ll be okay.
She knows you, Scar. As well as Bastian or I do.
” Nisha moves over to where Ash is kneeling and then holds out her hand.
He takes it, climbing to his feet and offering a nod of thanks.
“She knows you’ve got a good heart, Scar.
Chin up.” Nisha flicks a painted fingernail at my chin, leaning in to put her lips by my ear. “He’s standing right behind you.”
I look up, craning my head around, finding Bohnes lording over me. Oh. Hi.
“Back up a minute. I need to hear some shit from my girl.” I wait for him to comply, his blue eyes laced to my brown ones. We’re tangled together in a gothic shroud, competing for dominance without saying a single word. Playing chicken. I never lose a game of chicken.
“The more times we fuck, the more attached to you I become.” Bohnes cocks his head, white hair in his face. Not dressed to go out. Not dressed to slink. Just wearing wrinkled pajamas and messy hair. Sunlight across his face. I take a deep breath.
The house is quiet. There are trees outside the windows. I trust the people around me implicitly.
A strange peace settles over me as Bohnes’ words penetrate my bubble of shock.
“That’s how it’s supposed to work. Now, scooch.” I flick my fingers at Bohnes and he sighs dramatically, moving around me and pausing beside Ash. They’re talking together in tones too quiet to hear. Ahh, see. Stealing secrets whenever they can.
Basti saunters over, holding some pre-made sandwich he got out of the fridge.
I told my girls to go nuts at the grocery store, so they brought back a ton of expensive stuff from the deli and the bakery.
There are loaves of sourdough bread on the counter that probably cost an arm and a leg.
A jar of green olives because: fancy. I wince a little as I adjust myself, my pussy reminding me how many times I took big dick last night.
I won’t say parking space. I’d rather die.
“I’m glad you’re satisfied with these crazy fuckboys,” Nisha says with a begrudging sigh.
She can’t deny that her and Basti and all my other girls got paid—with Bohnes’ funds.
I had to send some of the ladies down to fill a bunch of pre-paid debit cards with money to pass out.
Most of the crew doesn’t have their own bank accounts.
“But what are we doing about Chet? It’s time for us to get justice for Lemon. ”
“I have an idea, but it feels edgy,” I whisper, lips parting in surprise when Ash puts a hand on Bohnes’ arm and isn’t pushed away.
I also noticed that yesterday, inside the Cobra, Ash had the frog stuffie that Bohnes gifted him.
Ash steps aside, making up a breakfast plate from the skillets he has scattered across the stove.
If these other guys weren’t here, who do you think would be cooking and cleaning? It wouldn’t be me. Bohnes should be glad that he never has to do domestics ever again. He seems to be, the way he’s looking at Ash right now.
“Yeah? And what is it?” Nisha keeps her voice down as Basti leans against the counter beside the stove, teasing Ash by pretending to flirt with him.
I wet my lips, eyes greedily drinking in the scene in front of me.
Here we are standing in a kitchen that’s roughly the size of the first floor at Gram’s place.
It’s beautiful, marble counters and a center island as big as my old kitchen.
Two sinks. A window that looks at the gardens and the woods beyond them.
I spot several of my girls on patrol, packing heat and wearing Kevlar.
Now where did that come from? I flick my eyes to Bohnes as he accepts a full plate of food from Ash’s hand.
I turn back to Nisha, throwing loose hair over my shoulder. I’m makeup-free. Hair messed. Pj’s wrinkled. Not the sexy nightie I had on last night. Holy shit, last night.
“Did I mention that Ash told me Chet was at Basti’s club a lot? That guys would leave with him?” I lift a brow, an awareness prickling at the back of my neck. Widow’s coming. “Let’s get a dancer there to work for us.”
Three…two…I feel his hands slide over my shoulders.
“What are you whispering about over here?” he asks, his voice dropping dangerously. “I hate secrets as much as you do.”
“Secrets?” Bohnes repeats, holding a cup of coffee that Ash has given him. Bohnes sips it, his bright eyes boring into me. “Like the one that I’m keeping?” He grins, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Here it comes. “The man you thought was me last night wasn’t me at all.”
“The fuck does that mean?” Nisha demands, annoyed.
“The fuck does that mean?” Basti repeats, practically salivating.
I toss my hair and give into the urge to eye roll.
“Widow.” I look over my shoulder to see him standing there, his stare on Bohnes instead of me. Adrian very slowly drags those eyes to me, hot and thick like honey. “If I’d mistaken you for another man, what would you have done?”
“Walked my ass straight out of that room, slept in a guest bed.” Widow gives me a shoulder squeeze.
We both know Bohnes would’ve done the same if I’d insulted him like that.
Bohnes sighs dramatically, like we’ve ruined his fun before he even got started.
Widow asks, “What’s going on with Chet? I assume you have a plan. ”
“I want to get a guy to dance at the club.” I gesture in Bastian’s direction, indicating which club I’m talking about.
“Encourage him to get close to Chet, see if Chet picks him up. Should be easy enough to figure out what his type is. Then, bam. We follow the idiot and execute an expeditious kill order.”
“That’s risky,” Ash says, bringing me a cup of coffee next.
He encapsulates my hands with his own as he passes it over, pressing my palms against the warm mug as he stares into my eyes.
He’s here. All of this was worth it, just for this.
I hope he knows that. “Whoever you send, they could be dead before you can get to them. After he finishes fucking someone he shouldn’t be fucking, Chet shoots them and has his men send the body straight to the funeral home that he owns. ”
My skin goes cold, competing with the warm mug and the touch of Ash’s hands on mine. Widow, standing behind me. Bohnes making his way across the kitchen. Alexei appears in a different pair of crisp silk pajamas, his blond hair freshly washed and styled.
“Then send someone disposable,” Alexei adds, like he’s been a part of the conversation all along. It’s a cold statement. Ruthless. Practical. He’s not wrong. We can get a guy to do it for cash, easy. I’m confident I can make this work without our target losing his life. But if he does…
“Instead of hiring some rando, let me do it.” Bastian lifts his chin, knowing what my reaction is going to be.
“Before you accuse me of putting myself in harm’s way, think of it like this: we’re in this together.
We’ve committed all sorts of risky business in the past. This is about Lemon, Scarlett.
This isn’t just a fuckboy agenda. We want this, too. ”
“He’ll recognize you,” Ash whispers, hunched over with his hood up.
Seems like he’s learning to flick it up when he’s having issues with overblown emotions.
The sword is safely tucked into its sheath.
Good boy. “Chet will recognize you and you’re done for.
He’ll take you out of the club and drive you somewhere remote—”
Ash stops talking.
I fold my arms. What I want to do is bite my thumbnail, but how can I do that when I’m telling Ash that he can’t? Because I’m the boss. No. Being the boss isn’t an excuse, it’s a reason to do better.
“Basti is a bad bitch. He can handle himself in a situation like this.” I look him directly in the face and I know that I have to put faith in my third-in-command. Nisha is nodding her agreement. This is something our crew can handle. No outside help required.
Well, the boys can assist. They’re my personal crew. They ain’t takin’ point though.
“Somewhere remote sounds nice,” Alexei agrees thoughtfully, tucking latex hands into the pockets of his expensive silk pajama pants.
That’s literally my new fetish: black latex and pale blue silk.
Hard and soft. He looks rich and devious like that.
“Chet’s death is not going to be an easy one. Messy, too. Difficult to clean up.”