• Three •
“Just keep talking, kitty.”
Storm
“Why the fuck are we here again?” Thatcher asked in a bored tone.
“Because Jameson Chester owes us money,” I replied, although he knew the answer already.
He grunted as he slid his sunglasses on and walked over toward the bar. I didn’t want to be here either, but we had to send our warning to the dipshit who owed us over half a million dollars. He’d made the mistake of ignoring Stellan’s call. So, we were here to collect. Surrounded by rich, uppity assholes that we were expected to mingle with for the sake of appearances. King was getting out of all kinds of shit with a new baby at home. Since he was the first one to have a kid, I wasn’t sure how long that would last and when he was going to have to get fully invested in family stuff again.
Stellan turned to look at me, and the slight nod of his head meant I had to start talking to folks and stop standing off alone, looking like I was here to kill someone. Which wasn’t the plan. We were going to hurt him first.
Jameson Chester was an asshole. He’d been born into this life and not done a damn thing to deserve the successful business he was given. His father had been the one to build the whiskey empire that he was now running into the ground with his inability to handle funds. Taking him out of this world wouldn’t be something to mourn. But that wasn’t my call.
I saw Joel Highland, the state’s chief justice, headed my way. It was too late to join Thatcher at the bar. I had to pretend to care what he had to say. The man was powerful, but he too was indebted to us. He’d had to ask for more than one favor over the years. In return, he was ours to control. Even if he liked to pretend otherwise.
“Storm Kingston,” he said with a smile breaking across his round face. “How’s your father? I didn’t see him with Stellan.”
“He’s good. It’s his and Mom’s anniversary. They’re off celebrating,” I explained.
He chuckled. “Well, now, you gotta keep the wife happy. I hear Stellan has a horse in the Derby this year that’s already being predicted to win. That’s normally Garrett’s good fortune. He’s not racing one this year though, it seems.”
I shook my head. “Not this year. Blaise is sitting this year out for the main race. Next year though, he’s already preparing for.”
He nodded. “Ah, yes. Blaise is now handling the horses too, I see.”
I wasn’t answering that. Not his business. What the boss did or did not handle within the family was something only we knew. Blaise Hughes had taken over his father, Garrett’s, position as boss more than a year ago now. Stellan, along with my dad and the other older members, hadn’t been sure about that move at first. Blaise was known for his brutality. However, he’d managed to gain more influence and power in a short time, proving everyone wrong and justifying Garrett’s decision.
Joel shifted his gaze to the left and smirked. “He’s got balls, that one,” he muttered, then shook his head. “Sol Mercer will demand her daddy get his head on a plate if she finds out he’s already cheating. But then you have to commend him on taste. His new one looks like a supermodel. Even makes Sol seem plain.”
Sol Mercer was the youngest daughter of Dorian Mercer, owner and CEO of the Mercer restaurant chains. I had met her once, and hopefully, I never had to suffer the experience again. I turned my head to see what female Jameson Chester had arrived with while I straightened, preparing to alert Thatcher that he was finally here. I froze when my eyes locked on the woman Jameson had on his arm.
Fucking hell.This had to be a joke. I’d thought she was stunning in a pair of jeans, cowboy boots, and a halter top. I blinked, slightly stunned. Jesus, that woman was lethal.
“Beauty, isn’t she? How did Chester manage that?” Joel asked.
I was pissed at my own reaction to her. I knew what she was, and I hated it. She was as shallow and manipulative as she was gorgeous. Sure, I respected the fact that she’d overcome a shit past, but there were other ways to do it. She’d chosen one that I couldn’t overlook. Well, this time around, she’d latched on to the wrong guy. He didn’t have the money to pay her off. He was in so much debt; he was barely keeping his head above water. I hadn’t known he was engaged to Sol, but it made sense. He needed the money, and she had access to millions.
I saw Jameson tense the moment he spotted Stellan. His eyes swung right, and when he saw Thatcher leaning against the bar, watching him, I could see the sweat beads pop out on his forehead. I waited as his eyes scanned the room until he found me. I simply nodded my head once.
Yeah, fucker. You asked for it. Now, here we are.
I refused to allow myself to look at Briar again. She wasn’t my concern. I was here to deal with her date. She probably needed to get an Uber home; Jameson wouldn’t be in any shape to drive. Thatcher moved first, and Jameson smiled brightly as he headed in the opposite direction.
I turned my attention back to Joel. “If you’ll excuse me, we have some business to handle.”
Joel paled slightly, as if suddenly understanding, and stepped back, giving me a wide berth. “Of course. Be sure to tell your father he was missed.”
I didn’t respond as I walked over to Thatcher, who was moving in behind Jameson. He’d more than likely try and get himself surrounded by people, but it was a waste of time. There wasn’t a soul here who would stand in our way.
Thatcher took a drink from his glass as a wicked grin curled his lips. “Did you see his date?”
As if anyone could miss her.
“Yeah.”
He licked his bottom lip. “I forgot how fucking hot she was.”
I hadn’t. She’d appeared in more than one of my fantasies over the past seven months. I wasn’t telling him that though. Knowing her scheme and seeing it in action were two different things. Didn’t mean I wouldn’t fuck her if I had the chance, but it did leave me with a certain disgust that took some of her appeal away. She could never be truly trusted. I’d know her lies, and it would make me dislike her more- even when they fell from her ridiculously plump pink lips.
“She’s gonna need a ride home. Think I’ll offer,” he said as his eyes stayed locked on Jameson.
“Stay focused,” I replied irritably.
Jesus, the woman even had Thatcher distracted.
Stellan stepped in front of Jameson, causing them to stop. We stood back and waited in case he was stupid enough to run. I knew other guests were watching. They all knew what was happening, and it was likely the crowd would clear out. None of them wanted to be an innocent bystander, not that we’d handle this in the open. Stellan would take him somewhere away from witnesses.
“He’s trembling,” Thatcher said with amusement in his voice.
Briar turned slightly and glanced back over her shoulder. When her eyes met mine, she tensed. I smirked, unable to help myself. She was putting the pieces together. Whatever Stellan was saying right now, I had no doubt she understood the real meaning behind his words.
Her hand slid away from Jameson’s arm, and she said something with that bright showstopping smile of hers, then stepped back away from him. When she started in our direction, I was surprised. I had expected her to get away. Leave. Get the hell out of here. Not walk directly to the danger. I wondered where she had that gun of hers stowed. Probably the little purse she had tucked under her arm.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” Thatcher muttered under his breath.
I didn’t have time to tell him to shut up before she was in front of us.
Her eyes swung from Thatcher to me. “What’s he done?” she asked point-blank.
“Hiss,” Thatcher replied.
“Can’t tell you that. But you should leave,” I told her, wishing like fuck she didn’t interest me.
She took a deep breath and studied me for a moment. “I see,” she finally replied.
The disappointment in her eyes only managed to piss me off. Could she not even pretend like she cared about someone other than herself?
“Waste of time,” she muttered, glancing back at him.
Damn, this woman was bold with her intensions. She didn’t give a shit about hiding them. It was all about her gain. She could do so much more with that face and that voice. Yet she chose to be a manipulative, lying bitch. At least she wasn’t using a nice guy. If anyone deserved to be fucked over by a woman, it was Jameson.
“Just keep talking, kitty,” Thatcher said to her. “I’m getting harder by the second.”
Rolling my eyes, I jerked my gaze off her. He wasn’t wrong. The hard, ruthless shit, coming from someone who looked like every sin I ever wanted to commit, was hot. Even if it was twisted.
“Get an Uber,” I snapped. “He won’t be driving tonight.”
“Or you can wait on me,” Thatcher offered, which was so unlike him that I had to stare at him to see if he was serious.
He winked at her. He fucking winked. “I don’t pay to fuck, but for you, I’d make an exception.”
I winced, cutting my eyes back to Briar.
Her gaze narrowed, and the anger that lit up those ocean-blue eyes didn’t surprise me. She might use wealthy men for what they could give her, but flat-out being labeled a prostitute wasn’t something she was gonna be okay with. Why was it that gold diggers didn’t realize it was the same fucking thing?
“I’ll have to pass on that offer, sugar,” she replied with a thick Southern accent, making that last word sound as sarcastic as she meant it to be. “I prefer my men on the right side of the law and mentally stable.”
He chuckled as if enjoying this entire conversation. “Sweetheart, the law is always on our side, and mentally stable is overrated.”
She cocked one eyebrow at him. “Perhaps, but the dark, twisted shit in your eyes isn’t something I’m drawn to. I prefer the”—she paused, her eyes shifting to me—“sexy ones with a smile you can trust. I’ve had my fill of darkness.”
Was that a proposition?
“Don’t let his face fool you. I’ve seen him slice off a man’s dick and shove it in his mouth until he suffocated on it,” Thatcher said with a sadistic laugh.
She didn’t flinch as she continued looking at me. A small lift of her shoulders, and she glanced back at Thatcher. “And I’d bet my life that the man deserved it.”
Ah fuck. Don’t do that. Don’t make me like you.
Tearing my eyes off her, I looked toward Stellan just as he reached for the Glock hidden beneath the tux jacket he was wearing. Shit! I moved past Briar, taking out my own gun as I quickly assessed Stellan’s reason for making this public.
Thatcher was opposite me, walking with his normal unaffected swagger as he grinned that unhinged, amused one he always had when things were about to go south. He lived for this shit. If he got to kill someone, he’d be happy. Especially if he got to use the knife in his left boot instead of his M220 that he favored if he had to use a gun.
“Seems our friend here has an issue with us,” Stellan said loud enough for us to hear him. “Why don’t you boys take him for a little reminder?”
Jameson’s hand was on the butt of his gun, but he’d not pulled it out yet.
Thatcher came up behind him. “Pull it out,” he said, leaning in close to him. “I dare you.”
The shudder than ran through Jameson as he paled even further would be entertaining if I wasn’t fighting the urge to look back and make sure Briar had gotten out of the way. She wasn’t my problem, and she’d asked for this shit, messing with a man like Jameson.
“I said I’d have it to you next week,” he stuttered, his eyes swinging from Stellan to me.
Stellan tilted his head slightly to the left. “Did I say you could speak?”
The other guests were leaving. I saw them exiting as quickly as they could. Hopefully, they all cleared out so we could get this handled nice and tidy.
“The crazy one is gonna kill him, isn’t he?” Briar’s voice was too close.
What the fuck was she doing? Why hadn’t she left, like a sane person?
I tensed, but didn’t take my eyes off Jameson.
“You need to leave,” I said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not moving. There are too many guns drawn.”
“No one is going to shoot you,” I replied, annoyed. “Everyone else is leaving. Go with the crowd.”
She sighed. “Listen, handsome. I know you don’t like me. I can see it in your eyes. So, excuse me if I don’t trust you to protect me.”
This woman. Seriously? I didn’t have time for this. My focus had to stay on the scene in front of me. If she wanted to stay here and put herself in danger, then it wasn’t my problem. I’d warned her.
“I have my gun,” she said, still too fucking close to me.
“You’d be dead before you could pull it out of that ridiculous, shiny purse of yours if someone decided to take you out.”
She let out a soft laugh that went directly to my cock. Dammit.
“Do you underestimate all women?” she asked.
Jameson’s eyes swung over in my direction again, and I saw the jealous flicker in them as he took in Briar’s close proximity to me. He thought she was working with us. I only had time to read his expression before his hand tightened its grip on the gun. He pulled it out with more speed than I’d expected. Fortunately, I was still faster.
Turning, I wrapped an arm around the frustrating woman behind me and took her down to the floor with me as the gunshot rang out, flying over our heads. I recognized the silenced shot that came next and the thump of the body that followed. I knew they hadn’t killed Jameson, but Thatcher had put him down. We would get our money, and then he’d die.
Running my hands over Briar’s body, I tensed the moment I saw the blood oozing from the silky fabric on her shoulder. Motherfucker. Sitting up, I moved the dress back gently to see how bad the damage was.
“He shot me,” she whispered. The shock in her tone was better than her being hysterical.
“Grazed you,” I corrected, feeling relief. “You’re gonna be fine.”
She let out a long, steady breath. “You’re sure? It hurts like hell.”
I nodded. “Positive,” I replied, pulling my shirttail from my pants and ripping a long strip from the expensive shirt, then taking it to wrap around her wound to help stop the bleeding.
“Get her to Maeme’s,” Stellan ordered as he walked up behind me. “Have Drew check her out.”
Standing up, I turned to see what had taken place behind me. Thatcher and Jameson were already gone. The party had cleared out. Guns would do that. Everyone had run but Briar. She was stupid or fucking stubborn. Perhaps both.