Chapter 11 Jade
Aman cuts through the crowd, headed right toward us, the people around him parting as they avert their gaze.
That kind of power isn’t common in this city and is even less common for someone who isn’t a member of Vengeance.
I’ve seen it a few times with the guys and Kratos, but the man approaching isn’t part of Vengeance. He couldn’t be further from it.
Randall looks like he’s dressed for a meeting with the press instead of just a night out at the club. Everything about the man screams money, from his watch down to his shoes. I don’t need to know name brands to know he wears only the best that money can buy.
How could I not know? I’ve been on his arm more times than I can count because I had been the best money could buy.
What the fuck he’s doing here, I don’t know, but I seriously doubt it’s a good thing.
He stops in front of Jake without so much as glancing at me, but even without his eyes on me, I have to fight the urge to shrink back.
Everything in me is telling me to get away, slip into the crowd, find Hazel and get the fuck out of here.
But I don’t dare risk drawing attention to myself when he seems to be oblivious to me.
“Father.” Jake’s voice is clipped, but his tone is respectful in a way I know Randall demands. He won’t stand for anything less than the respect he seems to think everyone around him owes him, and apparently, that even extends to his own son.
His fucking son!
How I didn’t see the resemblance before it was right in front of me is beyond me.
But now that it is, I can see that there is no question about it.
They both have the same dark skin that makes them look sun-kissed, though I know Randall spends most of his time in offices.
Their eyes are the same dark brown that matches their hair, and though they style it differently and the way they dress isn't exactly the same, they both have the same overall styled, dressed-up appearance.
It was harder to see his similarity to his twin. While they share no similar coloring, they look alike in the way their noses slope, their high cheekbones, and full lips with prominent cupid bows. Randall does not share most of those features, and I imagine they inherited them from their mother.
Something about Jake set off my inner alarms the moment I saw him, and now I wonder if it had more to do with his resemblance to his father than it did with him. Not that it matters. After tonight, I’ll be sure to stay away from both of them.
“Jacob. My meetings for the night are finished, so I will be flying out for the week.” Randall’s deep voice is exactly the same as I remember it, and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop the shudder that works its way down my spine even though he isn’t speaking to me.
Jake’s hand tightens around my wrist. I hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto me until this moment. I should pull away. Instead, I let myself take comfort in his presence because I need it, and I don’t really care where it comes from with Randall here.
Jake nods without missing a beat, even with his attention clearly split between us.
“I expect you to keep everything running smoothly. I will be back next Friday and expect both you and your sister home for dinner on Saturday night.” He’s not asking, but I’m not surprised. Randall doesn’t ask for anything; he just makes demands.
“Yes, father.”
Randall gives Jake a nod of his own before he turns away, apparently having said what he needed to.
I take a deep breath and almost sigh in relief. Unfortunately for me, he stops just a few steps away and turns back to face us again.
“And do try to refrain from making waves in the press. Dancing with common whores at the club on a Friday night is above—.” He doesn’t finish his sentence when his gaze finally falls on me.
His eyes widen just the slightest bit as he looks me over.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything render Randall speechless before, but I don’t even get to enjoy the feeling of knowing I’m the cause.
I refuse to cower. Instead, I square my shoulders and raise my chin as his eyes move back up to meet mine once again. His bored businessman’s expression morphs into a smile worthy of a movie villain as he walks back up to us with newfound interest.
“Jacob, I apologize. It appears I made the wrong assumption about how you have been occupying your time. Please see to it that Jade joins us for dinner on Saturday night.” His words are for Jake, but he has yet to look away from me.
Moving into my space, he reaches up, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind my ear.
The gesture would look gentle to anyone who watched from the outside, anyone who didn't know him. But I know Randall, and the dark, lustful look in his eyes tells me it’s anything but.
“Father, I’m not sure I can do that,” Jake tells him, and I can hear the uncertainty in his tone. I don’t know if it’s from having to tell him he can’t do something or from the confusion I’m sure he’s feeling right now about all of this, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Randall's head snaps toward Jake, his smile gone in an instant, his fingers slowly trailing through my hair.
Fuck, I might not like Jake, but I hate Randall, and I hate to see him make others cower around him.
Hate the way he makes me want to cower.
“What was that? I must have misheard you, Jacob.” The warning in his tone is clear. He will not be taking no for an answer.
Instead, he turns back to face me, clearly done with his son.
“I’ll have a car pick you up from the Sharp house at five.
It will be just like old times.” His smile is wicked once again and has me itching to grab my knife out of my boot.
I desperately want to do or say something, even if I can’t outright stab him the way I wish I could.
Instead, I stand frozen, hating myself for it.
I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves because I know I have to do something. The longer this conversation goes on, the more eyes I can feel on us. The last thing I need tonight is to cause a scene with the mayor in a club run by a gang that I somehow lead.
I inhale the scent of tobacco, cloves, and leather, and it soothes something inside me. I know that scent and who it’s attached to, and right now, it means safety.
So when a body presses up behind me a moment before a strong arm wraps around my center, pulling me back against him and away from Randall’s lingering fingers–I all but melt into it.
“Demon.” Spencer's deep voice rumbles in my ear, alerting me unnecessarily to his presence.
Had you asked me ten minutes ago if I would have been happy to see Spencer here tonight, my answer would have been, fuck no! Now I find myself not only happy but grateful.
Fuck, this entire night is nothing like I thought it would be.
“I think you heard him correctly the first time, Mayor Ross,” Spencer says, and I swear I could almost kiss him when his voice keeps its usual cool, detached tone that I can see gets right under Randall’s skin.
To his credit, Randall recovers much quicker than I thought possible.
“Spencer, I apologize, son. I didn’t see you there. I was just extending an invitation to Jade for her to join us for our weekly Saturday dinner.” He says, dropping his hand to adjust his suit as if Spencer didn’t just pull me from him.
“As the mayor, I want to show the city that we are taking care of the girls she rescued and acknowledging Jade for all the work she put in to keep those poor girls safe,” he explains to Spencer.
Sure, okay, we can pretend like that’s not a heaping pile of shit. I don’t think he’s fooling any of us, but I’m sure the press would eat that shit up.
Spencer doesn’t drop his arm from around me, instead holding me to him while he talks over my head. “Unfortunately, Jade is busy on Saturday. She has a study group, and with how much schooling she’s missed, she really can’t afford to miss out.”
Usually, that kind of comment would have me ready to fight him, but he isn’t wrong, and for once, he doesn’t have the same venom he usually has when talking to or about me.
Right now, he could say I was going to have a case of the shits that day, and I would still be grateful.
Anything to keep me out of his fucking house and away from him.
“Ah, yes. We can’t have her missing out on her education now that she has endless possibilities.” He nods as if he’s in total agreement, but I can see the tick in his jaw that lets me know how he really feels about being called out.
“No worries. I’m sure we can find time to make sure you and the other girls are settling in. I’ll talk to Clair about when I can best steal some of your time once I return to the office next week, Jade,” he says, returning his attention to me.
I open my mouth to respond, but I have nothing to combat the way Spencer just did. I really would like to tell him to go to hell.
“Clair won’t be of any assistance to you. Though if you’d like, I’ll let Rick know you want to have us by for dinner.” Spencer's tone doesn’t change, but the implication that Rick is the one in charge is easy enough to pick up on.
Randall doesn’t miss it.
“Why would Rick have any say in anything to do with her?” He asks, dropping the pleasantries he’s been using until now. A feat that's not easily accomplished, though if anyone could push Randall to it, I have no doubt it would be him. Spencer could make a nun curse the Lord.
“Well, considering Jade is living with us, I just figured it would be easiest to schedule with him. You know how much Rick likes to plan, and with school and Jade’s extracurriculars, he would be the best one to ask.” The challenge is clear, letting me know he’s not letting Randall win this.
His words strike a nerve, just like I’m sure Spencer intended. Randall's eyes harden, and his jaw clenches in a way that lets me know he’s growing more upset by the second. He looks from me to Spencer and back again.
“Of course,” he bites out the words, his voice full of venom as we get a look at who Randall is, the Randall I’m used to.
He pulls his gaze away from me and glances around, as if finally remembering he has an audience. Clearing his throat, he stands tall once again. “I’ll be in touch,” he says to nobody in particular before he turns and stalks away through the crowd of people who are more than happy to move aside.
The moment he's out of sight, my body sags, and I release a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
Spencer’s arm squeezes me against him, and instead of pulling away, I take comfort in it.
“You’ve either been heavily drinking tonight, or we need to have a chat about Randall, Little Demon.” His voice is low and has a rasp to it that sends my stomach into a flutter.
Before I can think about why that is, Jake is in my face, and I feel Spencer move to pull me away from him. This time I push out of his arms, and while he puts up a bit of a struggle, he eventually relents.
“Go find Hazel so we can leave. I’ll be right behind you.” I tell him over my shoulder without bothering to see if he listens. I feel his eyes on me for a moment longer, and I almost think he’s going to fight me, but he shocks me yet again by going.
Weird.
I turn my attention back to Jake, who stands right in front of me, his eyes searching my face as if he’s seeing me for the first time.
“Why does my father know you, Jade?”
It’s not at all what I expected to come out of his mouth. I expected him to be upset, angry that I made him look bad in front of Randall, but all I see on his face is concern. I open my mouth, but I can’t make the words come out.
I don’t need to, though. I can tell by the look on his face that he knows exactly what it means for his father to know me.
With a groan, he steps back away from me, running a hand over his face in frustration.
“Fuck Jade.” He shouts, but the music drowns it out.
I haven’t made a habit of being around Jake, but from the little I have seen of him, I assume this isn’t usual behavior. He seems like the type of guy who always has his shit together, and whether that’s to save face or because that’s what’s expected of him, that mask is slipping right now.
A quick glance around lets me know people are taking notice. He stands just a few feet from me, his hand in his hair as he tugs it in frustration, messing up the perfectly styled look he had just moments ago.
Closing the distance between us, I tentatively rest my hand on his arm, gently tugging it until he drops it.
His eyes snap to me, and the pure rage I see burning in them speaks to me.
I’ve been where he is so many times I've lost count. Anyone else would probably worry if someone looked at them the way he is looking at me. Honestly, to anyone else, it probably looks like he’s about to murder me where I stand.
But I know better. This anger has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Randall.
“Not here,” I tell him, my voice low but clear so that only he can hear me.
The moment he registers my words, it’s like a switch flips. He brushes his hair back so it lies flatter. Though it’s not as perfect as it was before, it’s not as noticeable that he was just losing his shit on it, either. He stands tall and brushes off his shirt before giving me a nod.
“This conversation isn’t over,” he hisses before he brushes past me and disappears into the crowd.
He’s wrong though. This conversation is very much over, both with him and Spencer.
The feeling of eyes on me makes me turn. It’s easy to spot Spencer across the club where he stands with Hazel and Leo, his phone pressed to his ear, his brows dipped in anger as he argues with whoever he’s talking to.
The ride home is going to be a fucking nightmare.