The realization that she’s actually serious hits me like a bucket of ice water. Up until now, I thought she was just blowing off steam from her anger. “Is it money?” I frown, trying to hide the wave of alarm that’s starting to rise to the surface in my mind. “It’s been a while since you had a raise, right? Look, we can talk about that…”
“No. That’s not it.”
“You sure?” I push. “You needin’ more space, with Jude stayin’ with you? You lookin’ for a new apartment, or…”
“Angel,” she cuts me off. “It’s not about the money. Really.”
I step toward the desk and sit down on top of it, at a loss. I can’t imagine Jewel leaving. “I thought you liked it here,” I mutter after a pause. “You’re part of the family.”
Jewel lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I don’t have any family. All I have is Jude. And he barely tolerates me. There’s nothing holding me here.” Jewel looks me in the eye, her baby blues clear and shining. “You’ll find another bartender, Angel. In the meantime, I can teach the prospects to fill in.” She shrugs and stands up. “I’m not irreplaceable, after all.”
Yes, you are, my brain responds. You are.
But I don’t say it, because suddenly I’m a goddamn pussy.
Jewel walks to the door, and pauses in the doorway. “By the way,” she murmurs. “Were you behind Hawk hiring Jude to help out at Twisted Pipes?”
I can’t think of any reason not to tell the truth. “Yeah,” I reply.
Jewel nods. “Thank you,” she says quietly. “That was really nice of you.”
Then she’s gone.
I slide into my chair in frustration, and just stop myself from grabbing the laptop in front of me and throwing it across the room. I can’t figure out how the conversation got away from me like this.
I don’t know what I was bringing Jewel in here to do or say. But that shit was not it.
I pull out a cigarette, and put it in my mouth to light it.
Then I stop and angrily toss it away, swearing.
Fuck it. She’s just a goddamn bartender. Why the hell do I care so much? She’s right. Replacing her shouldn’t be that hard.
But thinkin’ about never seeing her again…
It’s fucked up.
Hell, Jewel has been here almost as long as I have.
I’ve been fightin’ my feelings for her almost that long, too.
Maybe it’s better this way. Out of sight, out of mind.
Except even as I say the words in my head, I know they ain’t true. If she wasn’t here, I’d just be thinking about her more. Wonderin’ where she is. What she’s doing. What piece of shit is tryin’ to fuck her.
Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how did Jewel get in my head so deep?
Outside, the men are getting louder and rowdier as an epic party gets started. I don’t leave my office. I pull out another cigarette, lighting it up this time, and hold it between my fingers until the ash burns down to the nub. My fuckin’ brain is in overdrive as I argue back and forth with myself. Hours pass, I’m pretty sure, and when I finally stand up it’s late and almost the end of Jewel’s shift.
If she’s even still there.
Out in the main room, a familiar scene greets me. A party that’s bound to last long into the night is in full swing. Club girls hang on my brothers; off in the shadows, one of them is getting a blow job. Another is fucking a loud redhead over a table.
Behind the bar, Thorn is grabbing himself a beer. “Where’s Jewel?” I ask him.
“She just left,” he calls, lifting a chin. “Not two minutes ago.”
I push through the men and crash out the door. Outside, Jewel is standing in a pool of light, her cell phone against her ear, one arm wrapped around her chest. When she looks over and sees me, she turns away and shows me her back.
“Jewel!” It’s only now I realize how glad I am she stayed until the end of her shift. “You callin’ Jude to pick you up?”
She slowly turns and reluctantly meets my eyes. “Yes… but he’s not answering,” she admits. “I’m just gonna call…”
“I’ll take you.”
“No, Angel.”
“Yes. I need to talk to you.” What the fuck? The words slip out before I can stop them. I don’t have any idea what I’m gonna say to her. All I know is, I don’t want to leave things the way they are right now.
“I’m not changing my mind about quitting, Angel.”
“Fine. But I’m still driving you home.”
“Dammit!” Jewel whirls on me, her eyes flashing fire in the moonlight. “You don’t control me, Angel, for the last time! I’m your employee, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m your slave! And I won’t be anything to you much longer! So you can just cut this shit with your big ‘you do what I say’ act, because you know what? I don’t do what you say! I do what I want to do, whether you like it or not!”
Jewel stops, breasts heaving, and glares at me. She squares her body like she’s preparing for a fight. I’m sure she has no idea how fucking sexy she looks. But my cock could tell her.
Part of me considers lifting her up, tossing her over my shoulder, and carrying her up to my apartment.
But, I realize, I actually do want to talk to her. Someplace away from here. Someplace where we can stop being boss and fucking employee for a little bit.
“Jewel,” I say, as gently as I can. “Let me drive you home.”
She blinks a couple of times. Her lower lip catches between her teeth. I resist the urge to say anymore, waiting.
“Okay,” she relents.
21
Jewel
“What, on the bike?”
I stop in my tracks as Angel heads for the row of Harleys parked at the dark edge of the clubhouse lot.
He turns his head back to me. One corner of his mouth lifts in a half-grin. “What the hell did you think?” he asks.
I open my mouth to say no, but before I can, he’s taken my hand in his. His hand is large and warm, and the unexpected contact sends an instantaneous thrill through me. With a gentle tug, he pulls me toward him. For a second, I’m sure he’s pulling me into his arms. Instead of resisting, I feel my traitorous body almost literally melt. Everything starts to move in slow motion. My breathing hitches, my lips parting in anticipation…
And then all of a sudden, everything speeds back up as I realize he’s only leading me purposefully through the darkness toward his own bike.
I almost stumble. Angel looks briefly back at me. “You good?” he asks, then continues on without waiting for an answer. Which I couldn’t give him anyway because suddenly I’m furious — a little bit at him but mostly at myself. I can’t believe how instantly I just gave in to him at the first touch! And even worse, he wasn’t even trying to get me to give in — he was just helping me through the dark.
You idiot! You pathetic, loser, freaking idiot!
I almost open my mouth to tell Angel I’ve changed my mind, but then snap it shut again because the only thing worse right now would be for Angel to know how discombobulated I am right now just by the touch of his hand. No, the best thing I can do is to just accept the ride, pretend I’m completely unaffected, and then once I get home go upstairs, lock the door, and swear to myself I will never, ever do something this stupid again.
Yeah. That’s gonna work. Because the next thing that happens is, Angel slides one leg over his bike, and motions for me to get on the back.
Big mistake.
I climb awkwardly onto the seat behind him, struggling with the short black skirt that composes the lower half of my work uniform. Underneath which, the only thing protecting me is a pair of underpants that have never felt thinner or less substantial. Swallowing nervously, I put my feet on the pegs and try to figure out whether there’s something other than Angel I can hold onto, but then he starts the engine and gooses the throttle, and with a little squeak I put my hands on his waist and brace myself.
Thus begin the most torture-filled ten minutes of my life.
It turns out, when all there is between your lady parts and him is a thin little piece of cotton fabric, that cotton fabric gets soaked within a matter of seconds.
It turns out, sliding your arms around the tight, rippling muscles of his waist makes your nipples hard as diamonds.
By the time we get to my apartment building, I’m shaking like a leaf. My skin is on fire, even though it’s fall and the outside air is chilly. As I wait for him to stop the bike, I tell myself there’s no way he won’t notice how aroused I am. In my haste to get off the seat, my shoe catches on something and I start to stumble, but Angel’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm before I can fall very far.
“Whoa, there,” he rumbles. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I choke, and struggle to right myself. Angel waits patiently until I’m on my feet, then gently lets go of my bicep.
“Well, thanks for…” I begin, but Angel is setting the bike on its kickstand and standing up. “I mean, I’m gonna…”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he says, and he sounds so reasonable I’d feel like a jerk for refusing. I hug my arms protectively across my chest, mostly to control my shaking, and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other — and not on the fact that the sexiest man I’ve ever known is walking right beside me, the scent of his skin still on mine.
I start rehearsing some sort of quick goodbye I can blurt out at the front door, when my eyes flick up instinctively to the window of my second-floor apartment. Frowning at what I see, I do a double take, and then stop walking as I glance over at the parking lot.
“That’s…” I mumble to myself, and stop.
Angel, who’s two steps ahead of me, stops. “Something wrong?”
I hesitate, frowning. “I’m not sure.”
Angel comes back to my side, and follows my gaze back to the window. “What are you looking at?”
“That’s my apartment,” I say, pointing. “There’s something… off here. For one thing, the lights are on, but Jude has my car, and it isn’t in the parking lot.”
“Huh. You sure you didn’t just leave your lights on?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I shake my head. “Not that one, at least. See, it’s the ceiling light in the living room. I hate that light, because it’s really sterile. I never turn it on. But there’s a floor lamp, that you can see from that window. That’s what I usually use instead.”
“I don’t see a floor lamp.” Angel’s brow furrows.
“I know. Neither do I. That’s what’s weird.”
Angel pulls his eyes from the window and looks at me. “Could Jude have parked somewhere else?”
“Maybe, but…” I look back toward the street. “I don’t see the car anywhere.” I take out my phone to text my brother, but he still hasn’t answered my last one, or my phone call.
“Look, it’s probably nothing,” Angel mutters. “But I’m gonna come inside with you, just in case.”
I’d like to refuse. Having Angel close to me for any longer than necessary really isn’t a good idea. But the fact is, I’m just a tiny bit spooked. I tell myself I’ll let him look around, to make sure everything’s fine. Then I’ll let him know in no uncertain terms that I’m not up for a conversation about my employment, and that my decision is final.
In any case, he isn’t waiting around for my answer. In seconds he’s at the front door, waiting for me to open it with my key. Angel has never been to my place, so he follows me up the stairs until we get to my floor. As walk into the hallway, I make a little noise of alarm in my throat.
“What is it?”
“That’s my door,” I point.
It’s hanging open on its hinges. The wood is dented, as though someone has kicked it in, and the jamb is splintered by the knob.
Angel goes in first, silently motioning with a hand for me to stay outside in the hallway. I watch in apprehension as he disappears around a corner, and I have to force down the cry in my throat. My body is rigid with fright as I wait for a noise — any noise — that will tell me there’s someone inside. Reaching for my back pocket, my shaking fingers close around my phone as I prepare to call one of the other Lords in case something bad happens.
The first sound I hear doesn’t make any sense: a low moan that sounds like it’s coming from a woman.
“Jewel!” Angel barks. “Come here!”
Slipping through the doorway, I head for his voice and find Angel in the living room, crouched over a prone figure.
“Olga!” I cry, rushing to them. “Are you okay?”
My neighbor moans again and pushes herself up on her elbow, trying to sit up.
“There’s no one else here,” Angel tells me, glancing around. “Looks like you’ve been robbed.”
“Olga.” I help her into a sitting position. She grimaces in pain and holds a hand to the back of her head. “What happened?”
“Young punks broke into your apartment.” She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them and looks at me. “Your brother’s friend was with them. I heard the noise, I came here to tell them be quiet. I thought they were here to play loud music. When I saw they had broken your door, they pulled me inside and hit me.”
“Olga, my gosh! How badly are you hurt?” I lean around her, trying to see if she’s bleeding. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No, no. No hospital. I am okay.” She shakes her head, then winces. I start to argue with her, but Angel silences me with a frown. Instead, I stand and go to the freezer to get her a bag of frozen vegetables to ease the pain and swelling on her head. She accepts it gratefully and lets us help her move to the couch.
When she’s settled, I look around the room for the first time. Angel’s right: I’ve been robbed. I don’t have a lot of expensive stuff, but it’s clear in an instant that my TV is gone, as well as all the other devices that were hooked up to it. The floor lamp that’s usually visible from the front sidewalk is lying on the ground. A quick check of my bedroom shows they got my laptop, too, and my tablet. The stash of money I keep in an empty can in my kitchen cupboard is still there, though.
“Dammit!” I seethe when I come back into the living room. “I don’t even know that kid’s name! He wouldn’t tell me!”
“Jude will, though.”
I glance over at Angel, suddenly stricken. “You don’t think he was involved in this, do you?” I whisper.
Angel shrugs, but his jaw is tense. “Hard to say. Though Jude has a key, right? So if he was, he was at least smart enough to have his buddies make it look like a regular break-in. Too bad for them Olga was here.”
At his words, I realize Jude’s friend might have recognized Olga. She could have been killed. Would Jude’s friend have gone that far?
“Why do you think they did this?” I murmur, stunned at the thought.
Angel shrugs again. “Drug money, maybe. Or just for fun. Or, I suppose if Jude isn’t hanging with them anymore, maybe revenge?”
Olga still refuses to go to the hospital, so after a few minutes, I help her back to apartment. I thank her profusely and apologize again, and make her promise to call me if she needs anything at all. When I get back, I try phoning Jude again, but he still isn’t answering.
“Dammit, Jude,” I mutter. I turn to Angel. “He was supposed to be out with the prospects tonight. That’s why he has my car.”
“I’ll call Beast and have him track them down.” Angel places a quick call while I examine the front door. The lock is broken, and the area around it on the jamb is splintered. It looks to me like the whole thing will have to be replaced.
Angel comes up behind me. “You’re not staying here tonight, Jewel. I’ll take you back to my place, or back to the clubhouse.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine, Angel. They’ve already been here and taken what they wanted. There’s no reason they would come back.” I reach u
p and finger the chain lock. “Look, I’ll just use this, and push a table in front of the door or something to shut it. I’ll call tomorrow to get the door repaired.”
“Like hell you will.”
“Angel…” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“This ain’t a request, darlin’,” he rumbles.
My heart starts to thump in my chest. Partly because I’m mad at him for thinking he can just tell me what to do like this. But partly because now that the initial shock of the break-in is over, I’m uncomfortably aware that we are all alone in here. And I need to get away from him before I start acting like a fool again and start making poor life decisions.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Angel,” I retort, feeling my face grow hotter. “You might still be my boss for a little bit, but we’re not at the clubhouse. I’m on my own time. And I say, I’m staying here tonight!”
“Okay, then.” Angel moves to the door, and I let out a little sigh of relief. But instead of walking through it, he closes it, and attaches the chain. “If you’re stayin’ here, I’m stayin’ here.”
“But…”
“This ain’t a boss thing, Jewel. I’m not leavin’ you here tonight. You can do what you want, but that’s non-negotiable.”
I watch helplessly as he grabs a straight-backed chair next to the empty TV stand and wedges it under the doorknob. My head starts to buzz with nerves. I’m trying to think of something — anything — to say that will change his mind.
“But… The couch isn’t long enough for you to sleep on!” I blurt out in desperation.
“Well, now,” Angel says huskily. He reaches out and pulls me close. “That is a problem. Maybe there’s somethin’ we can do about that.”
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