Why wasn’t drool drying at the corner of his mouth? It wasn’t right. Was there nothing the man did that didn’t turn her on?
No. Even watching him sleep made her release a deep sigh. She felt like a lovesick idiot.
A car door slammed nearby, jerking her out of the trance. She blinked to clear her mind of lustful thoughts about her husband.
She sighed again. Husband? Who would’ve thought?
In an attempt to salvage part of the day, she replayed her conversation with Walter, her second-in-command, during breakfast. He’d called to tell her one of Mac’s restaurant managers had been skimming off the blackjack game in the back room. If she allowed one person to skim, others would quickly follow. She had a love/hate attitude about this part of her job. She hated hurting people. She loved punishing those who deserved it.
The county seat of Sand City had only one bar, six restaurants, and twelve churches. Southerns loved to eat and pray. The Catfish Fry, a family owned eatery, was managed by the grandson of the original owner. Bud Vinnie the third, called Trey to keep confusion down, was a self-involved little snit.
She pushed open the glass door and stepped inside. Her outfit for the day was her usual ankle-length leather coat and four-inch heeled, multi-buckle motorcycle boots, pushing her height to over six feet. Out of respect for Jake’s wishes, she wore a red T-shirt with her black jeans, instead of a corset. She’d even reduced the amount of pale makeup, though she continued with the smoky eyes and black lipstick. She had an image to uphold. People wouldn’t mess with someone if they looked different from the norm.
The stench of burnt oil and fish turned her stomach. Maybe she should have told Jake about the trouble with Trey. Then again, she’d been handling situations similar to this on her own for a while.
“Hey there, doll!”
At five-foot-eight with rusty-brown hair slicked back from his face, he acted and sounded more like a fifty-year-old man than his thirty-plus years.
Angel narrowed her eyes when he gave her a once-over. She wanted this trip concluded as quickly as possible. So she ignored his ogle and nodded for him to follow her as she walked toward the kitchen. The game was always set up in a large storeroom at the back corner. She stopped outside the door and lifted her chin to the man near the door. The guard was Walter’s cousin and could easily pass as a brother in size and temperament.
She turned her back to the loyal Tally man and crossed her arms, staring down at Trey. His usual smirk irritated her, but she was used to it. The man had an ego the size of Walter’s cousin.
Not wanting to put up with any more of Trey’s leers, she got to the point.
“I’ve been informed your earnings are down.” A person never talked straight about anything illegal in a public setting. She regarded any place not her home—actually Jake’s—or her office to be public. Why take a chance of someone overhearing and feeding information to the police?
Trey understood what she meant.
He pulled his head back. “Are you accusing me of something?”
She watched him for a few minutes. She knew he was lying. He knew she was aware of it, but she wanted him to stew for a little bit. Her gaze didn’t waver.
His squinty eyes darted away and he cleared his throat.
“With the death of your grandfather, may his soul rest in peace, a lot of people were afraid that the Whitfields would take over the games.” He glanced down at the row of diamonds on her hand. “It looks as if someone did.”
She stepped closer while she eased a knife from her coat pocket.
“You have another slow night, and I’ll have to introduce you to my friend, butterfly,” she warned.
Trey proved how stupid he was when one corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
“My name isn’t Trey just because I’m the third in line of owning this dump. I do relish threesomes. I’ve always wanted to climb the luscious tree of Angel Tally,” he said as he reached up to touch her hair, “and you’re more than welcome to bring your little friend. Does she like black leather, too?”
In a flash, she grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and slammed him into the wall. A clicking sound warned of danger before the cold steel of her butterfly knife touched his throat. Walter had alerted her about Trey needing visuals to make a lasting impression. Merely talking to him wouldn’t do at all.
“So you want my little friend to kiss your neck. I need to warn you that she’s like a vampire and loves blood. Oops. See. She’s thirsty for a taste.” Blood trickled down to his collarbone and soaked into his shirt. “Listen to me carefully. No more skimming unless it’s the fry oil, understand?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. More blood seeped from the thin line.
“Yes,” he whispered, trying not to move.
“Good.” She lifted her knife and stepped back. “I knew we’d understand each other, and I didn’t need to talk with your dad.” After wiping the blood from the blade onto his shirt, she flashed the knife in his face as she clicked it closed with a twist of her wrist.
All the color leached out of his face. Trey didn’t want his dad involved. Bud Junior was less of a pleasant man than his son.
“Yeah, yeah. Totally a misunderstanding on my part.” He said each word as if he couldn’t catch his breath.
The numbness she always experienced while working started to fade away. A queasy feeling jumbled her thoughts. She reached out to the counter to regain her balance. Her hand landed on a towel. To cover the weakness, she grabbed up the cloth and tossed it to Trey.
Then she walked out.
“Hey, Angel.”
She closed the car door behind her and turned to smile at her brother. Damien trotted over and gave her a bear hug. When would she get used to seeing him so tall? He not only looked at her eye-to-eye, but may be an inch taller. As Mac and their dad had been over six feet tall, she expected he wasn’t finished growing.
“Had fun?” She swiped at the green and blue paint smeared on one ear lobe and several strands of his hair.
“Hell, yeah.”
“Damien,” she warned.
“Sorry, sorry. Tick and I took some paint guns out onto this massive field—you have to see it. It’s part of their property. There are bales of hay and wood cutouts set up in different places. They even have a couple buildings. Tick said they use the area to practice shooting, and the rest of the time playing with paintball guns. It was so awesome! I won. Tick said I was a natural. That I have a great eye. He promised to show me how to fire a real gun.”
She disliked the last idea. Instead of arguing with her brother, she decided to wait and speak with Tick.
“Jimmie Sue said she’ll take you to buy some clothes for this summer and a couple things for school this afternoon,” she said. All of their clothes and a few personal items had been moved to the Whitfield’s house some days ago.
“Can’t Tick take me?”
“Do you really want Tick helping you pick out your clothes?” The man wore a tie with everything, including plaid shirts. It was crazy.
“I guess not. But I wanted to check out the arcade at the mall, and I thought—”
She held up her hand, shaking her head. “You know that Tick isn’t your play buddy? He’s one of Jake’s guards.”
“Yeah, I know, but he’s a friend, too. We have a lot in common.”
“How about calling one or two of your friends from school and see if they want to play video games or do paintball later?”
Her brother squinted at her. “You hate Tick.”
The sadness on his face almost had her giving in. He was really such a good kid. “You know that’s not true. You need to play with kids your age. Someone who doesn’t carry a gun.”
“You carry a gun.”
“Not all the time, but we’re not talking about me.” She felt as if she was about to lose the argument if she didn’t think of something fast. So she suggested a couple of names and finally Damien agreed.
They walked into the kitchen
laughing as Damien recounted how he shot Tick so many times on his butt, he looked to have a multi-colored target painted on it. When Angel saw who sat in the room with Jimmie Sue, she hesitated.
“You got here just in time, Damien. I’ve saved you a few of my homemade chocolate chip cookies.” Jimmie Sue uncovered a plate and revealed a half dozen. “Before you say anything, Angel, that boy is about to have a growth spurt. He’s eating like a bear before hibernation. So it shouldn't ruin his supper.”
Angel suspected Jimmie Sue loved mothering them. The housekeeper was so kind and considerate, going out of her way to prepare vegan meals for Angel and keeping up with a teenager. In an effort to show her appreciation, Angel let her have free rein in feeding her brother. Most of the time. His sweet tooth often got out of hand. Really, he needed fruits more than refined sugars.
“A growing boy needs a well-balanced meal and that includes meat.” Lydia sat straight at the table and eyed Angel as if she’d rolled in the mud. “You’ll understand when you have your own children.”
Angel gritted her teeth. Though the woman had given birth to Jake, Angel had paid attention to the few childhood stories he’d shared. His mom played no part in how Jake was brought up. Of course, it wasn’t Lydia’s fault Dick Whitfield had been an asshole and restricted her custody, but Angel felt if it had been her kid, she would’ve found a way to be involved big time.
“I’ve left it up to Damien to decide if he wants to be vegan or not. Jimmie Sue does a good job making sure he has a well-balanced diet.” In no way would it pay to attack the woman. Jake was very protective of his mom. She admired him for it, and she’d rather not test whose side he would align with. Coming up with the short stick was a common enough occurrence in Angel’s past that she didn’t expect it to be any different now.
Lydia looked up and down the length of Angel. “While Jimmie Sue takes Damien shopping, I’ll take you to some of my shops. Time for you to dress as a Whitfield.”
Again, Angel gritted her teeth, certain the back ones would crack at any minute. Considering old man Whitfield never married Lydia, she couldn’t be the example to follow to dress as a Whitfield.
“Thank you, Lydia, but I—”
“We have business to attend this weekend, Mom. You’ll have to plan it another time.” Jake walked in from the hallway and leaned down and hugged his mom before going over to Jimmie Sue to fold her into his arms and squeeze. “We’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”
Darting an appreciative look his way, Angel blushed with the memory of how Jake looked asleep and naked. Funny that the thought of their having sex didn’t embarrass her. Why should it? The last three nights, he’d been late coming home, even later than her. Too many people demanding their attention. He’d woken her up and tenderly stroked to a fever pitch and made love to her before they dropped off from exhaustion.
With all the sex, she hadn’t fully recovered from the soreness between her legs. She dipped her head so no one would see her grin. For all she cared, he could fuck her raw if he wanted. She craved his touch that badly.
Oh, she wanted to bury her red face into her hands. How could she be such a wimp and pushover?
One thing she’d learned from Mac was to enjoy every second with the one who made you happy. In the last year, he’d become rather nostalgic and even talked on occasion about his wife, her grandmother. From the way he spoke about her, he’d loved her deeply. Once, he’d admitted he should’ve been a better husband. Her grandmother had hated the feud between the two families. Maybe that was why he’d conspired with Dick Whitfield and wrote their wills the way they had.
“Angel?” Jake asked, breaking into her thoughts. He lifted his chin toward the kitchen’s open back door.
This afternoon he dressed in gray slacks and a button-down shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair, brushed back from his face, glistened from a recent shower. She wanted to press her face to his neck as the scent of clean man drifted over her senses. The man easily sent her heart racing. Why couldn’t she be as cool and put together as he did?
“Sure.” She inhaled, pulling herself together. “You behave,” she said to her brother and leaned over to hug him. He squeezed her back. She loved how Damien never pushed her away in mortification as so many other teenagers did their siblings or parents. She was so grateful she had someone to love her back. She briefly glanced toward Jake. He watched with one eyebrow lifted.
“I always do.” Damien waved as he stared at his new mobile phone. She shook her head, smiling in fondness. In her brother’s case, she probably rated second or third in his heart, behind his phone and Jake’s gaming system.
She hoped this phone wouldn’t drop calls like the cheap one she’d brought him. Lydia had given it to Damien, and her brother had promptly thanked her for the unexpected gift. Her heart melted with the thought. Mischievous with a bit of a temper he needed to learn to control, overall he was a good boy with pretty decent manners.
Angel smiled at Jimmie Sue. “Make him put it up while you’re shopping. If you don’t, I have a feeling you’ll be talking to the top of his head most of the afternoon.” Angel would set some ground rules soon.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” The housekeeper gave Damien a tender look.
Her brother never had so many women doting on him. She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
She picked up her coat and started to ease by her patient husband.
“Leave that here. You don’t need it.” He grabbed her elbow for a second.
Looking at the old leather coat, she hesitated.
“Baby, relax and be yourself for the weekend,” Jake said in a whisper as he brushed her hair to the side, gazing deeply into her eyes.
The coat was part of her persona. The badass goth girl determined to show the world she wasn’t afraid of anyone. She could tell by his tender look, he wanted her to trust him. Whatever he planned probably wouldn’t require her to bring her bitchy collector-self. She hooked it on the peg near the back door. He was right. Lifting her backpack from the wooden chair’s finial, she discreetly moved her small Beretta from her coat to a side pocket and zipped it up. She nodded to her coat. “I’ll put it up when I get back.”
She didn’t want to cause any extra work for Jimmie Sue than she and Damien did already.
“No. No. It’s no problem for me to drop it off in Jake’s room. I mean, your room. Heck, you know what I mean.” Jimmie Sue laughed, shaking her head. “Things are changing so fast around here my poor brain can’t keep up.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Angel nodded at Jimmie Sue. The housekeeper slid another cookie over to Damien.
The corner of her lips lifted slightly. Nearly every time she looked at the housekeeper happiness filled her, and she smiled no matter how often she fought it. Lately, she’d wondered what her life would’ve been like if Jimmie Sue had been her mother. Her chest tightened. Nothing could be changed. It was what it was.
Angel headed toward the open door and dipped her head toward Lydia. “Good day.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Angel but didn’t say a word in return.
What had Angel expected? The woman had issues. Just as long as she didn’t mistreat Damien, Angel could handle her. Otherwise, there would be an in-your-face discussion at the Whitfield house.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jake turned the SUV off the main highway they’d been traveling down for the last ten minutes. He cut his eyes over to Angel. She’d been quiet since he started the vehicle.
“You okay over there?” Why had he asked her that?
Normally, he preferred the quiet. Sure, her husky voice warmed his blood. Though he would never tell her, he did respect her opinion. She had a knack for reading people and the situation, like Special Agent Alex Carleton. Of course, it hadn’t taken much to figure out the agent was a crazy bitch.
“You haven’t told me where we’re going.” Angel fingered the backpack on her lap as if she was nervous about something.
>
“In a minute. First, let’s talk about your visit to Trey Vinnie. I heard you went to take care of a problem and you went alone.” He felt her gaze on his face as he continued to watch the road.
“Yeah. He’d been skimming the games.” She sighed and leaned her head back.
“He’s a mean son of a bitch. Not many people dare to reprimand him.”
“Maybe, but this is part of my job.”
“Even Sen knows with certain people he should bring a backup. A couple of his people have a reputation for testing the boundaries. Instead of taking a chance they would use the opportunity to stab him in the back, he takes someone to guard his it.” Jake had to make her realize that she was no longer alone. “I believe a couple days ago I asked you to start taking one of the men with you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Babysitter. No, but backup, in case the shit hits the fan.” His jaw popped from frustration. “Angel, it’s a simple request, one I shouldn’t have to repeat.”
“Fine.” Her tone said she really wasn’t.
“You and I will discuss it more in depth when we reach the cabin.”
“You just want an excuse to beat my ass again.”
The heat in the vehicle shot up. He sensed her anger, but it was mixed with hunger for his firm, hot touch.
“No.” He flashed a grin her way. “Do I really need an excuse?”
Her beautiful green eyes lit up with anticipation. That was his girl. She loved their bedroom fun as much as he did. The discipline merely spiced up their relationship.
Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel Page 18