Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel

by Carla Swafford

  He reached out, grabbed her hand, and tugged her toward him. Unable to resist, he cupped her breasts. “Did you forget where we are?”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “In a cabin with a dead man in the next room.” She tilted her head, staring at him, and then her eyes rolled upward. “In the bedroom.”

  “My cabin. My bedroom.”

  “Your bedroom,” she said in a sarcastic tone as she rocked her head side to side with each syllable.

  Damn, she was cute.

  “That means per our agreement, I’m the boss here,” he said, making sure she understood his seriousness.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He leaned down, spread open the shirt, and sucked on the tip of each nipple. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips when she whimpered. With a satisfying smack, he stopped. “Finish dressing, and I’ll call down to the gate.”

  She grinned, and his heart did a weird flip. He growled, and she laughed.

  Fishing his phone from beneath the pillow, he punched in the speed dial number and waited for the lead guard to answer. A familiar gruff hello assured him what he’d guessed had been correct.

  “Call Tick to arrange for a clean up crew.”

  Silence reigned for a couple seconds on the other end until a sigh echoed through the connection.“Fuck, Mr. Whitfield. I swear we’ve been patrolling the area.”

  “We’ll talk about it later. We’re leaving in about fifteen minutes to head back to the house. I want to pass the cleanup van on the other side of the interstate and know it left when I asked it to.” No matter there were few cabins nearby, he didn’t want to take a chance of anyone eavesdropping on their phone conversations. Too simple to do with all the gadgets available on the Internet.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jake cut off the connection.

  “I’m glad we’re leaving. There is so much to be done back home,” Angel said.

  “Home?”

  She hesitated in hooking her bra beneath his shirt she still wore. “I guess I consider your house as mine, too. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  Her question was unnecessary as the will had given her the big monstrosity, but he could tell she wasn’t thinking that way, and his answer was important to her.

  “Yeah. It’s good.” He clasped the back of her neck and eased her closer, his lips hovering over hers. “I like knowing you’re comfortable enough to think that. Plus, I like having you in my bed,” he said in a low, rough tone.

  Her eagerness was obvious when she covered his mouth with hers, taking his breath away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Angel awoke with a start, sweaty and anxious. She reached out for Jake. Her hand met cold sheets. Feeling desolated by the empty part of the bed, she covered her head with the sheet. Why was it whenever she sought some comfort, the person she needed wasn’t there?

  No. That wasn’t the way she wanted to think. She was a grown woman and didn’t need coddling.

  Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling, she said beneath her breath, “It was a silly little dream.”

  In her mind’s eye, she saw the man she’d killed. He’d worn a hoodie and his crooked finger pointed at her like in a Charles Dickens story. Awake and eyes open, the dream should be laughable, but her thumping heartbeat said otherwise.

  After returning to the Whitfield house yesterday morning, she’d struggled to unwind. Jake had taken off to meet with his brother, Ethan. His youngest brother had left Nashville with the cops on his tail. Ethan and the woman traveling with him had given them the slip and now holed up at her place. News came back to her the man she’d killed had been part of the organization in Atlanta trying to take over Jake’s family’s business.

  Determined to block out the memories last night, she hunted down her brother—of course, he sat at the kitchen table eating another wonderful smelling dessert—and asked about the clothes buying trip. Damien had entertained her with the craziness of shopping with Jimmie Sue.

  All was good while they had picked out clothes together, but once he’d trekked back into the dressing room area, he knew he was in trouble. She’d been on his heels. He’d freaked out when she continued into his dressing room and insisted on helping him try on the new jeans. When he politely told her to leave, she’d claimed he didn’t have anything she hadn’t seen before.

  Without missing a beat, he’d said, “Then it is only right I help you try on your clothes.”

  The seventy-plus woman blushed so deeply he’d been afraid he caused her to have a stroke. Flustered and good humored about it, Jimmie Sue remained outside of the room the rest of the afternoon.

  No one could ever say her brother didn’t speak his mind. He and Angel had inherited that trait from Mac.

  Turning onto her side, she checked the clock on Jake’s nightstand. Three in the morning.

  Where was he? She needed his warm body. His deep voice. He’d help to keep her mind off the dead man at the cabin. If Jake’s arms had been around her when she woke up, the dream would have been much different. She was certain of that.

  Unable to tolerate the lonely bed, she jumped out and slipped on her old cotton robe. Jake had made fun of the tiny blue kittens printed on it. She hadn’t cared. Her mother had given it to her before she died. Angel wore the ratty robe whenever she needed a little comfort.

  Alone and early in the morning, doubts always assailed her from all sides. Was she wrong to give in to Mac’s wishes in marrying Jake? Could he betray her to the FBI agent? Or was he with another woman? Should she trust him with her heart? All her insecurities bombarded her. Why had he agreed to the marriage? He could walk away from everything and disappear. Men had done so to many women over the centuries. Why should he care what happened to her brother? Or her? She didn’t even want to think about how she compared to any of his ex-girlfriends.

  She shook her head. Too late to torment herself about any of that foolishness. What was, was. She had to deal with the here and now. No more concerns about yesterday or anything she couldn’t correct.

  In the kitchen, a dim light beneath the cabinets softly lit the countertops. She opened the refrigerator and drew out a bottle of water. Twisting off the cap, she chugged down half of the cool liquid.

  “Fuck, that’s still hot,” a deep voice said behind her.

  She choked. With a nearby towel, she dabbed at her chin and chest. “You scared the shit out of me. Next time let me know you’re there.” She closed the fridge.

  “Yeah, good thing you don’t have a knife,” Jake said from the shadows at the opposite end of the kitchen table.

  Without hesitation, she dipped her hand in a pocket and pulled out a switchblade, flipped it open. The sharp edge glinted even in the low light.

  “I should’ve known,” he said. His derisive chuckle gave her chills.

  Her eyes adjusted enough for her to see Jake holding a half-empty tumbler. He lifted it and swallowed the dark contents. The smoky smell of bourbon wafted to her side of the room.

  With a flick of her wrist, she closed the knife and dropped it into her pocket.

  “What happened?’ She eased closer to him.

  “Everything. Nothing.” He chuckled again. She didn’t like the sound of it. Something had happened.

  “Why are you sitting down here in the dark?”

  “Come here.” The squeak of wood scraping against tile echoed in the room. He slapped his hands on his thighs. “Right here.”

  “This isn’t the bedroom.”

  “I just want to hold you.”

  That sounded...odd. He was in a strange mood, as if he was tired beyond measure.

  Deciding to play along in an effort to find out what had happened, as she did want to give comfort and maybe receive it in return, she placed the bottle on the table and carefully walked to his chair. When she started to sit sideways on his lap, he grabbed her waist and changed her direction. Knees parted to clasp each side of his hips with her butt on his lap, she faced his sexy lips and hooded eyes. She liked this position. She
wiggled, feeling a hard ridge rubbing against her clit. How long would it take him to realize she was naked underneath her robe?

  He untied the sash of her robe and pushed it off her shoulders.

  Obviously, not long. She grinned.

  His calloused hands covered her ass cheeks and squeezed, pulling her closer to his body.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” he said with a groan in his voice.

  She sighed. Feeling his clothed hard body next to her bare one was so sensual and freaking erotic. Her taut nipples brushed against the cotton of his shirt.

  “Someone could walk in on us,” she whispered.

  “Let them.” One big hand cupped the back of her head, keeping her still for him to ravage her mouth. His tongue stroked, forcing her mouth to widen and take his kiss.

  She reached for the buttons on his shirt, but he quickly grabbed one hand and pushed it down to his zipper. Without hesitation, she scooted back a little, unfastened his pants, and lifted his cock. Just like his body, hard and hot.

  Without being told, she raised her hips and smoothly brought them down, centering his cock in her heat.

  He jerked his mouth from hers, arched his neck as he released a heavy groan. “Damn, just what I needed. You feel so fucking tight.”

  Times like now, she was glad her legs were so long. Using her knees, she pushed until he almost came out and then she began pumping up and down. He clasped her ass again and helped to steady her rhythm. As if it had been days instead of hours, he came in no time. Hearing his chest rumble with pleasure and feeling his cock pulsate helped nudge her over the edge. He moaned again when her body rippled with her orgasm.

  Seconds ticked by while she regained her breath and her heartbeat settled. Unable to restrain her impulse, she leaned up and nipped at his earlobe.

  “What the hell?” He growled. His eyes twinkled though no smile appeared.

  “You never answered me. What happened?” She started to worry something horrible had happened to one or both of his brothers.

  Jake urged her to rest a cheek on his shoulder, holding her firm but gentle.

  “I told Ethan about my meetings with the FBI agent.”

  “I thought you were going to wait.”

  “He’d recognized her in town and went ballistic.”

  If only she’d been there to soothe things over between the brothers. Then again, would they have listened to her?

  She leaned back, stroking his cheek. He pressed against her hand. “Were you able to calm him down?” She stared into his eyes. The poor guy was as starved for her touch as she was for his.

  “No.”

  “Wait. How did he know she was FBI?”

  “She’d visited Holman while he was there.”

  “Oh, hell. That was where he served his time?” Everyone knew about the overcrowding and horrible conditions. It wasn’t called Slaughterhouse for nothing.

  “Yeah. What little he’s told me, it was a living hell there.” He rubbed her arms up and down. “While mopping a corridor, he’d watched her attack the inmate she’d been interrogating. Took three guards to drag her off the man. The warden had her kicked out. Seeing an FBI agent act crazy inside a state prison is something a person never forgets.”

  “I can imagine that scene would stick. So what are we going to do?”

  “We?” One corner of his mouth perked up.

  “Yes. We.” She lightly brushed her lips against his. “We’re in this together.”

  “Yeah. I guess we are.” He kissed her hard, laving every inch of her tongue, and pulling and licking her bottom lip. He took her breath away before easing back. “He did promise not to do anything and give me time to check on a few options,” he said as he rested his forehead to hers.

  “Like what?”

  “He’d heard she’d been fired recently and was only pushing her own agenda or the Atlanta organization’s.”

  From what Jake had told her, it was the same Atlanta organization that was headed by Mikolas Savalas. A dangerous man who Mac had established a treaty with years ago. Since her granddaddy’s death, she suspected Savalas thought it would be okay to move into Tally and Whitfield territory.

  “Holy crap. What a way to go about taking over the businesses. What with the inside information you would provide.”

  “Right. Chances are I’ve been fucked over big time.”

  Sitting on the front porch, Jake watched the trees change from black to green bathed in gold as the sun peeked over the leafy tops. He loved the land surrounding the old house. A great place for kids to play and be carefree.

  With the right parent.

  He inhaled on his cigarette, savoring the biting smoke and how it calmed his thoughts. After a couple of seconds, he blew a long stream, even adding several rings to float over the railing.

  Yeah. Some aspects of the old homestead and town would be missed, but he had too many bad memories. Leaving for good would not be a hardship. Especially having Angel by his side. Shit. He never thought he would feel that way. The woman had gotten under his skin and all in good ways. She surprised him every day. Open-minded and willing to listen to what he said about running her family’s organization to trying new positions, she pleased him at every turn.

  “Hey, Jake, is it okay for me to ask you a question?”

  Jake leaned back in the rocking chair and looked over his shoulder at Angel’s brother standing next to the open front door.

  “Sure. Close the door and have a seat.” The cool air from the house’s interior reminded him of how the humidity built during the early morning hours. “Must be important to get you up this early.”

  “I was wondering if you could take me to the store to buy Sis a present.” The teenager grimaced.

  “That’s pretty nice, bro. What’s the occasion?” Jake took a last drag off his cigarette and then pinched off the fire, letting it drop to the cement floor to step on it. With a flick of a finger, he shot the stub into the shrubbery.

  A few seconds went by without a sound from Damien. Jake glanced over. The teenager stood staring at him with a mixture of confusion and anger.

  “What?” Jake pushed off the chair and towered over Damien. If he was going to be attacked, he’d rather stand.

  “Today is her birthday,” Damien said between gritted teeth.

  “I see.” Jake nodded. “Birthdays are important to you.” The last more of a statement than question.

  “Yep.” Damien’s eyes narrowed.

  The teenager had an attitude he needed to work on if he planned to stick around Jake and his brothers for any length of time. He better be happy Jake’s old man wasn’t alive. Dick Whitfield never hesitated in slamming him face first onto the porch railing for the show of temper. Damien was lucky Jake refused to follow his old man’s footsteps.

  “Listen. Let’s go back inside and eat breakfast. Your sister is still asleep.” Jake wasn’t about to say what happened earlier in the morning, causing Angel to be so exhausted. “From what I remember, most of the stores do not open until ten. We’ll each find her something.”

  The teenager’s jaw unclenched, and he released a couple of huffs.

  “You really didn’t know?” Damien tilted his head. So much like his sister with the same color of eyes.

  “Nope, but I should’ve found out.” He placed an arm over the teenager’s shoulders. “So she’s twenty-nine.”

  “Nah. Twenty-seven.”

  Math had always come easy to him. Jake stopped. “Thirteen years ago, in April—Christ! That means your sister was fourteen when—Jesus H.”

  “When what?”

  Jake looked down. Damien was truly a good kid. Hell, how many teenaged brothers worried about their sister’s birthday?

  “The last time we saw each other in high school,” he said simply, not sure of how much the teenager knew about what happened all those years ago.

  “Oh, you’re talking about when you...you know...” Damien twisted his lips in an attempt to stop from grinning. “When yo
u whipped her butt.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Like Mac didn’t bring it up anytime he wanted to embarrass Angel.” Damien rolled his eyes.

  “He did?”

  “Yep. Mac loved teasing people until they lost their temper. Only the last few years, Angel learned to ignore him. I guess he overused it.”

  “Sounds like it.” Jake’s jaw popped. It sickened him to know her own family hadn’t let her live that moment down. Even with it being a private turning point for them, he hated to hear their unconventional turn on had been used against her by others. Nothing could be done about it now. “Let’s get out of the heat.” He opened the front door, and they moved toward the kitchen. “Jimmie Sue arrived while we were talking. Go and ask if you can help her.” He wanted the teenager’s mind on other things.

  Damien wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know how to cook.”

  “Ask anyway. Jimmie Sue won’t let you lift a finger, but she’ll be so happy you asked, she’ll fix anything you want for breakfast. Maybe later at lunch, one of her apple turnovers will show up on your plate. Don’t tell her about Angel’s birthday. Or she’ll insist on baking a birthday cake and Angel might see it. I’d like to surprise her. We’ll pick up one when we buy her presents.”

  “All right!” Damien wiped imaginary saliva from his mouth and jogged down the hallway to the kitchen.

  As soon as Damien was out of sight, Jake took the steps two at a time up to the second floor. He eased open the bedroom door.

  Sprawled across the bed, Angel sleepily looked up at him. “Hey,” she said in a raspy voice.

  “There’s my birthday, girl.” He leaned down and kissed her temple. Women were so funny about morning breath. “Why didn’t you give me a heads up today is your birthday?”

  She shrugged. “After Mom died, it became another day. Though Damien usually remembers.” Stretching, she looked at him, an unspoken question showing on her face.

  “Yeah. He made sure I knew.” Jake sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hair from her face. “I realized today you were only fourteen when I took you over my knee the first time.”