Stingray Billionaire: The Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Alexa Davis

  "I understand," he said as he dropped his eyes and stared at the table. "Is this better?"

  "Only slightly," I smiled. "You have to stop imagining any of that while I'm still here."

  "Fine, I'll meditate on penguins, baseball, and entomology," he said to the table.

  "That's a weird combination of things," I said.

  "Perhaps, but you have to admit that none of them are erotic." He grinned, still looking down.

  "Well, you don't have to be a smartass," I retorted.

  "Better than being a dumbass," he shot back, making me forget where we were as I chuckled.

  "Stop it!" I said quickly regaining my professional demeanor. "I need to formulate a strategy to get you bail and get you out of here, and this is not helping."

  "Now, see there's one other thing I need to talk to you about," he said.

  "What's that?"

  "I'm not the only one who needs to be bailed out of here," he replied as he looked up at me. "I need you to get my brother out, too."

  I stood staring at him for a full minute before I said, "Mr. Malone, if there are any more surprises you intend to spring on me, I suggest you get them all out on the table right now. Because if you continue doing it this way, we're both going to be screwed."

  Dax looked up at me with a roguish smile that caused my heart to pound hard in my chest and then said, "Nope, that's about it."

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Dax

  I looked up at Brooke as I told her about getting bail for Beck. She shook her head, which loosened her braid a little and made me recall the way her silky hair had felt when I'd run my fingers through it the night before. I watched a long strand wind its way around her neck and I breathed deeply as I tried to maintain control of myself while she talked.

  Brooke hadn't seemed too surprised by my drug business, but I could tell she had a lot of questions she wanted to ask. I knew her well enough to know that she was only going to ask what she needed to know and try to avoid getting caught up in shady dealings that would put her at risk. She was smart enough to recognize that defending me meant skirting the law in a way that wouldn't leave either of us vulnerable. And as I watched her do the mental acrobatics necessary, I found myself even more attracted to her.

  "Dax!" she snapped.

  "What?" I replied, shaking my head to clear it.

  "If we're going to work together, you're going to have to stay focused on what we're doing," she scolded. I knew she was right, but I couldn't help remembering the way she'd moaned when I'd caressed her beautifully shaped breasts.

  "DAX!" she yelled. "Jesus, you're going to have to focus! You do understand that your life is on the line here, right?"

  "Got it," I said as I stared down at the table, willing myself to stay focused on the questions she was asking.

  "You're going to have to give me a timeline of where you were the day that Lydia disappeared," she said. "Then, you're going to have to trace your movements for a week prior and post disappearance. Do you understand?"

  "Sure, no problem," I said. I knew that the cameras at the club would verify my whereabouts. Every digital tape was time and date stamped and stored on a server away from the club. This was dangerous, because it meant that if someone conducted business on the premises we'd have evidence of that, as well. I crossed my fingers and hoped that no one had been that careless the week before or after Lydia's murder.

  "Then, I'm going to need to check out the boat," Brooke said as she made a note on the yellow legal pad on the table. She was definitely formulating a game plan. "I think the police have it under surveillance until they can haul it back to the station for someone to go over it with a fine-tooth comb."

  "Probably," I said, focusing on the legal pad and its yellow color. It was helping me keep my mind on what Brooke was saying and off of how she looked while she was saying it.

  "Is there anyone you can think of who would be out to get you?" she asked.

  "You're kidding, right?" I looked up at her in disbelief.

  "What?"

  "Brooke, I'm a drug dealer in LA," I said. "Of course there are people out to get me. The question is who would be so pissed at me that they'd kill my lawyer?"

  "Alright, well, I'm going to need you to make a list of the people you think might be out to get you so that I can have Jordie and Roger go interview them," she said.

  "Get the fuck out of here," I shot back.

  "There's no need to swear, Mr. Malone," she said, as if speaking to a small, stupid child.

  "Look, Counselor, do anything you need to do to win this case and prove my innocence," I said, my voice getting louder as I continued until I was shouting at the top of my lungs. "But do not send your legal colleagues into rival gang territory to ask questions about whether or not they framed me!"

  "Do not yell at me, Malone," she warned as she narrowed her eyes.

  "Oh, you're dispensing with the courtesy title, are you?"

  "Only when you act like an idiot," she retorted.

  "Me, act like an idiot? ME?" I shouted. "Jesus, lady, for a college-educated lawyer, you are one stupid woman."

  "That's enough, Malone," she said in a voice that was so calm it chilled my blood. She placed both palms on the table and leaned in so that she was inches from my face and quietly said, "I'm going to say this one time, and one time only. I am the lawyer on your case, and you either cooperate with me and play nice or I will walk out of here and leave you high and dry. You've had your one freebie mistake – do not make a second one. Got it?"

  In that moment, I knew I wasn't dealing with a sweet innocent girl from Lincoln Heights. No, I realized I was dealing with a woman who definitely knew what she was doing and that if I didn't let her do it, she'd leave me defenseless.

  "I'm sorry, Brooke," I said. It was one of the few times in my life that I'd apologized, and I was glad that no one else was here to witness it.

  "Apology accepted. Bygones," she nodded before looking back at the legal pad. "Now, I'm going to go arrange for your bail and bail for your brother. What did he do, anyway?"

  "He's high as a kite," I sighed. "They arrested him for trespassing on the boat, but it's a bogus charge because it's my boat and he hangs out there all the time."

  "He what?" she did a double take.

  "He hangs out on the boat," I repeated. "Takes it out and goes fishing, you know. Stuff that a fuck-up little brother does."

  "God, Dax, don't you get it?" she said. "Your brother could have killed Lydia! Or one of his cronies!"

  "Who? Beck? That little fuck-up?" I laughed. "Right. He can barely tie his own shoes these days."

  "But we don't need him to actually be the killer. Think, Dax, think!" she urged. "We just need him to cast reasonable doubt on your guilt. This is good! Very good!"

  "It's a fucking joke," I said shaking my head. I knew where she was going with this, but it was so ludicrous that I didn't have any faith in it actually working.

  "Alight, I'm going to go plead your case and get you two out," she said. "This will take a few hours. I've got to file paperwork, arrange for a bond, and get you both to the courthouse."

  "Call Riza. She knows how to arrange the bonds," I said and gave Brooke the number. "How likely do you think it is that you'll get us out today?"

  "I don't know. I've got to see who the judge is and then get the paperwork filed," she replied as she scribbled furiously on the legal pad. "I need to get this to Jordie."

  Brooke quickly gathered up her things and shoved them in her briefcase before she looked at me and said, "I'm going to do everything in my power to get you out of here. Please don't do anything to screw that up."

  "Now who’s being insulting?" I said defensively.

  "I'm not kidding, Dax," she said quietly. "I'm only going to get one shot at it. Do not screw this up."

  I could see the gravity of the task weighing on her, so I simply nodded as she walked to the door and knocked to be let out. Before the door opened, she turned and looked at
me over her shoulder. The look told me everything I needed to know about what she was thinking.

  I nodded as she left me sitting chained to the table. Alone.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Brooke

  As soon as I left Dax, I found Jordie and gave him the sheet of notes and told him to call Riza so she could arrange for bail. Then, I went to the court to take care of the paperwork for the bail hearings. I knew that the docket was light today, so it would be likely that both Dax and Beck would come before the judge. I wanted to be absolutely prepared for any eventuality.

  I trusted that Dax had, in fact, told me everything, but I didn't trust that he knew everything himself. Beck was the wildcard, and I wanted to meet with him before I walked into the courtroom and found out that I was asking for bail for the actual murderer. I returned to the jail and asked to see Beck. As his lawyer, I had the right to meet with him and advise him. But I didn't particularly care about advising, so much as finding out what was going on with his story.

  The officer brought me back to the interview room where'd I'd met with Dax, and there I found a smaller, weaker version of the man I was so intensely attracted to. Beck was shorter than Dax by a good four inches and his hairline was receding where Dax's was still thick and curly. Beck's scraggly beard and dirty clothes were the exact opposite of Dax's neatly maintained scruff and perfectly pressed pants. It was a study in contrasts, and I wondered how two brothers could be so incredibly different.

  "You my lawyer?" Beck slurred as the officer sat him down and cuffed his left hand to the table the same way he'd done with Dax.

  "I am," I said in a crisp voice. "My name is Brooke Raines, and I'm going to be representing you at today's bail hearing."

  "Cool," he said drawing out the “oo” sound in a way that made me wonder if he was high or if there was some other issue.

  "Beck, do you remember where you were the night Lydia Banks was murdered?" I asked.

  "Who?"

  "Lydia Banks, your brother's lawyer," I repeated.

  "Aren't you my lawyer?" he said, raising his glazed eyes to look at me. He was as high as a kite.

  "I am," I said. "I want to know where you were the night Lydia Banks was murdered."

  "Party," he smiled. "I was partying with the crew!"

  "Where were you partying, Beck?"

  "The boat, man," he said raising his right hand in a fist and causing the officer standing guard to open the door and look at me. I shook my head and he closed the door, leaving us alone.

  "What boat?" I asked.

  "The big one, dude!" he laughed. "Man, we had a blast! There was coke everywhere, and R'nR brought the party kit!"

  "R'nR?" I asked. It was obvious that Beck was a serious junkie, just as Dax had warned.

  "Yeah, you know, rest and relax! R'nR!" he laughed at his own joke, but came no closer to explaining who R'nR were. I made a note of it on my legal pad and circled it.

  "Beck, why did they arrest you today?" I asked. "Do you know why?"

  "Yeah," he said with a frown. "I punched a cop. They didn't like it. I didn't mean to, though."

  I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. It wasn't funny that Beck didn't know why he'd been arrested, but the fantasy world he'd built for his drug-addled brain was somewhat amusing.

  "No, they arrested you for trespassing," I said. "Did you know that?"

  "Nope, sure didn't," he said shaking his head. "What'd I trespass on?"

  "Your brother's boat," I said.

  "How'd I do that?" he asked seeming genuinely confused.

  "That's what I'm not sure about, Beck," I said. "Can you remember what you did earlier today? Why were you on the boat?"

  "They told me to go get the stash," he said. "Said that if I got it, I could have a hit. They said that I wouldn't get in trouble, but they would."

  "Who told you this?"

  "R'nR! Aren't you listening to me?" he said, obviously annoyed as he picked at his fingers. "They give me what I need."

  "Beck, you need to tell me who R'nR are," I said in a stern voice as I tried to hide the exasperation I felt in having to negotiate with someone whose reasoning was impaired.

  "Are you gonna get me and Dax out of here?" he asked looking up at me with a childlike curiosity.

  "I'm going to do my best," I said. "But you're going to have to help me."

  "Okay," he nodded looking down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time.

  "Beck, what did R'nR give you?"

  "Mmmm, a hit," he nodded. "Yeah, they gave me a hit."

  "Of what?"

  "Dunno," he shrugged. "I asked and they gave it to me."

  "Okay," I sighed. "Is there anything else you can tell me about why you were arrested?"

  "I hit a cop," Beck giggled. "He tried to take my stash, so I hit him. It was mine!"

  "Good lord, Beck!" I yelled. "Do you have any idea what you are doing to your brother?"

  "No, why?" he asked. I was furious with him for putting Dax in such a perilous position in order to feed his habit, but I also knew that if he really did have a serious drug problem, it was unlikely that he was doing anything that could be considered premeditated. This made things more complicated because I couldn't point to anyone other than Dax as the potential murderer. And if I didn't have an alternative motive, I was going to have a hard time arguing that Dax should be out on bail. Getting mad at Beck wasn't going to help, though. I needed to calm down and think.

  "Beck, think carefully," I said in a calm voice, approaching the questions from a totally different angle. "Who was on the boat with you when Lydia disappeared?"

  "Huh?"

  "You were on the boat, right?" I asked.

  "Uh huh," he nodded.

  "Who was on the boat with you when Lydia disappeared?"

  "Who's Lydia?" he asked.

  "Okay, I think we're done here," I sighed. I had to admit that perhaps Beck wasn't involved in any of this and that maybe he was simply the fall guy, but if that were the case, then why was Dax being charged with Lydia's murder? None of this made sense.

  I gathered up my things and tapped on the door to let the guard know we were done. Before I left the room, I looked back over my shoulder and would have sworn that I saw Beck smiling and giving me a knowing wink. But when I blinked and looked again, he was again sitting at the table staring at his fingers.

  I shook my head to clear the obvious illusion and went to find Jordie and Roger. We had work to do.

  #

  Later that afternoon, I appeared before the judge and argued that bail be set in both cases. The judge pushed back, asking how I could be sure that Dax wouldn't jump bail and run. I assured him that Dax's ties to the community were strong enough to keep him firmly situated in the city. I also pointed out that Dax was Beck's brother and caretaker and pointed to the history of him stepping in and making sure his brother followed the rules.

  "And look where it's led, Counselor," the judge said with a grim expression.

  "Your Honor, I can guarantee that Mr. Malone will appear in court as requested for all hearings," I said.

  "And exactly how are you going to do that, Ms. Raines?" the judge asked.

  "Myself or one of my associates will check in with Mr. Malone at regular intervals until the trial, and Mr. Malone will agree to stay within a six block radius of his office and his home."

  "That's highly unusual, Ms. Raines," the judge observed. "I'm not sure that's in the best interests of you or your associates or that any of you can enforce it."

  "We believe that Mr. Malone is innocent," I said simply. "We're going to do whatever it takes to prove that."

  "Very well, Counselor," the judge said. "Bail is set at four million for Mr. Dax Malone, and one hundred thousand for Mr. Beck Malone."

  I nodded as the spectators gasped. I had been prepared for the bail to be much higher than this, so four million sounded like a steal. Riza had arranged for the bondsman to have the paperwork ready as soon as the hearing was ov
er. So, as soon as we signed the papers, Dax and Beck were released into my custody.

  Jordie pulled up and we all climbed into the car with Dax and Beck in back. Beck began asking a series of rapid-fire questions until Dax told him to shut the hell up. He was silent until we pulled up in front of the rehab facility.

  "What the fuck?" Beck yelled.

  "Shut up, Beck," Dax growled. "It's for your own good."

  "The fuck it is!" he shouted. "I never agreed to this! I never said I'd go to rehab!"

  "This isn't about what you want, Beck." Dax sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked exhausted. His eyes were weary and as he spoke, I could tell this was painful for him to do to his brother. Painful, but necessary. "You need to go to rehab. You have a problem."

  "You can't do this to me, Dax!" Beck cried. Tears began flowing down his cheeks as he sobbed and begged Dax not to do this. I felt my heart breaking as I watched the two brothers. Dax trying to be strong and make the right decision, and Beck sobbing like a lost child as his brother put an arm around him and tried to assure him that everything would be okay.

  "I don't want to do it, but I have to," Dax said. "Someone has to stop this and you aren't strong enough to do it yourself."

  "I don't want to go," Beck said in a small voice.

  "I don't want you to go, either, but you have to," Dax said as he wrapped his arms around his brother and spoke quietly. "You have to go and get sober, Beck. You can't end up like...them."

  Beck looked up at Dax and nodded, and the brothers walked up to the front door together. Thirty minutes later, Dax climbed back into the car and said, "Let's go."

  I looked into the backseat and saw Dax staring out the window, obviously not wanting to talk. I nodded at Jordie and we headed back to the office.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Dax

  I stared out the window the whole ride back to the club. Entering rehab was not Beck's choice, it was mine. I had to figure out who had killed Lydia so that I wouldn't take the fall for something I hadn't done, and having a junkie brother on the loose was not going to be helpful. Aside from that, I didn't want Beck to die, and if he continued using the way he had been, he was definitely upping the odds.