Colt smacked the back of his head and sat down.
“There’s an old Chinese saying, ‘a rat who gnaws at a cat’s tail invites destruction.’” Jasper’s eyes were hard.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Reb rubbed his skull.
“Means shut the fuck up and quit while you’re ahead.”
Reb scowled. “When do I become a made man? I can already tell this shit’s gonna get old.”
“When you do somethin’ to impress us.” Dix doubted it’d be anytime soon. “I didn’t get in for three years.”
“Took me two.” Jasper brushed some imaginary lint from one shoulder.
“Took me two months.” Ten’s smile was a touch smug.
Tennessee Ross, or Ten for short, never said much and prided himself on being cagey as fuck.
Before he’d started as a soldier, Dix hadn’t been able to find him in any database. Luckily for Ten, he had a skill set which came in handy, and the outfit had overlooked his lack of documentation.
“I got it done in two weeks.” Byron had won this particular pissing contest, as per usual. “I always aim to impress.”
“And what happens if I don’t impress you?” Reb asked.
“What do you think?” Byron gave him a dead-eyed stare. There’d been more than one recruit who’d had to be terminated, which wasn’t a euphemism.
Dix almost wanted to tell Rebel to run. Sooner or later, he’d get made, and then his life wouldn’t be the same. He’d never be the same.
“And you gotta pay your dues. Literally. Every time you score, you send payments up the chain of command.” As the newest made man, Jasper was relishing the chance to haze the new guy.
The mafia ran a bit like a pyramid scheme without the motivational slogans.
“And see Vick for a digital cleanup.” Dix nodded to her.
“What’s up with that? Y’all got chicks workin’ here.”
Dix slapped Reb this time. “She’s a technical analyst, and you’ll treat her with all due respect, or you’ll answer to me. For the record, whom I employ and how I run my business is none of yours. Soldiers follow orders. They don’t ask questions.”
“Ow.” Rebel sulked. “Stop hittin’ me.”
“Never disrespect my Vixen.” Jasper’s brows drew together. “She can empty your bank accounts, cancel your cards, and sign your ass up for the stinky cheese of the month club.” Jasper lifted a cupcake in salute, and Vick beamed.
Dix knew those two had something bubbling below the surface of their friendship, though he doubted they’d acted on it yet. One of these days, they would have a full-on office romance on their hands—what a mess. Maybe that’s why the old-school mobsters never hired dames.
Colt nodded. “Vick will keep your ass out of jail. She’ll fix your phone and scrub your social media.”
“Can I call you Vixen?” Reb offered Vick a sly smile.
“Fuck no.” Jasper hit Reb again.
“Dammit, that hurts!”
Hayden Swift, Will Butler, and Raleigh McCoy all filed in and took a seat.
Then Byron started the meeting. He went through the usual order of business—liquidity in the accounts, upcoming projects, and such.
“And I’m pleased to report our relationship with the Tres Erre cartel has officially ended.”
“Thank the dear sweet Lord.” Colt pounded the table, and everyone joined him.
Byron wanted to take the club into more profitable and less risky business ventures, which suited Dix fine. Their involvement with the Tres Erre had been a fiasco.
When their relationship had gone south, the cartel had cut one of their soldiers into chunks and returned his body, along with the dough the mafia had sent to tide them over while they searched for a missing shipment.
“If anyone has any ventures they’d like to run by me, my door is always open.” Byron glanced around the room. “You’ll also be happy to know I’ve got the Four Horsemen in line. There don’t appear to be any more rebellions on the horizon.”
Their partnership with the bikers had been bumpy. The outfit wanted the Horsemen to do protection runs and other assorted grunt work, but the bastards had a crazy notion about being vigilantes, not bad guys. He’d done recon on the Four Horsemen MC, with Vick’s help. Dix thought most of them were assholes.
“Anythin’ else we need to discuss before we adjourn?”
“One more order of business. Brax wants to join.” Dix hated to be the bearer of bad news.
“Over my dead body.” Byron’s jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared.
“You’ve been big-footed. At the ball, Brax talked to Tucker, and the boss signed off on it.” Dix hated to tell him like this, but orders were orders.
“Got it. You’re all dismissed.” Byron pounded a fist on the table.
***
Hours later, they were standing on the beach at Padre Island, just off the Texas coast, ready to approach Purvis Varnell, who led the southern contingent of the Texas Dixie Mafia.
“We gotta play this cool.”
Dix ignored Beauregard. He couldn’t even fake cool at the moment. His temper flared white hot. Marching over and throat-punching the son of a bitch sounded pretty goddamn reasonable. Dix had a serious ax to grind—one he’d love to put in Varnell’s back.
“You okay, Dix?” Beauregard stood in front of him.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look it.”
Dix grunted a reply.
Frankly, he didn’t know what was going on with him. He kept himself on an even keel. Ever since Ellie had died, he didn’t get involved. Women were a charming distraction from his work, something he took pleasure in. There’d been a series of mistresses, all of them beautiful. They came and went—no big deal.
Red made him feel territorial. She couldn’t protect herself from the men in his world. Belle was innocent, breakable.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need more of an answer.”
“Why do you care?”
“I’d rather not have this suit riddled with bullet holes. It’s Versace.” Beauregard smoothed his blue silk tie.
Dix chuckled, and some of the tension eased. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.
Byron had been quiet on the drive down, but he’d pulled it together now. Dix suspected he must’ve been thinking about Brax’s attempt to join the outfit. Since the fool had gone straight to Tucker, there was no way out of it. It was a done deal.
The beach was beautiful, rolling waves and nearly empty except for a few fishermen lined up along the water’s edge. Short-legged sandpipers ran from the water as they foraged for food.
The southern Texas outfit chose public areas because they were safer. No one wanted to attract attention to their illegal activities. Meeting around civilians guaranteed some restraint.
They spotted Varnell on a park bench in front of the shit house. His back was to the building—smart position. Unfortunately, it left their asses flapping in the breeze. They had to stand in front of him with their backs exposed.
Varnell sat reading a paper and drinking a cup of joe. He reminded Dix of a weathered, old cowboy. Varnell wore a pair of battered jeans with a flannel shirt and scuffed cowboy boots. His gray hair had a stringy appearance, like a Brillo pad that’d been used to death. He’d run the southern contingent for thirty some years. Dix wondered if the trials and tribulations of running the outfit had taken its toll.
As soon as they approached, he folded up the newspaper. “I might be the only son of a bitch who still reads these damn things. Don’t know why I bother—the news is never good.” He stared them all down. “What in tarnation could you possibly want?”
“You don’t know?” Jasper didn’t glance at Varnell. Instead, he stood to the side, scanning for trouble.
“Son, I’m too old for guessin’ games. I can’t afford to wait for things at my age. So what the fuck do you want?”
Dix was about to speak up when Byron shot him a quelling look.
“He
llo to you too.” Byron stepped forward.
“Heard you moved up in the world, Beauregard.”
“Yeah, I’m the Underboss now.” Byron stood a bit taller. “And I’m gonna do the talkin’ today, so cooler heads will prevail. Somebody tried to snatch a woman under our protection.”
“This is about a woman?” Varnell scratched the whiskers on his chin.
“Yeah.” Dix clenched his fists. “I call her Red.” If, by some long shot, they weren’t involved, he wouldn’t offer up her name to the bastards in case they decided to use it against him later.
“I don’t know anythin’ about it. There’s plenty of women to go around. We don’t need to steal yours.”
“And you’re tellin’ the truth?” Byron stepped closer. “I know we’ve had troubles in the past. Maybe you’re wantin’ to settle old scores?”
After Byron had taken over for Buckley, he’d reversed a lot of his father’s bad policies. The rivalry with the southern contingent was one of the first things he’d stopped.
“I’d keep my distance if I were you.” Varnell flipped back the rest of the paper on the bench beside him, revealing a gun. “And unlike your daddy, I ain’t a no-account savage. If I come for you, I’ll take the direct route.”
His lips flattened. “You’ll speak about Buckley Beauregard with respect.”
Byron’s relationship with his father was complicated, to say the least. He ran his father down all the time but didn’t tolerate others doing it, especially in their world. Any weakness made them vulnerable.
Dix worried Byron might take a swing, and they’d start up another feud.
Varnell stood. “You know I didn’t come alone, son.” He nodded to two men a hundred yards away, who dipped their heads in return. “If you want to start a pissin’ contest, I’d be more than happy to teach you a lesson.”
Dix instinctively grabbed for his gun but didn’t pull it out of his jacket. Jasper turned so he faced the two men. He didn’t pull either but put himself in a position where he could, if need be.
For a long, tense moment, no one moved.
“Bottom line, we didn’t try to take your girl.” Varnell drained the rest of his coffee. “I suggest you take the rage and use it on whoever did. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take a shit. When I get back, y’all won’t be here. I plan on gettin’ a little fishin’ in today.” Then he grabbed the gun wrapped in newspaper and took off to the restroom.
“Think he was lyin’?” Jasper asked.
Dix shook his head.
“They didn’t do it,” Byron said. “The old man’s right. They would’ve come right at us. Buckley’s the one who went all scorched earth on folks.” Buckley was infamous for bringing women and children into feuds because they made such easy targets.
“Well, if it wasn’t these boys, then who?” Jasper asked.
“This don’t make a lick of sense. Our beef with the cartel’s been settled. Who else could it be?” Dix had racked his brain looking for other likely suspects, but he’d come up dry.
Byron turned to Dix. “It’s time to find out if Belle has enemies.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
And while he didn’t know all the details, something about her ex-employer stank. Dix had a feeling the bastard was a very bad man.
Unfortunately for him, Dix was worse.
***
“Now that’s a mighty fine truck.”
Later the same evening, Dix pulled up in front of Belle’s apartment. He noticed the new truck straight away—a shiny Ford F-150. It was way better than the rusty bucket of bolts she’d been driving around.
He jumped out of the SUV and knocked on her door. Dix heard the shuffle of feet on the carpet and then sensed eyes on him through the peephole.
“Hey, boss.” Brax opened the door. “I relieved the security guard this evenin’.”
“Good to see you at your post. Now get lost.”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
Dix didn’t so much as a crack a smile. As the brother of a member, Brax was used to being treated cordially. Soldiers didn’t get any such respect; it was high time he learned the lesson.
“You heard me. Take a hike. I’ll call you when I want you to come back.”
Brax left in a huff, and Dix found Belle seated on the couch.
“Thank you for the truck.” Belle had circles under her eyes. Clearly, she hadn’t slept well last night. Dix could empathize because he’d tossed and turned too.
“Good choice. You’ll have to take me for a ride sometime.” Dix sat next to her on the couch.
“Did you, uh, take care of the problem?”
More than anything, he wanted to take her into his arms and make them both feel better. He bet an hour in her bed would take care of his mood. Too bad this wasn’t a social call. Right now, he didn’t have the time to indulge himself.
“Tried to.” Dix had intended to make small talk and warm her up a bit before he broached a tender subject, but time was a factor.
“So, you didn’t, uh, hurt anyone?” She beamed.
He couldn’t, in good conscience, let her think the best of him, believe he was a good man. Dix hadn’t been one in years.
“No, I’m sayin’ I tried and failed. The problem ain’t on our end.”
The smile wavered. “It isn’t?”
“I have a hard time believin’ anyone would do you harm, but somebody’s after you, and I’ve got a good idea who. Tell me about your boss.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” Belle turned away.
“Too bad. The time’s come, and I need to know. Tell me.”
She moved even further away. Dix longed to close the distance between them, pull her against his side and wrap her in his arms, but he needed to know who they were dealing with.
“Belle….”
“Fine. But I won’t tell you his name.”
Suits me. Dix would get the info one way or the other. He always did.
“So, for our purposes, I’ll call him Asshat.”
Dix chuckled. “Go on, then.”
“Asshat interviewed me at one of the school’s career fairs and offered me a second interview at Peregrine right on the spot. The job seemed perfect. Peregrine’s a residential facility with plenty of opportunities to move up. They do family therapy with domestic violence survivors. As soon as I graduated, they hired me, and it was my first ‘real’ job.” She shook her head. “Looking back on it, I was naïve. There were some red flags, but I ignored them.”
“Asshat was your direct supervisor?”
Belle nodded. “At first, I misinterpreted his attention.” She laughed bitterly. “I thought he wanted to mentor me. And I was starved for an older male figure to take an interest in me.”
“Emmett was a useless father, huh?” Dix’s dad didn’t have much of a head for business, but he’d had a good heart and loved his family.
“Talk about an understatement. I was friendly with Asshat at first. We even scheduled our weekly one-on-one meetings at restaurants.”
Dix frowned. He met with Vick all the time, but they stayed in the office.
“Yeah, I should’ve made that face when he asked me. None of the other counselors had lunch with him. Wherever I went, he always popped up. Asshat found a reason to be at the shelter when I was working the overnight shifts. He’d come in early to ‘do paperwork’ and spend most of the time talking to me.”
“Your boss was sexually harassin’ you?” Dix gripped the arm of the couch.
She shook her head. “I didn’t think so at the time. I figured he was friendly, and it was harmless workplace flirtation I shouldn’t read more into.” Belle looked down at the carpet. “I have a low opinion of men—my dad’s influence, I guess. I figured he needed the female attention so I gave it to him, but I didn’t intend to do anything else.”
“Let me guess—he wanted more?” The son of a bitch was smitten with her and tried to use his power and influence to get into her pants.
&nb
sp; And how’s it different from what I did?
A ripple of shame made him wince. Belle must think he was a monster. He’d backed her into a corner—pushed her into becoming his mistress.
“Bingo. One night, he trapped me in one of the empty rooms.”
“Did he rape you?” Dix gritted his teeth.
“No, because a resident walked in on us.” Tears filled her eyes. “If she hadn’t….”
“What happened?” He made sure to keep his tone even, but Dix was itching to get his hands on the piece of shit.
Belle sucked in a deep breath. “Everyone was asleep, and I was checking one of our emergency rooms. I thought I’d get it ready in case a family came in. So I put some linens on the bed, and then I heard the door close behind me.”
She shuddered. Dix took her hand in his, squeezing it.
“When I turned around, he was watching me. He had this triumphant look, and I was too stupid to see what was happening.” She grimaced. “Asshat started kissing me, and I think he’d convinced himself that I wanted him. After all, I didn’t tell him the flirtation was inappropriate. I should’ve reported it, so I did this to myself. If I could go back in time, I’d slap myself.”
“No, you didn’t do this.”
“Dix, he was married.” Her chin quivered. “I was such an idiot, and I had no idea how my life would implode.”
“He’s the one who was married. Asshat promised before all his friends, family, and God Almighty to be faithful to his wife. Not you.”
“Yeah, men are different than women. They get a free pass when it comes to this stuff.” Belle laughed bitterly. “Emmett taught me that a long time ago.”
“Not all men.”
“What? You never cheated on your wife?”
Her father must’ve crushed her. Dix could see the pain on her face when she spoke about him. Once he dealt with her boss, he’d handle Emmett too. Sooner or later, the Dixie Mafia would catch up to him.
“I never cheated on Ellie. Can’t say I was ever tempted. Sure, I noticed other women, but I loved her, and cheap sex wouldn’t be worth it.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “You are a love ’em and leave ’em type.”
“No, I ain’t. I don’t love—not anymore.”
Flesh and Blood (Dixie Mafia Series Book 1) Page 14