by Anne Conley
“I’ve got the best lawyer in Austin. There’s no way that whore can take him from me.” Another drink of the amber liquid. “But her lawyer hired some bitch to take my boy from me. I want her here.”
Was Cecil saying he wanted the lawyer here? …her lawyer hired some bitch… Was he referring to Deena Rae? A tickle of unease snaked up his spine at what he thought Cecil was saying. Unbidden images of Slade being pulled over in some stolen car Cecil had given him, with a lawyer tied up and gagged in the trunk, surfaced in his mind. He refused to entertain thoughts of Deena Rae in the trunk. Once again, he knew he was doing Cecil’s dirty work until Cecil decided he would be the perfect patsy.
“Sir, with all due respect, I didn’t sign up for kidnapping.” His voice seethed with barely restrained anger. He was not going to kidnap a lawyer. Cecil’s ex would just hire a different one. That was pointless. Lawyers were a dime a dozen in this city.
Cecil’s hand came down on the table loud enough to make everyone in the vicinity jump, the bartender going to the other end of the bar to wipe, the waitress moving to another area to sweep. Nobody wanted to be a witness. Slade got it.
Cecil’s voice belied his actions, though, as it dipped so low Slade could barely here it. “Do you have my money?”
Slade shook his head, swallowing thickly.
Something in Cecil’s eyes grew cold as he looked at Slade. “You owe me. And I always collect, Slade.” He slid from the bar stool on unsteady legs. “You have tonight to enjoy that pussy you’ve been seeing, but tomorrow, you’re mine.” His mouth a hard line across his face that created more lines than Slade had ever seen, Cecil turned to go.
The unease he’d been feeling all night multiplied at Cecil’s parting shot. His private life was private, and Cecil didn’t know about Ginger. As far as Cecil was concerned, she was just some chick he’d danced with and bought a drink for one night at Ignite.
So what the fuck was Cecil talking about?
Chapter Nineteen
By the time Slade picked her up, Deena Rae had rolled her hair, knowing it was futile if she would be riding on the back of his beautiful bike, but she didn’t care. Her lips were glossed, her eyes mascaraed, and her body lightly scented, all with the perfect ah factor in mind. She really wanted to bring Slade to his knees tonight.
When she opened her door to his knock, he let out a low wolf-whistle as his eyes hungrily raked her body from toe to tits. She preened under the attention. He didn’t look so bad, either.
He was dressed in jeans and a perfectly ironed black button-down shirt—opened up a few buttons to expose a tight-fitting t-shirt—with the sleeves rolled up to show off tendrils of his tattoo on one arm. Deena Rae turned to a pulsing pile of goo on her doorstep.
His eyes were focused on her legs wrapped in the supple leather pants she’d spent entirely too much money on, but at seeing his reaction, she was glad she’d splurged.
“Nice outfit,” he smirked at her before dropping a kiss on each cheek. He’d shaved, and his smooth cheeks were warm on her skin. “You ready?”
Deena Rae nodded, tucked her wallet and keys into her jacket pocket, and followed him out to his bike.
The night was cool and clear, but not cold, for which Deena Rae was grateful. Extreme temperatures made her grouchy. She didn’t like weather that would freeze your tits off, nor did she like melting. It made her one hundred percent bitch.
But this was perfect for wrapping her arms around a hot body and feeling rumbling vibrations between her legs.
“You ridden before?” Slade asked, handing her a helmet.
“Yeah, my dad used to ride. It’s been a while, but I’ve been wanting to get on this baby since I first saw it.”
He grinned at her, and she lost a year’s worth of heartbeats with his dimples, teeth, and lips all conspiring to melt her panties.
“Hop on.” His voice rumbled low and smooth as Deena Rae slid her leg behind him and reached around his waist.
She spent the ride relishing the sensations of the powerful bike and Slade’s torso, unable to stop her hand from running up and down his belly, feeling the tight ridges and his heart as it pounded in his chest. She leaned with him, her body in tune to his, not caring where they ended up. The roar of the engine filled her senses, and Deena Rae wanted to take her helmet off to feel the wind in her hair.
When they pulled up at a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place that was famous for their tacos and margaritas, Deena Rae grinned.
“I love this place,” she said, glad he hadn’t taken her to the food truck alley. She didn’t want to get shit on these pants, and she always spilled something on herself there.
Slade smiled at her as he helped her off the bike and held his hand at her back as they went inside. It was crowded, but that was okay. This place was always crowded. They sat in a booth in the back, and Slade scooted in next to her, the heat of his body making her want to do things.
Very bad things.
“Did you get your stuff done for the boss man today?” she asked, curious about Cecil.
He shrugged. “Not really. He gave me the night off.” He shuddered, as if someone had put ice down his shirt, and Deena Rae wondered what he did for his boss. He dipped his head at the server bringing chips, salsa, and water.
She’d been contemplating just being up front with Slade since she’d talked to Ryan about him. Taking a deep breath, she sputtered, “What exactly do you do for him?”
Slade shrugged, his eyes downcast. “I don’t know anymore.” He looked back up at her, his dark eyes slanting a little. “Look, I trust you. I have no idea why, but I do.” He sighed as the waitress came to take their taco and margarita order before continuing. His body relaxed as he spoke, as the tension he carried around drained out with whatever he was going to tell her. “I was hired to work security. Bouncing and stuff. But I owe Cecil money and now he’s collecting by making me his bitch. I run shady errands I refuse to ask questions about. I honestly don’t want to know. Usually, I’m delivering envelopes and bringing boxes and bags back to him. I’m sure before this is all over with, he’ll have me breaking some rich frat boy’s legs, but I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.”
“Why do you owe him money?”
Cecil Hodges was the last person on earth Deena Rae would consider borrowing money from. Slade would have to be desperate, and there were a few things that made men desperate, none of which were awesome. Drugs, gambling, hookers … She shuddered at the implications.
“It’s a really long story, and I don’t want to get into it. But I borrowed the money for a family member, and that’s all I’m going to say right now.” Slade was stopped by the waitress dropping off two enormous margaritas and a platter of tacos. He looked relieved as he sipped through the straw and shoved a taco into his mouth, stalling the conversation.
“Your mother?” She had looked him up, aside from Evan’s digging, and knew Slade’s only family besides Zack was his mother. And she had worked a string of minimum-wage jobs as far back as Deena Rae could find records on her. His nod was enough for her.
He finished another taco and sipped on his margarita, seemingly deep in thought about something. Deena Rae was mesmerized by the workings of his mouth—the chiseled jaw chewing, the lips wrapping around the rim of the glass—all while he was oblivious to her staring. When his eyes met hers, there was something deep in them, something she couldn’t name.
“Cecil knows there’s a lawyer digging into his business. I’m assuming that’s the lawyer who’s using your firm, which means it’s only a matter of time before Cecil knows about you.” His words made the look in his eyes clear. It was fear and anger.
A tickle rose in her belly. He was scared and angry for her. That was something totally new to Deena Rae. It took a moment for his words to register, but when they did, she was all business.
“Can you come in and talk to my boss, Simon? We could put some measures in place to—”
“You don’t get it.” Slade’s voice w
as hard again, back to the way it was when they’d first met, and he was warning her off him. All traces of tenderness and familiarity were gone. “He’ll kill me if he finds out I talked to you about him. In fact, I don’t know why I’m sitting here talking to you right now.” His face paled to an ashy-gray color under the dim, orangey lights of the restaurant. “He wants you dead. He didn’t say it in so many words, but you need to get off this fucking case.” He pleaded with her, his eyes glistening in the darkness.
“No way in hell am I giving up this case so that cum-guzzling spunkbucket can keep seeing his kid. If he’s as bad as you say, then he needs to go to jail, not get custody of a child.”
Slade stifled a bark of laughter at her choice of words by sucking down the rest of his margarita in some return to his youth, chugging it like the tequila inside the drink would soothe the turmoil inside his body. When he’d finished, he motioned for another.
It was okay, though. Deena Rae was enjoying herself, and starving, so she started shoveling food and drink into her own mouth. They relaxed as the tequila hit their systems, and after an extra shot, Deena Rae decided to reopen the conversation.
“What’s in the back rooms, besides sex? Or were you just feeding me lines to get in my panties?”
“Well, duh.” He grinned at her, his dimples flashing before he grew serious again. “Gambling, that I know of.” Gambling would be a good case against custody. It was illegal in Texas, which was why people traveled to Louisiana or the Reservations in Oklahoma to get their blackjack fix. “But I suspect other things, drugs and prostitution mostly. That’s an inner circle I’m not part of, and I’m glad for it.” He’d lowered his voice and watched her, his dark eyes sending her a message.
“Do you have any evidence? Anything I could take back to my boss?” Although murder threats were something, that was hearsay in any court of law. If Deena Rae could convince Slade to talk to Simon, that might be different, but she wasn’t going to push that right now.
He shook his head. “Nope. Just what I’ve seen. He’s offered to let me buy into a pot or two, but I suck at poker and don’t want to owe Cecil any more money than I already do.”
Deena Rae was pushing her luck and knew the conversation was over. Slade was scared, and she didn’t like this aspect of him. She wanted to make him feel better.
She nodded, slurping down the last of her drink, feeling really loose. His thigh had pressed against hers all through dinner—a welcome feeling of strength and security she wasn’t accustomed to. Since she was finished, she leaned against him, putting her head on his shoulder. He raised his arm and snuggled her in tightly.
Deena Rae wanted to know everything there was to know about him, but a crowded restaurant wasn’t the best place to find these things out. “Can we go for a walk?” They were close to the river, and she hadn’t walked up and down the banks of it … ever. That sounded like something romantic, and for some reason she was in the mood for some romance tonight. She couldn’t remember when a guy had actually taken her out, and she wanted to get the full effect.
“Sure. The river?” She nodded, Slade threw a bill on the table, and they left, holding hands like a freaking couple.
“You ever been married?” Deena Rae asked, wondering if he’d ever had a serious relationship.
“Nope. No kids, either. You?”
She laughed at the idea. “No on both counts.”
“Why did you laugh?”
Because she’d never been the least bit maternal. Deena Rae held the record for killing house plants; she didn’t even want to see how she would fuck up a kid. “Never found the perfect guy.”
“That’s the problem with women,” Slade mused. Deena Rae looked at him to see if he was mad, but he wasn’t. She went back to watching where she stepped, not wanting to fall and ruin her pants. “Y’all are always looking for perfection, not willing to see the guy who’s perfect for you. You’re too intent on finding some guy who meets all you’re imagined criteria.”
“Oh yeah?” Deena Rae slipped her hand inside his, wondering why all this romantic stuff suddenly felt so nice. She’d never been one for flowers and shit, but Slade was making her want it all: sappy texts, flowers, breakfast in bed. “What do you think my criteria are?”
He straightened his shoulders and squeezed her hand. “Tall, dark hair, broad shoulders, bitchin’ bike, and excellent lover.”
She snorted as he described himself. “That’ll certainly get you in the door …” she teased him.
He tugged her closer and rested his arm on her shoulders, their hips bouncing off each other as they walked along in the dark.
Slade was quietly contemplating their words. He had gotten in the door, but how far would he get with the job he had? His current situation wasn’t conducive to starting something with Deena Rae, especially if his boss wanted her dead. He needed to figure out a way to get out of this mess, taking her with him. But he couldn’t think straight with the scent of her enveloping him. The smell of sunshine and rain was odd walking on the riverbank at night. But nice.
“What are your parents like?” Deena Rae caught him off-guard with the question. He knew he had a strike or two against him—being a bouncer, no education, no marketable skills once the bouncing gig wore off—so he decided to go for honesty. It certainly couldn’t hurt.
“My mom’s a hot mess, but I love her. She’s always looking for her next sugar daddy, even though I don’t think she’s ever had one. But she wants someone to take care of her, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get him. It doesn’t make for mommy of the year awards, though.” He sighed, knowing his next sentence might be the end. She worked with Zack and probably had loyalties to the asshole who had stolen his father. “I never knew my dad. He knocked up my mom during an affair and chose to stick with his wife and remain faithful to her when the wife had a kid who carried some genetic thing.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. And I went to his funeral this week.” Slade said the words quietly and stopped walking, waiting for her reaction.
He watched Deena Rae’s face, realizing she already knew this. She flashed him a small smile of sympathy. “So Zack’s dad is your dad?”
“Yeah. I didn’t get a childhood because he was going to be blind.” He continued walking. “James Ward was the love of my mother’s life, and she always held out hope that something would happen and he’d choose her, but she stayed his dirty little secret and never told anyone but me.” He shrugged, really wanting to drop it but glad she hadn’t pushed away from him. “Does Zack know?” Deena Rae hadn’t been surprised, so Slade figured that meant she knew. But had she figured it out on her own, or did Zack tell her?
Deena Rae shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t think so. I just looked some stuff up after last night when you were so weird about the funeral.”
She tugged him closer with an arm wrapped around his waist. Was this what it was like to have someone’s support no matter what? He could get used to it.
“My parents died in a motorcycle accident when I was twenty-two. I miss them a lot sometimes,” she said quietly. “I had just gotten my criminal justice degree and wanted to get on the force, but my mom never liked the idea of me strapping on a gun like a target on my back. So, when she died, I became a bounty hunter instead. I thought that might be safer.”
“What’s it like working in a male-dominated industry like that?” Slade would have a damn hard time working with her. He’d want to keep her from doing dangerous things, even though he knew she was more capable than a lot of men he knew. But still, as he looked at her tall, lithe frame, her strawberry-blonde hair, and wide hazel eyes, he knew he’d do what it took to protect her. At whatever cost. He’d like to think that’s the sort of man he was, anyway. But Slade knew he was a fuck-up on a good day.
She shrugged. “Better than working at Hooter’s? I don’t know. I’ve never done anything different. Well, except the Pierce Securities thing, but that’s all guys, too, except Miriam. You
just don’t fuck who you work with, that’s the number-one rule.”
“What about Tuesday Night Special?”
Deena Rae had the decency to blush, and he grinned at her. “Yeah, well … Everyone’s entitled to one mistake, right? Besides, we used each other. That wasn’t a relationship per se.”
They’d gotten to the walkway around Congress Bridge, where all the bats came out at night.
“You want to watch the bats?” Slade asked.
People were lounging in the grassy knoll on the side of the bridge. There were hotels nearby and this was a popular touristy thing. Deena Rae backed up to his front, and Slade wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her close, he inhaled her hair, denying the need to caress her feminine curves.
“I used to sing to them when I was little. I thought if I sang, it would be like a Siren’s song, and I could catch one to take home.” Deena Rae’s voice was small, wistful.
Slade chuckled. That was perfect. Most little girls wanted to catch the ever-elusive unicorn. Deena Rae had wanted to catch bats.
They watched as the dark cloud of bats leaving their sleeping place for hunting turned to a trickle, their high-pitched squeaks and squeals becoming more intermittent. Finally, she turned in his arms.
“I’ve had a nice time. I have work tomorrow, so I need to go home.” He kissed her chastely, still savoring the feel of her pouty lips under his, and tugged on her hand to go back to the bike. “But if you want, you can ride around a little before taking me home.”
Slade grinned, grabbing another kiss. “Absolutely.” He would do whatever he could for the feel of her wrapped around him on his bike again. It was like being enveloped in a cloud of Deena Rae, and he liked it almost as much as sex. Slade would fully admit to himself he was feeling more for Deena than just fuck-buddy feelings. Not sure what her thoughts and feelings on that were, he was reluctant to examine them further. In fact, they terrified him a bit, so he would table that for a conversation later.