Checkmate: Checkmate, #8

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Checkmate: Checkmate, #8 Page 17

by Finn, Emilia


  “Motherfucker!” Jay lunges so fast that his fist snaps my head around before I can lift my hands. I slam into the receptionist’s desk, catching myself, but remain on my feet while the rest of the room erupts and holds Jay back. “I’ll kill you, Griffin! I’ll take you out and bury you in a shallow grave.”

  “Dude!” A tall fucker, the tallest in the room, pins Jay to the wall six feet away and holds him down despite his animalistic roar or the strength with which he tries to escape. “If he’s Griffin, he has more money than God. Our lawyers and his aren’t compatible.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about lawyers! His lawyers have no case if they have no body.”

  “Dude!”

  “You don’t hit on someone else’s girl!” Jay roars. “You don’t try to break up a family! I don’t give a fuck how much money you have; money cannot buy the things I have.”

  “Stop.” Soph rushes toward him, slipping between Jay and his captor, and presses her body against his. Thigh to thigh, chest to chest. Her hands come to his face and try to calm the bull. “You need to stop. He’s being a dick, maybe he thinks I’ll respond to the D rather than an above-the-table business proposition. But he does wanna talk business, and I wanna listen.” When Jay thrashes and almost pulls free, Sophia says a word that makes everyone in the room freeze. “Jericho. Hey.” She grabs his jaw in a rough hand and waits for his eyes. “Jericho. You need to calm yourself.”

  He’s like a wild animal. His eyes swing from me to her almost like he’s high and can’t focus. “Sugar Plum?”

  “You need to relax. You can’t kill a man because he’s arrogant and likes my legs.”

  “Yes,” he murmurs. “I actually can. I can kill a man for any fucking reason that I want.” His eyes swing up and stop on mine. “You stay away from my family. Take your tech, take your lawyers, take your money and arrogant ass and get out of my town. Checkmate is cutting ties with Griffin technology – effective immediately.”

  A man I recognize from the hours I’ve spent studying the Bishops steps forward and offers a hand. Eric DeWhit is a former agent, just like Kane and Jay. Maybe he’s the third in Colum’s trifecta. Colum lost me, but he gained another.

  “We don’t want your business.” He leans forward and grabs my hand in a tight grasp. “Walk away and don’t come back. Griffin is no longer our preferred supplier, which means you have no business here. Move off of our property and don’t return.”

  “I want a meet.”

  “And instead, you’ll end up eating through a straw for the rest of your life if you don’t walk away. We do not fuck with families, and you just tried to take his queen. Move along.”

  Jay slams his tall friend back with a rough shove and pushes through the hall into the back room. Something crashes against the concrete floor. Something else crashes. Then with a grunt, he comes back to us with a large tool case type box and tosses a thirty-thousand-dollar prototype at my feet. Bits of plastic and metal snap from the case and rain all over the floor. Sharp corners nick my legs, but Jay remains strong, grabs his Sophia, and pulls her under his arm. “We don’t fuck with families. An hour ago, I’d have squealed like a girl if I knew you were coming here. I’ve got a hard on for brains and ingenuity. You ask anyone around here, and they’ll tell you I was a fan. But then you try to take the only person I live for. Now you walk away having gained an enemy, and it’s never a smart move to anger a Bishop.” He waves to the door. “Leave. Don’t come back.”

  I’m not entirely sure what I expected to gain by coming here today, except, perhaps, to prove that my identity remains hidden. I’ve put a smear on Griffin today, but they have no clue I’m a Bishop too. They say family is sacred, but they have no idea that biologically, we are one. The brotherhood they share, the kind I’ve never known, as Kane once again steps in front of his brother, spikes my anger.

  Fuck.

  I leave my system on the floor and walk out the way I came. Through the doors, along a footpath, over the sidewalk, and then I tear my door open and slide into my car.

  Slamming the door again, I smash my hand down over the steering wheel until something deep in the steering column cracks. My mom’s head slamming against Colum’s desk plays in my mind. Over and over and over again. Run! She was being hurt, she was being raped by those mongrels’ father. The last thing she ever knew was pain, then darkness as her brain spilled out onto the desk, and her son was sent running for his life.

  I was willing to stay away, to stay in my building seven hours away, but then I had to find money that doesn’t belong to them. I had to meet them, and within seconds, they had to throw my mom in my face.

  Why did we have to go to the club that day? I slam my hand on the steering wheel again. Why did it have to go down that way? “Fuck!”

  “Griffin!” Sophia runs around the side of the building as though she came from the garage out back. Frowning, I watch her sprint and cast glances back to the front doors as though afraid those inside might run out and grab her.

  She jogs to my side of the car and waits as I wind my window down. “Dinner at seven.” She tosses a business card through the window so it lands on my lap. “I wanna hear what you have to say. No man controls me, and I know you’re smart. This is a small-ass town, and sometimes the lack of anything except cousins fucking cousins bores me.”

  She’s their weak link. This is exactly why they were keeping her under wraps. Sophia Solomon, the leggy dancer, will be the Bishops’ downfall.

  “188?”

  She nods and turns away with a grin. “Seven o’clock. I’ll dress up.”

  I watch her walk away and reenter the building via the way she came. I wait a moment, as an odd sense of responsibility washes over me.

  If she’s caught talking to me, will they hurt her?

  Will they blow up?

  More importantly, why the fuck do I care?

  She’s a dancer whose ballet studio is the laundry for dirty money. After meeting her and the Bishops, a part of me wonders if they use her as a front. Legitimate dance school and a pretty airhead, send their money through her, bring it out the other side shiny and clean, and should they ever be caught, Sophia Solomon is the only name attached to that business; she’s the only person who will go down.

  Maybe she’s not his queen at all, but his fucking goat.

  And now I care.

  Shaking my head, I switch the ignition on and pull out of the parking space. Passing Checkmate’s front doors, I catch sight of Kane Bishop standing behind them with his arms folded and his eyes trained on the side of my face.

  I don’t look. I give no indication that I see him. I move along, just as ordered, and at six thirty that evening, I dress in my business best and secure the cufflinks on my shirt.

  Libby is off-shift, she’s at home, tucked away safe for the evening, and I’m going to dinner with the wrong woman. It feels wrong to take advantage of Sophia in a similar way that the Bishops are taking advantage. Maybe it’s the blood that runs through our veins, or maybe she’s just the handiest chink in everyone’s armor.

  Whatever it is, I’m going to exploit it.

  I’m sorry, Sophia Solomon, but your piece needs to be removed from the chessboard that rules our lives.

  11

  Sophia

  Put Some Pants On

  “Sophia Solomon, you come out here right fucking now!”

  So dramatic. So fucking loud.

  I pull on my shortest skirt, fasten the zipper, and tug it all down again when it feels like my ass is hanging out. A seven-inch band of leather is the only thing standing between me and a charge for public indecency. But this is my sacrifice for the cause.

  Theo Griffin set off all of my alarms when his finger touched my skin today. He went from handsome stranger to public enemy number one with a mere touch, with a caressing gaze, a gaze I know was as fake as Dolly’s lashes and hot pink hair extensions.

  There’s something there, something heavy playing just below the surface, and thoug
h he claims business, I feel there’s more. It’s the same kind of more I felt years ago when I was studying Kane and Jay Bishop, hoping to recruit one of them to my cause.

  I sat and studied them, too. I watched their behavior for months. Years, even. I watched everything they did on a day-to-day basis, only to finally settle on Jay. He would be my ally, and all these years later, I know I chose right.

  But now this man walks into Checkmate and my stomach jolts. It’s like electricity in my blood, like cocaine in my brain. And considering he was trying so damn hard to get me on my own, I’ll happily oblige… just as soon as Jay stops screaming.

  “Sophia!” He stomps through Jess and Kane’s home in search of me as I stand in Jess’ room and she does my hair with fast movements. Her belly touches my back, her breath on the back of my neck.

  She feels what I feel. She thought I was insane earlier, but it took all of three seconds for her to jump on board, but now I’m about to be found out.

  Being in someone else’s bedroom isn’t going to stop Jay from thundering through. It’s what he does; he thunders, he overwhelms. He takes over, because it’s the only way he can ensure his loved ones will be okay.

  “Sophia!” The bedroom door slams open at my back and makes us swing around. We knew he was coming, but that doesn’t stop us from worrying for our lives. “You are absolutely fucking insane if you think you’re leaving this house in that skirt.” He steamrolls across the room and grabs my shoulders. “You’re not leaving the house at all, but you’re absolutely not leaving wearing your stripper getup.”

  “You need to relax.” I’m wearing my highest high heels, the kind that hail from back when I danced for men, seduced them, extracted information, then had them executed. Those days were, of course, before I officially met and fell in love with Jay and decided maybe I’d like to keep him around, but the fact remains this ain’t my first rodeo. “I’m going to dinner, and I’m gonna need you to sit down and eat some candy.” Jess continues working on my hair in silence. For the first time in her damn life, the loud twin is silent. “I’m safe, I have a panic button, I have a way out. Cruz is gonna be on the door, and I know your ass is gonna follow, even if I tell you to stay home. I just want to know what his game is.”

  “His game?” Jay’s eyes glitter with rage… but deep below the rage is something else. Pure, childlike, heartbreaking insecurity. “His game is he thinks you’re fucking beautiful. He considers you a puppy in the window, and now he’s looking for his latest acquisition. He wants you to dance for him, Sophia. And after you do that, he’s going to keep you.” He pulls me closer so my ear rests against his thundering heart. “You’re walking straight into this meet like you forget that the world is dangerous.”

  “I don’t forget.” I push him back and reach beneath my skirt for the knife he normally carries. “I’m going to be okay. If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn’t have come into the office and announced his shit. If he wants to fuck me and doesn’t understand the word no, then his run ends when I chop his dick off. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.” I cup his face in the way I know calms him. Pulling him down, I press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you. You need to trust me on this.”

  “Marry me, Sugar Plum.” He has no clue the way my heart races for him when he mutters those words. But of course he ruins it before I can give him my answer. “Marry me now. Tonight. We can run away for a while, maybe I can put a couple babies in your belly.” He nods to Jess. “She doesn’t seem to mind.”

  My laughter comes out on a soft snicker, then like Snow White kisses Dopey, I pull Jay’s ears until he lowers and I can press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not marrying you today, and you can’t put babies in my belly for at least another year or ten. Let’s see how this shit works out for Jess first.”

  “I can hear you guys.” Jess tugs on my hair and makes me hiss. “If you’d keep still, it wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Jerk.” When she’s done with the fancy braid she’s been working on, she pats my ass and emphasizes the sound of leather under a smacking hand.

  “Let’s go,” I twine my fingers with Jay’s. “This isn’t like before you came back to Kane, okay? This isn’t one of those missions. This is a desk jockey that thinks money can buy people.”

  “He has Griffin fucking Industries, Soph. He’s richer than anything you could ever steal, he has penthouses and high-rises. He has all of those tech toys for you to play with, and we both know your brain would love nothing more than to hang out with his on a daily basis. I’m not smart like that, Soph. I can’t compete with what he’s offering.”

  I turn and meet Jess’ eyes until, taking a hint, she gives a small nod and walks away to give us privacy. As soon as the door closes, I come back to Jay and slide my fingers through his short hair. “I’m a little offended you think I can be bought.”

  “He has a lot of money, babe. Like, more than we can ever dream of.”

  “Would you leave me for the right price?” I pull him back when he tries to evade my eyes. “Jay? If the price was right, would you walk?”

  “Never.” He slides his hands around my neck and holds me close. “No point being rich if I lost my queen. No point being royalty if you’re gone.”

  “Right.” I press a gentle kiss to his lips. “You need to trust me to feel the same way. We’ve been through the fire. What we have has been tested, and we came out stronger than ever.” I accent each sentence with a gentle kiss along his jaw. “I mean, how many girls would date a man whose father was Colum Bishop? He hurt me, Jay. He hurt my family. My baby sister is gone because of him, but here I am. Still right in front of you, still trying to convince you I’ll be back.”

  His eyes soften.

  “So maybe I’m really, truly in love with you.”

  “Griffin’s father never hurt Ellie,” he murmurs. “Maybe that’s another point in his column and another reason for you to walk.”

  “Jay…”

  “I’m scared he’s going to offer you a super computer and unlimited hacking abilities. I mean, I don’t know what he does with his time, but we know he’s a fuckin’ genius. He’s created the best computers on the damn market, he knows the stuff that turns you on.”

  I chuckle. “Computers and tech may indeed get me going, but you know how to make my body sing.” I take his hand and press a kiss to the center of his palm. “Trust me, okay? Trust me to love you as much as you love me. Lord knows I’m not quitting now that we’ve walked through the valley of death. Come on.” I pull him toward the door.

  “You need to change.”

  I know he’s watching my ass as I walk away.

  “Sophia, you forgot the bottom half of your outfit.”

  “Want me to dance for you when I get home?”

  His lips curve into a filthy grin, but to punish me, he smacks my ass and lands at least half of his large palm on bare skin instead of leather. “If you’d been wearing appropriate attire, that wouldn’t have hurt so much.”

  It really did hurt, but I never lose an argument to this man, so just before opening the bedroom door, I turn and press my body against his so I straddle his thigh. I slide over him the way I know sends him crazy with thirst, lean in, and instead of kissing his chest like he expects, I bite hard enough that he hisses. “You know I like it when you spank, babe. But your plan has flaws; you smack my ass, you turn me on, get my pussy all wet and ready for you, but then you send me to dinner with another man.” I tap the tip of his nose and turn away. “Smart plan.”

  “God dammit, Sophia! Put some pants on.”

  12

  Libby

  Never Get Married

  “Hey, X.” I tuck my phone between my ear and shoulder, kick my pantry door closed, and carry my sleeve of cookies toward the couch. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

  “It’s a busy night, Lib.” It’s noisy on his end of the call. People shouting, doors slamming, chairs scraping along laminate floors. “I’ve got every man out for different ca
lls. Jenny Doyle beat her man senseless, and Bubba’s daddy is currently manning his property with a shotgun. The thing is, Bubba owns that place now, not old man Brown, so I’ve sent Oz over there to talk them down.”

  “Oz?” I drop onto my couch and frown. “He’s still on shift?” I toss my cookies aside and look to the clock. “It’s eight o’clock, X. I left at five.”

  “I know. He was only twenty minutes behind you. We switched out for the day, he went home, sat down to dinner, and then I had to call him back in. I swear, most of the time we’re bored around here. But sometimes, when the moon is full and the assholes wanna test us, every fucker in town wants to get themselves arrested. Oz is back on till Bubba is settled in. I even called in a favor and had a couple guys from the next town come on over. Banks and Leetch are working something for me. But now we’ve go–”

  “Banks is here?” My eyes widen; with surprise, with humiliation from our last encounter. “Drake Banks?”

  “Yeah. He’s a cool dude, said no worries, and drove on over with Leetch as soon as we hung up. I was hoping you could clock in for an hour. Tink called up and said she’s got a situation brewing at the club. Her bouncers have been busy for hours already, and the fighters are away at some camp for the night. I just need you there to show your badge. Someone needs to take control of the situation while I’m here figuring that stupid-ass Doyle boy out.”

  “It’s cool.” Mourning my still unopened package of cookies, I climb off the couch and head to my room. “I’ll be there in ten. Can Tink hold them off for ten minutes?”

  “Yeah. She said it’s not out of control yet, but some dude’s been drinking all day, his wife left him or something. Fuck knows, and despite the fact she stopped serving him two hours ago, he seems to be getting messier.”

  “Maybe he’s on something else.” I set my phone on speaker, toss it onto my bed, and shove my sweats down. “Uniform, X? Or jeans.”

 

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