by J. H. Croix
Stressed as hell, I stepped up to the counter and carefully repeated the account number my dad had given me, keeping his instruction in mind. The clerk helping me was a young girl who kept looking at the clock, no doubt wishing the time away so she could go on her break.
There was a bored expression on her face until she punched in the account number. Her nostrils flared at the amount that came up on her screen, her small brown eyes widening. “How much did you say you wanted to transfer?”
“All of it,” I said, keeping my voice even. The clerk looked out at me from underneath a heavy, jet-black fringe.
“Are you sure, sir? If you’re not happy with the service here, I could call my—”
“That won’t be necessary.” Dealing with her was bad enough. If she got her manager and God only knew who else involved, I wasn’t sure my stoicism would last.
Dressed to look the part of someone who would nonchalantly arrive at his bank to do that kind of transfer, I felt like the tie around my neck was choking me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even worn a tie, and I was tempted to burn it as soon as I got home.
“Very well, sir,” she mumbled, though her bored expression had turned into nervousness. My eyes sought out her plastic name tag. Welcome to the club, Betsie.
I was the leader of Club Nervous today. Membership: one. Unless I counted young Betsie, who seemed unsure about whether she should call her manager despite me telling her not to. She kept looking over her shoulder to an office behind her.
Deciding not to take any chances, I made a show of lifting my wrist and looking at my watch. It was a large, ostentatious designer thing my dad had given me as a birthday present once. I only kept it because my mother had taught me it wasn’t proper to throw away or give away something you received as a gift.
Betsie glanced at my watch, too, her eyes widening again when she realized its worth. Forging a polite smile when her eyes went over her shoulder again, I said, “I have quite a lot of other errands to run. If we could complete the transfer as soon as possible, that would be great.”
Looking up at me again, Betsie nodded. “Of course, sir. I’m only concerned about transferring this amount of money without my manager signing off, but his door is closed, and if you’re in a rush…”
I understood her concern, but I didn’t have time for it. My skin was starting to itch, and I felt a drop of sweat running down my back. I was ready to have the thing be over.
“It’s my money, right? I can take it wherever and whenever I want?”
Nodding again, she gave me a resigned smile and started typing on her keyboard. It felt like it took forever, but finally, she printed the necessary forms and handed them over.
“I’m sorry for the wait, sir. Here you go. We hope you’ll consider our establishment again for future business.” Oh, Betsie, hell no.
This wasn’t the kind of money she wanted in her bank.
Although, banks probably didn’t care whose money they kept. If it ever came out that that bank had been one of the places Roy Lovett had stashed cash, I was pretty sure they would start caring quickly. Or making a bundle when others of my father’s ilk started using them.
I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know. As soon as I had what I needed, I thanked Betsie and walked out of the building, pushing through the revolving door that was one of the last barriers between me and freedom from that shitty errand.
Hoping my walk wasn’t as stiff as it felt to me, I made my way across the lot to my truck. It was only midmorning, but it was already a million degrees in the shade, the heat amping up my discomfort and tension.
When I drove back to Cypress Creek, I didn’t feel like the same person who’d left. I’d changed in a fundamental way, and since there wasn’t really a tattoo on my forehead, no one would even know.
No one but me. That was going to be just one more thing that shaped me. That time I helped Beau out by moving a shit ton of money for our imprisoned dad. Lucky me.
Pulling into the familiar parking lot in front of the Bank of Cypress Creek, I cracked my knuckles and rolled my neck. The stress of the day was getting to me. Thankfully, it would all be over soon.
When I stepped into the bank, Leila was flitting around from customer to customer, smiling and touching the men’s arms while ignoring scathing looks from the women. She was dressed in a black pantsuit, her curly blond hair pulled up into some kind of messy ponytail that didn’t work on a woman her age.
Her jacket was loose on her, and the white camisole she wore beneath it also loose. It hung so low in front that I could see the red lace of her bra above the neckline.
The air conditioning was cranked all the way up, which was a nice reprieve from outside but had the unfortunate consequence of emphasizing Leila’s nipples. She’d made no secret of her “enhancement,” so I happened to know she wasn’t the least self-conscious about that detail.
I walked swiftly across the old marble floors in the bank, hoping she was too occupied with the other customers to notice me. I was halfway to the counter when my luck ran out. Her heels clacked against the marble as she called out, “Evan, darling. How are you?”
Sighing heavily before I turned, I pasted a fake grin on my face. Today more than ever, I needed Leila to help me and to do it fast. I didn’t want her trying to play my therapist as she had so many times before, and preferably, I needed her focused on me and not so much on what I was here to do.
“Leila, how are you?” I asked when she came close to me. As she’d done with the other customers, she lay a hand on my bicep and squeezed. I twitched, wanting to shake her off, but I held still. “It’s busy here today.”
“It’s busy here every day, darling. Come with me. Let me help you in the back,” she purred, sliding her hand from my bicep to the crook of my elbow as she led me to a counter set slightly back from the rest. Typically, Leila was the only one who used it. She claimed she didn’t like being in her office because she preferred being among the customers. She’d had no problem dragging me into her office a few times, though.
“What can I do for you today, honey?” she crooned when we got to her counter.
I kept my focus on the task at hand and flashed her my usual confident smirk. “Just here to do a transfer, Leila. I’ve got the paperwork right here.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the requisite papers and handed them over. Another bead of sweat rolled down my back. It wasn’t from the heat that time. That moment was make or break. If Leila made a big deal or questioned anything, I would have to go back to my dad and keep the damn money with me until we came up with a better plan.
I couldn’t allow that to happen. Having that much dirty money lying around… Dirty money was bad enough, but that wasn’t only a hundred dollars.
Leila’s eyes widened when she eyed the paper I handed over, much like Betsie’s had. The thick mascara on her lashes only emphasized her eyes, which in that case, wasn’t a good thing. I didn’t need to know she was shocked at the amount of money.
“This is a big transaction, Evan,” she stated finally, curiosity burning in her gaze when she lifted it to mine. The thing with Leila was, as much as she liked to create the impression that she was a bit of a flake, she wasn’t stupid. She was sharp.
I nodded. “Let’s keep it between us, okay?”
After a weighted silence, she nodded. “Your secret is safe with me, gorgeous man.” I didn’t like the fact I needed to put up with her flirting, but I would.
“Thanks, Leila. I’d appreciate that,” I managed to say, keeping my gaze level and my smile fixed on my face.
She shot me a smile that told me exactly how she would like me to appreciate her. But she took care of the transfer right away.
When I got home shortly afterward, I started stripping as soon as my front door closed behind me. I stood in the shower for longer than necessary, feeling like what I’d done today was permanently etched into my skin.
I didn’t like it, but at least it was
done. As I stepped out of the shower, I heard my phone ringing in my bedroom. After knotting a towel around my waist, I went to get it and saw it was a collect call again. Dad calling from prison.
This time, I accepted the charges. My father’s voice was barely above a whisper when the line connected. “Is it done?”
“It’s done,” I told him, running my hand over my hair to shake some of the water off. Even having that conversation was making me feel like I needed another shower. “And I’m done helping you, Dad. I mean it. I’m never doing anything like that again.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sadie
The gray janitorial uniform scratched my skin. It was always uncomfortable, but since I’d overheard that conversation and got hit on by that man, it was worse. I pulled my hair back into a sleek bun and slipped my feet into the ugly shoes.
Staring down the barrel of my first night shift after the man’s offer, bile stung my throat, and my eyes looked bleak as I checked my makeup in the mirror. I knew I was going to have to face him sooner or later, but it never would have been my preference.
Especially since my mind wasn’t on my work today but on what Evan had done. When we talked last night, he’d told me he had to get some money for his dad and was going to do the transfer today. All day, I thought of him.
He texted when he got home, asking me if I wanted to have dinner sometime later in the week. I’d agreed, but I was anxious to see him. I wanted to check on him after today, to make sure he was okay. We hadn’t talked about what we were doing, and going to see him after a difficult day felt like a girlfriend move, but I still felt like I had to do it.
I needed to see with my own two eyes that he’d made it through the deed that had put him in so much turmoil when he mentioned it on Sunday morning. I hadn’t let myself dwell on how I was starting to feel about him. All I knew was, I didn’t want to shut the door to him. Not anymore. Once I knew how it felt to be with him, I wanted more.
Picking up my eyeliner, I did my best to spruce up—no easy feat when I was tired and would have strongly preferred to see Evan instead of going to work.
Why? Why am I headed to work when I should be going to him? I rolled my eyes at my reflection. I was going to work because I needed the money. I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities to check on a guy I liked.
It’s not shirking your responsibilities. Everyone’s entitled to one night off. The inner debate kept going until eventually I fell back onto my bed and watched the ceiling fan spin overhead. I kicked off my shoes and folded my hands over my stomach.
When I closed my eyes, I thought back to how Evan had been there for me when I needed help. I’d been a stranger to him that morning when I called his shop, but he was there. He’d organized a tow for me and fixed my car for free after I told him I worked two jobs.
He deserved someone who was there for him too. And I wanted to be that person. With my decision made, I called in to take the night off and headed back to my dresser to change.
Evan’s house looked inviting with the sun setting behind it as I got there. The lights were on inside and on the porch. Maybe it was knowing he was inside, but it looked homey like somewhere you wanted to come to curl up on the couch or laugh in the kitchen.
Or perhaps have crazy hot sex with a crazy hot guy. I pushed that thought aside. That was not what I was here for. I couldn’t control my body’s reactions when I thought about him. The attraction I felt for him was too intense.
Ignoring that part of me, I marched up to his door and rang his doorbell. When he opened the door, I nearly fainted. He was half naked, wearing only a pair of drawstring shorts. He looked surprised to see me. “Sadie? What are you doing here?”
My cheeks grew warm as I stood there, my mouth dry as my eyes struggled to tear themselves away from his ripped body to meet his gaze. “I’m so sorry to drop by unannounced. I tried calling.”
“My phone’s on the charger. I didn’t hear it.” He stepped aside, his lips curling into a grin. “Don’t be sorry, though. I’m happy you’re here.”
“You are?”
He nodded and brushed a kiss to my cheek. “So happy. Want a drink, or are you headed to work when you leave here?”
“I’m not going in tonight. I called out,” I told him. Following him deeper into his house, I realized I never had time to look around the last time I was here. His entrance hall led into an open dining and living room area and a kitchen toward the back.
The kitchen was light and airy with windows opening up to his back patio. The lights outside were on, and I could make out a wooden table with a grill outside. In his living area were a couple of brown leather couches and a large television mounted on the wall. It was on, tuned to a football game, but the sound was muted.
His dining room table was angular and made of dark wood. The entire space was very masculine, dark, with sharp angles and no clutter. Surprisingly, he did have a few photos on the walls. There were some paintings and some prints of famous landmarks around the world. The floors were polished wood. He kept his hand at the small of my back as he led me to the kitchen, which I found strangely familiar and very comforting.
“I thought you had to work tonight.” He pulled out a stool for me to sit on at the island and walked over to the fridge. “Did they cancel on you?”
“No,” I replied, wondering if I should tell him about the old guy. “I took the night off to check on you.”
His brows lifted when he emerged from the fridge with two beers. Uncapping one, he handed it to me. “Wow, thanks. You didn’t have to do that. I know how much your jobs mean to you.”
I shrugged, taking a long pull of the cold, bitter liquid before continuing. “To be honest, I did want to check how everything went with you today, but I also didn’t want to go to my cleaning job.”
Evan frowned, peeling at the label on his bottle. “Why’s that?”
“There’s this older man there. I think he’s one of the higher-ups. He hit on me the other night, and I’m not comfortable going there at night right now without knowing if I’m going to run into him.”
Evan’s eyes darkened, anger sparking in their depths. “Did he touch you?”
I shook my head quickly. “No, but I think he might’ve tried if the circumstances were different. Maybe if it had been nighttime and there weren’t many other people around. He offered to pay me for a night with him.”
The last sentence slipped out. I hadn’t intended to tell Evan about that part. From his reaction, I could see why it might’ve been a good idea to keep quiet about it. His eyes narrowed, a hard look entering his gaze.
Then out of nowhere, he gave his head a shake and reached for my hand. Gently, he twined his fingers with mine. “I should go over there and kick his ass, but that usually only encourages assholes like that. When you do have to go back to work, do you want me to come with you?”
I frowned. As sweet as the offer was, I couldn’t expect him to be my bodyguard almost every other night. “It’s no big deal. It made me feel like I was talking to my father again. I hated it.”
I could see Evan was about to ask why it made me feel like I was talking to my father, but before I could get to that, the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No,” he bit out. His eyes slid to the door and then back to me.
I squeezed his hand. “Go. We can keep talking later.”
Sighing, he nodded and let go of my hand. I heard him at the front door. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”
“I needed to talk to you, and you weren’t answering, so since I wasn’t in the neighborhood at all, I thought I’d stop by,” a male voice said. It was deep and smooth.
“Since you weren’t in the neighborhood, do you want a beer? There’s someone here I want you to meet. Wasn’t planning on doing it tonight, but you’re here now,” Evan replied. I saw him motioning whoever was out there inside.
A tall man followed him in. He was a least a couple of inches taller than Evan and had midnight
black hair. A blue shirt stretched across broad shoulders, and his jeans looked soft, washed a few too many times.
The bone structure gave it away. No doubt, he was one of Evan’s brothers. He nearly fell over his feet when he saw me sitting there, waving at him. Giving his brother a sidelong look, a wide smile spread on his face, and he all but loped over to me. “Hi. I’m Sonny. It’s interesting to meet you. Who are you, and are you dating my brother?”
My eyes popped open. I tried to regain my composure. “Sadie. Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.” He turned to Evan. “Why have I heard nothing about her?”
Evan’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I’m a man of few words. You’re meeting her now, so what’s the problem?”
“The problem?” Sonny asked in a dramatic voice, and then he plopped onto the stool Evan had vacated to get the door and palmed Evan’s beer. “The problem is that I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. I’m not prepared with the twenty questions, embarrassing stories, or photos of you as a child, and most importantly, Niki’s not here. She’s going to press me for all these details about your lovely Sadie here, and I’ll never be able to provide them all.”
Sonny looked at me mournfully. “You’re going to have to wait for the inquisition and the photos, but I’ve got a couple of good stories.”
I laughed, instantly liking his brother. “You’re forgiven for the photos as long as you make up for it by starting with the best stories.”
“Oh, I will,” he assured me. His eyes sparkled. It was then that I noticed how unusual they were. A part of each was the same color green as Evan’s, but the rest of his irises were blue with flecks of gold.
His gaze sobered when he slid his eyes to Evan. “I promise you only the best stories, but first, I need to talk to my brother.”
The two exchanged a look, and to my surprise, Evan chuckled. “I should’ve known I wasn’t going to get one past you. Not with this. Shoot. Out with it. What’s up?”