by Lynn Burke
Loyal and fucking fierce, and I wouldn’t have him any other way. And knowing Hawk would be beside him, assisting in whatever way necessary … I was thankful as fuck for both of them.
“We still have to lay low on the drug trafficking,” I said, drumming my fingers on my desk, determined to focus on the other issues battling in my head.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Hawk said, moving his toothpick around again. “The rental properties more than cover the club’s expenses.”
I nodded, but my thoughts turned toward where they often did when it came to the club making money—going legit. We fed the fucking drug epidemic in New Hampshire, and it had been our shit that Nicky’s sister had OD’d on, swaying him to hand in his colors the spring before. I’d lost my best friend because of how we chose to make money.
“I’m considering going legit,” I said, glancing from one man to the other.
One of Digger’s eyebrows shot up, but Hawk didn’t flinch.
“With marijuana legal as of yesterday in this state,” I continued when neither spoke, “I’m thinking we ought to open a couple lounges—like a bar, but for smoking pot. With how sales have been going according to the news…” I let the thought die off and waited for their thoughts.
“Capone said something about going legit a few weeks ago,” Hawk said, peering at me, but his expression didn’t reveal jack shit of what he actually thought.
“And ever since, I’ve found the idea more appealing with each passing day and every fucking problem we encounter.”
“Digger?” Hawk glanced over at the blond, non-jolly giant.
Digger shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I’m here for my brothers—and none of us do the shit we deal, anyway. Capone grows weed, most of us smoke it on occasion—actually makes sense to clean up our image. Stay out of jail and out of trouble.” His mouth twisted again. “Not that I wouldn’t miss that last part.”
I found my lips twitching, threatening to smile. “You could always be the head of security detail at the lounges.”
“Doubt there’d be any need for skull bashing with a bunch of high, laid-back customers who laugh at everything and think unicorns shit fucking rainbows.”
Hawk actually chuckled. “That must have been some pretty good shit Capone gave you last week.”
Digger scowled at Hawk. “Fucking unicorns… You’re not going to let that one go, are you?”
My lips definitely tugged upward. “I’d suggest keeping your pot-induced dreams to yourself, Digger. Your image is safer that way.”
A snort huffed through Digger’s lips as he sat back, arms crossed. He opened his mouth, but a light knock sounded before Capone poked his head in the office door. “Your burgers are up,” he said with a grin and twinkle in his eyes. The club’s pretty boy was one hell of a cook and had landed a badass woman who happened to be a lawyer—and a damn good one who I kept on retainer. One who’d painted up our image with Deputy Jenko, the asshole cop who had it out for us. Sure, we’d donated to charity a shit ton more than my father had since I’d taken over, but that wasn’t enough to make some look away for when we didn’t.
“Be out in a few, Capone,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Beers for you guys?” he asked, turning toward Hawk and Digger. Both men nodded, and Capone shut the door behind him.
Digger grumbled something about loose tongues while Hawk stood, stretching his back out.
“We can talk more on the future of our club over the burgers,” Hawk said, his face deadpan, all business once more. “And Digger and I will make a plan to trip up whichever club whore is spilling our secrets.”
“Good, because I don’t think I can handle any more fucking problems—”
Capone opened the door—without knocking—and the twinkle and grin on his face had disappeared. “Hawk, there’s a woman here looking for Janie. She’s … uh … beat up pretty bad.”
“Send her in,” I said, my protective nature on auto-pilot when it came to women getting hurt.
Capone dipped his head and turned, motioning someone beyond the door into my office. “Go on in, darlin’.”
My dick swelled for the first time in a long-ass motherfucking time as she walked over the threshold. The woman shuffling into my office had more than enough curves to fill a man’s hands, long, highlighted blonde hair perfect for yanking on, and the most alluring blue-green eyes—surrounded by purplish bruises. Full lips, split and scabbed.
Gorgeous and battered, a fucking problem I didn’t have the time or energy for even if my dick actually wanted to get wet.
“I-I’m looking for Janie…” The woman glanced at Hawk.
“And who the fuck are you?” he asked, towering over her by a good foot.
“Alexa. I’m a friend of hers—” She glanced at me. “From New York.”
New York and Janie… “Did a Demon do this to you?” I heard myself ask through the sudden ringing in my ears as my dick fucking shriveled back to its usual limp state.
Alexa swallowed and dipped her head once, clasping a small purse against her stomach.
Fuck it all to fucking hell.
“Hawk, get Janie over here. Now,” I said, pouring myself another shot.
A Silent Demon, our arch rivals, had beat the shit out of the first woman to grab my attention in over a year. Could my life get any fucking worse?
End of sample chapter
www.evernightpublishing.com/jonny-by-lynn-burke