by Alexa Davis
"And they took the whacked out ramblings of a junkie as gospel truth?" I asked. "They're stupider than I thought."
"Dax, stop cutting Beck slack," she said as she put her palms flat on the edge of my desk and looked straight into my eyes. "He's going to ruin all of our hard work and our future. He's in bed with the North side guys and they're using him to try and break you down."
"So, what do you suggest I do, Riza?" I said as I looked at her. There was fury in my eyes because I had a feeling that I knew what she was going to say but I wanted to hear her say it before I said anything.
"You know what I say," she shrugged. "When there's a weak link, you cut it loose and save the rest of the chain."
"You're saying I should off my own brother," I said.
"I'm just saying that you have to decide what's most important, the organization and its future or the junkie who is going to bring it all crashing down around our heads unless he's stopped," she said as she stood up and put her hands on her hips. "I'm just saying, you're gonna have to make a decision, Dax. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to choose."
"Fine, when I get to that bridge, I'll cross it," I said in an irritated voice. I was tired of discussing this with her and it was obvious that we weren't going to agree on how to handle the situation. "Riza, for now, we're going to let Beck sit in jail. I'm going to find him a lawyer to be at his bail hearing and then we'll figure out what to do next, okay?"
"You're so fucked," she said as she turned and stormed out of the room.
A few minutes later, Kesha appeared at the door asking, "Is now a good time to talk, boss?"
"Yeah, come on in, K," I said waving her in. "Let's talk about this inventory situation."
"Boss, it's getting weirder by the day," she said shaking her head. "Yesterday, I found more crates that we hadn't ordered down in the storage area, and when I opened them they were full of product. But it's not our product."
"How do you know?" I asked. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely sure," she said. "Come downstairs and I'll show you."
I followed Kesha to the basement storage area where we kept the liquor. We had a second storage area where we kept the product, as we called it. Kesha was right, there was something really off about this product. It definitely wasn't ours. The crates were poorly constructed and the product was stored in Ziplock bags, some of which were only half filled. This was a lazy, half-assed job done by hacks, but how had it wound up in our storage area?
"Kesha, how did this get here?" I asked.
"Hand to God, I have no idea," she said and I believed her. Kesha ran the tightest product ship I'd ever seen. She was equally picky about the liquor and never once had failed to come up with an accurate count. I trusted her more than anyone except Riza, and she had no reason to lie to me.
"We have to figure out how the hell this happened," I said. "Let's get the security footage and see who was down here."
"Way ahead of you, boss," she said. "That's the insane thing, there is no footage showing these crates arriving in the storage area. Someone went in and erased the time between the last delivery and the discovery of the crates. It's like they're setting us up or something."
"Can you think of anyone who'd want to set us up?" I asked. "I mean, besides the obvious."
"Not a single person, boss," Kesha said. "Who the hell would do this?"
"I don't know, but you can bet your sweet ass I'm gonna find out," I said as I turned and headed upstairs. First Lydia, then Beck, and now the shipment. It felt like someone was out to destroy me, but I had no idea who that might be.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Brooke
I spent the day figuring out how to stretch the money we had in our accounts to cover another month, and then I made calls to all the clients on my books and encouraged them to pay their past due balances. Then, I worked up a plan for Roger and Jordie to execute at the jail starting tomorrow.
I'd just finished typing up my notes when I looked at the clock and realized I had to be at Dooley's in half an hour. I stood up and looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had installed on the back of my office door after the courtroom wardrobe disaster when I'd tucked the hem of my skirt into the waist band and showed up with my ass hanging out. Fortunately, the court reporter had noticed before I headed in to see the judge. She asked me why I hadn't checked myself in a mirror before I headed to the courtroom and since the only answer I had was that I didn't have one, I'd felt it was a worthwhile business expense to have this one installed.
I looked pretty good. I'd worn a steel grey, form-fitting blouse with a black pencil skirt and black stilettos. It was professional, but sexy. I was glad I had chosen this since I wouldn't have time to go home and change before I met Dax. I swiped a layer of mascara on my lashes and glossed my lips. I'd been at the office all day, but I looked pretty good all things considered. I ran a hand through my hair and messed it up a little before deciding it was ridiculous and more than a little desperate to try and use sex appeal to lure Dax into hiring me as his lawyer.
He was interested, that I already knew. Now I just had to find a way to walk the line between personal and professional. It wasn't going to be easy, but I knew I had to do it. The rest of the firm was counting on me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dax
It had taken me all afternoon to balance the various sets of books, and in doing so, I calmed down and thought about Beck and the situation he'd put us in. I knew he didn't know what he was doing. It was the junk talking. I also understood Riza's concern and anger. There was a lot riding on what Beck would or wouldn't say and on how seriously the police would take him. We knew he was a messed up junkie, but they didn't understand the extent to which his manufactured stories were illusions of his drug-addled brain, or at least that's what we wanted them to believe.
When I looked up at the clock again, I realized I had exactly fifteen minutes before I was scheduled to meet Brooke. There was no time to run home and change, so I took a quick shower in the bathroom I'd built off of my office when I'd renovated the club. At the time, it had been a huge luxury to design and build this room. I'd decided that it would most likely be invaluable in the future, so I'd listened to my gut and gone ahead with the construction, despite the fact that everyone had told me it was insane to pay for a flame-proof, bullet-proof, impenetrable bathroom when I barely had the money to buy the liquor needed to stock the bar.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I toweled my hair and decided that shaving was a luxury of time that I couldn't afford. She'd have to like me with my five o'clock shadow. I pulled on a clean set of clothes, a black t-shirt and jeans, and ran a hand through my still damp hair. Not great, but at least I was clean.
I hopped in the car with five minutes to spare and quickly navigated the streets between the club and Dooley's. I parked around back and walked through the door at precisely six o'clock.
"Hey, Dax!" Billy called. "Good to see you, man!"
"Billy, good to see you," I smiled as I walked toward the bar.
"She's in back," he said nodding toward the private room Dooley's kept available for business deals and clandestine meetings. "You want a drink?"
"Yeah, give me a bourbon, neat," I said.
"I'll bring it back in a minute," he called as I walked through the doorway into the poolroom and crossed over to the door that led to the private meeting space. I pulled it open and smiled as I walked in and saw Brooke sitting at a table in the back corner.
"Mr. Malone," she smiled. "Good of you to join me."
"Ms. Raines," I grinned. "So kind of you to invite me."
"It's the least I could do," she said as she gestured to the chairs around the table. "Would you care to have a seat?"
"Don't mind if I do," I said as I picked the chair closest to her and sat down. Sitting next to Brooke was an instant aphrodisiac, and I could feel myself getting hard as I looked into her blue eyes. Never before had a woman had such a powerful effect on me. Part of me w
anted to get up and walk away knowing that if this went much further I'd be in over my head. But my gut told me to stay, and I always listened to my gut.
"Well, shall we get down to business?" she asked.
"Business?" I echoed. "I thought I was here to listen to your explanation as to why you ditched me at Beso after a perfectly nice dinner last night."
"Well...I...I...oh hell," she said as she blushed crimson and looked down at her hands in her lap. "I can't really explain what happened other than to admit that I got scared."
"Scared? Of what?" I asked genuinely confused. "Did I do something that scared you? Because in all honesty I thought I was the perfect gentleman last night."
"Oh, you were," she nodded. "It had nothing to do with anything you did..."
"Then was it something I said?" I prompted. "Because, again, I thought I was a pretty good conversationalist. I kept up with your intellectual sparring and was as open and honest as one can be on a first date."
"You were...great," she said as she swallowed hard and looked away.
"I've got your drinks here, folks!" Billy called as he pushed the door open with his foot and walked across the room. "You want any food?"
I looked at Brooke who shook her head, and then said, "Nah, man, we're good, but thanks."
"No problem, just holler if you need anything else," he said then looked at me and added, "I'm gonna lock this door behind me so that you're not disturbed while you're doing business."
"Appreciate that, man," I said in the most professional manner possible. I knew what he was thinking and, even if it was true, I didn't want Brooke to feel uncomfortable.
Once he was gone, I turned back to Brooke and said with a playful grin, "Before we were interrupted, you were saying how great I was."
"This is true," she laughed as she sipped her drink. "You were great last night. It’s just that it was all so...so..."
"So what?"
"So, overwhelming, I guess," she reluctantly admitted. "All of this seems too good to be true, and there are a host of mitigating factors at work here."
"What are you talking about?" I asked. I could tell she was holding something back, but I had no idea what the hell it was. "Let go of the legalese and put it in plain language, please."
Brooke opened her mouth to say something just as my phone started ringing in my pocket.
"Shit, sorry," I said as I pulled it out, looked at the screen, saw that it was Kesha again, and tapped dismiss. "Please, go on."
"Dax, I like you," Brooke said as she carefully weighed her words. Then, looking straight into my eyes she said quietly, "I don't think I've ever been more attracted to a man than I am to you. And last night, that scared me."
"What's to be scared of?" I asked as I tried to maintain an air of absolute coolness. "You like me, I like you, we like each other. Big deal."
"You don't know me, yet," she said shaking her head. "And I'm not sure I know you well enough to take a chance like that with someone I don't know very well. Even if I am wildly attracted to him."
My phone vibrated in my pocket again and when I pulled it out and saw that it was another message from Kesha, I swore under my breath. "Sorry, that won't happen again," I said as I shut the phone off. "Please continue."
Brooke looked at me for a long time, then reached out and put her hand over mine and said, "If we're going to actually get to know each other, then we're going to have to commit to being honest. Are you up for it?"
My heart sank as I realized what she was asking.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Brooke
The air between us was thick with tension as I asked my loaded question and watched as Dax considered the implications. I knew that I was playing a risky game of chicken and that if he decided to back out then I'd be left crossing the road alone.
"What do you want to know?" he asked.
"It's more what I want to tell you," I said as I picked up my drink and sipped. The alcohol was doing its job and calming my nerves, but what I was about to do was going to raise my level of anxiety.
"And what's that?" he said darkly. I watched as his fingers tightened around the glass he was holding and knew that he was waiting for me to drop a bomb.
"I got a hold of the coroner's report," I began. "It said that Lydia Banks was killed by a shot to the back of her skull. I've been around long enough to know that that's an execution, Dax. Why would someone want to execute your lawyer?"
"Don't ask me," he said glumly. "Not a clue why she was killed. Maybe for her handbag? Her car? Maybe it was one of her other clients who had a beef with her? Hell, maybe she was running some kind of underworld empire or something? Why are you asking me about Lydia's private business?"
"Kind of defensive, aren't you?" I asked as I leaned back and listened to what wasn't being said.
"Well, wouldn't you be defensive if some lawyer was grilling you about a murder?" he shot back as he leaned back in his chair and looked at me defiantly. I recognized the look as one worn by clients who had no idea why they were being questioned.
"You think I'm accusing you of something," I said trying to back down a bit so that he wouldn't be spooked. "I'm not, you know. I'm simply trying to get at the heart of what happened to Lydia. By all accounts, she was a damn good lawyer and there's no evidence to suggest that she had any under the table dealings. So, her being executed is something completely off the charts in terms of motive."
"Look, Lydia was a great lawyer and a good friend," Dax said as he looked at me intently. "I liked her and at one time I might have even been in love with her, but she and I were from totally different worlds and it didn't work. I still respected her professionally and I think she respected me."
"You were in love with her?" I said, not able to hide the surprise in my voice.
"Yeah, we were an item years ago, before she got hired by the big law firm and got all those big clients," he admitted. I could see that it was difficult for him to admit this to me, but the honesty of the admission gave me hope that we would be able to trust each other eventually.
"I see," I said taking another sip and carefully measuring my response.
"Oh, don't go getting all jealous on me," he said in a way that unnerved me. He was adept at reading people's responses, so I knew I'd have to be careful of where I tread next. Dax shrugged as he continued, "She was great, but we came from two totally different worlds and, in the end, there was no way to bridge the gap. I loved her, but she didn't love me back and she was honest about that. I wasn't good enough for her."
"So she broke your heart?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," he smiled. "But she definitely bruised my ego."
"Kind of like I did last night?" I asked.
"Nah, you just totally confused me last night," he smiled again. I knew he was hiding something more, but it didn't seem wise to push harder.
"You do realize what this looks like, don't you?" I asked.
"What? That you left me standing in the doorway of a popular restaurant wondering what the hell had happened?" he replied.
"No, that Lydia has been executed and you're going to be painted as the heartbroken boyfriend who couldn't let her go," I said. It was a risky move, but I knew that if I didn't get to the bottom of this, we weren't going to stand a chance – personally or professionally.
"Jesus, Brooke!" he shouted as he pushed back from the table and stood up. "Why can't you let that go? I was not in love with Lydia anymore! I'd moved on and so had she!"
"But apparently you hadn't moved on far enough," I said. "She was still your lawyer and you saw her regularly."
"I saw her professionally! That's all!" he yelled as he paced the room. "Dammit, what do I need to do to prove to you that I was over Lydia? I wasn't in love with her, and I sure as hell didn't kill her!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Dax
Brooke's questions had pushed me into defensive mode and now I was furious with her for grilling me about Lydia. I had no idea what h
ad happened, but Brooke was treating me like a criminal. I paced the floor as she peppered me with questions about my relationship with Lydia and whether or not I had seen her the day of the murder.
"I don't know, dammit! I don't know anything about it because I had nothing to do with it!" I shouted at Brooke. She was sitting at the table calmly sipping her drink and watching me get angrier by the minute. It infuriated me that she had this effect on me, but I didn't know how to stop all of the stress and pressure I'd been under from bubbling to the surface.
Brooke suddenly stood up, walked over to me, and stood looking up at me with her hands on her hips. She looked so sexy and beautiful that I had to look away. She read this wrong.
"Don't be ashamed to tell me what happened, Dax," she said as she put a hand on my arm. I could feel her fingers gripping my skin and shook my head to clear the thoughts that had begun to race through it as I looked at her.
"I'm not ashamed," I said through gritted teeth. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"Dax, look at me," she said as she raised her other hand and touched my cheek. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply as I felt a wave of intense desire roll though me. If she didn't get her hands off of me, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself.
"Don't touch me," I growled. "Get your hands off of me."
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said withdrawing the hand on my cheek but not letting go of my arm. "I didn't realize that it was so awful for me to touch you. You must still be missing Lydia..."
"Dammit, Brooke," I roared as I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against my body. "I'm not pining for Lydia, I'm trying to..." Instead of finishing the sentence I bent down and pressed my lips to Brooke's and kissed her hard and deep. She hesitated for only a moment before she wrapped her arms around my neck and returned my kiss.
I brought my hand up and ran it through her silky blond tresses as I kissed her harder searching out the deep recess of her mouth and seeking the soft warmth of her tongue. Her hands gripped my shoulders as she returned my kiss with a fierceness that fueled my need, and I pushed her backwards toward the table.