Absolute Trust (Absolute Power Duet Book 2)

by Jeana E. Mann

“I’m sure you already know.”

  “I know the basics, but I’d like to hear the details from you.” Although her words are polite, her tone carries subtle undertones of sarcasm. The office is cool and dark, decorated in muted shades of beige and gold. “We have plenty of time. The client won’t be here for at least an hour.” She claims the seat behind the desk, crossing her long legs at the knee, and gestures toward the chair across from her. I sit, feeling pudgy and awkward next to her aloof blonde chic. “Goodness. The last time we were together, you had your tongue halfway down my throat.”

  A heated blush scalds my face. Why does she make me feel like a third grader in the middle of a school playground? “I—I—that was part of the con. You—you know that.” The memories of that night come rushing back. It had been my first heist. After days of begging, Callie let me tag along with her to an ultra-elite masquerade ball at a voyeur club in London. I had been a last-minute addition to the team, sent without Cash’s knowledge or permission. Realization dawns on me. That’s why he didn’t tell me about Athena. He doesn’t know we’re acquainted.

  “Oh, believe me. I’m not complaining.” Her gaze drifts over the cleavage exposed by the low neckline of my dress. “I haven’t tasted anything so sweet before or since.”

  To blend in with the other members of the club, I had made out with Athena. I shift uncomfortably in the chair, wishing I’d worn something less revealing. “As I recall, an hour later, you threatened to shoot me between the eyes.”

  “Oh, that.” She waves a hand tipped with long, red fingernails through the air. “In my defense, you almost screwed up the entire mission. Imagine how I felt, having an amateur thief added to my team without my permission.”

  “You pointed a gun at my head.”

  “I take my work very seriously.” Her shrug demonstrates her diminished regard for human life. “And let’s not forget—your sister knocked me out and left me behind. In my world, those are three unforgiveable sins.”

  A shiver of fear races down my spine. Athena would’ve enjoyed killing me that night. I’d be dead if Callie hadn’t coldcocked her. We dragged Athena into the bushes, stole a car, and made our escape. At Heathrow Airport, Callie gave me the key to her safe deposit box, hugged me, and told me to start a new life. We went our separate ways, and I never saw her again. I swallow down the lump that always appears when I think of our goodbyes. My life changed forever that night.

  Athena watches my internal struggle with predatory interest. I clear my throat. She doesn’t deserve to know my thoughts. “So what happens now?”

  She takes her time before answering, pausing to flip her shiny hair over her shoulder. “Well, Cash says killing you is off the table. Which was very disappointing, I might add. So I guess we’ll have to call a truce for the time being.” Her long eyelashes lower, hooding her eyes, but her lecherous thoughts remain visible. “He’s very taken with you, and now I remember why.”

  Sitting across from her, hearing her suggestive tone, makes me wish for a hot shower and a can of disinfectant spray. I squelch a shudder. I’m repulsed because she’s a psychopath, not because she’s a woman. Although I prefer men, I find women attractive, too. I’d been exploring my sexuality that night in London and enjoyed Athena’s kisses. Before she tried to kill me. My choices today, however, are limited. Like it or not, I need to learn the ropes of this business from her. I square my shoulders. “This is all very informative, but I’m a busy woman.” I glance down at my watch. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

  “Right, boss.” Her eyebrows lift in amusement. “Our customer today is a sheik from the Middle East. He’s bringing wife number eighteen to pick out an anniversary gift.”

  “And where is the appointment calendar?” The desk is bare except for a notepad and pen. No computer. No phone. No filing cabinet.

  “Up here.” She taps her temple. “Cash will let you know when to be here. We don’t do inventory or accounting. No records means no way to trace the parties involved.” Her tone turns bored, like she’s reading from a script. “All transactions are paid in cash or via wire transfer to an overseas bank account. The vault is in the basement. I’ll give you a personalized code before you leave. Your job is to get the customer in and out quickly, efficiently, and with no fuss. We used to do house calls, but that got a little messy.” The castors on her leather chair roll noiselessly over the wood floor as she pushes back from the desk and uncrosses her legs. “Let’s head to the gallery. I’ll show you the ropes, so to speak.” She winks at me over her shoulder.

  Inside the gallery, the purple velvet chaise is the first thing I see. My temperature rises a few degrees at the memory of all the dirty things Cash did to me in this room. I use my notepad to fan my face.

  Athena halts so quickly I almost run into her back. “That’s odd.” I follow her gaze to the floor. Long scratches mar the pristine pine hardwood. Scratches created by the slide of the chaise legs across the floor as Cash fucked me. Her brow furrows. “I wonder how those got there?”

  Fifteen

  Cash

  After a visit to the runaway shelter, I walk down the street, head bowed, typing notes into my phone. I’m pleased with the progress of the establishment. The kids are doing well. One of our prodigies is graduating from college with a degree in social work and returning next year to work for us. I don’t have many good things to mark the course of my life. But this—Chelle’s Shelter—fills me with pride. If I can save one teenager from the danger and uncertainty of living on the streets, my sacrifices have been worthwhile.

  My Range Rover is parked down an alley a few blocks from the shelter. I do my best to keep a low profile. I have too many enemies. Most of the time, Gage is with me, but he’s in Chicago today, taking care of a few loose ends. I turn into the alley, still gazing at my phone, not paying attention. I reach for the handle of the vehicle to access the keyless entry, but someone steps in front of me.

  “Cash.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck lift. I know that voice. Soft, low, feminine. Dark, sparkling eyes stare back at me. I clear my throat, stalling for time to control my surprise before it shows on my face. “Hey, Cal. What’s up? Long time.”

  “I know. I planned it that way.” She’s taller than I remember, a few years older, but just as beautiful as the day we met. I’ll never forget watching her on the stage of that strip club, almost naked, dancing her heart out for a few measly dollars, or the way my throat went dry before our first kiss.

  “Does your boyfriend know you’re here?” The only time I met Nikolay Reznik Tarnovsky, he threatened my life if I came after Calliope.

  “He’s my husband now, and yes, he knows.” Her sleeveless shirt shows toned biceps and shoulders.

  I wait for a surge of sexual attraction that never arrives. Any romantic feelings for her died years ago. Now, all I’m left with is deep sadness over our bitter feud. “Congratulations. I hope he’s treating you well.”

  “Like a queen.”

  “I never thought I’d see you again.” I expected to be filled with fury and hate over the stolen money, my wounded ego, the way she humiliated me. Instead, a warm affection swells in my chest. Maybe because she looks so much like Jagger. I want to make peace, but my pride won’t let me. “Are you here to pay me back the money you stole?”

  “We both know that I earned that money.” Her tone is quiet but adamant. “You never paid me for my work. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d still be a petty criminal living out of his car.”

  Her accusation is fair, but my ego won’t let me concede the point. Not yet. “I gave you everything you ever needed—a home, clothing, a purpose.”

  “You took me for granted, Cash. You treated me like a servant.” The pain in her voice cuts into my chest. “When we first got together, you promised me a future, independence, and security. I had no idea that I was leaving one kind of bondage to enter into another.”

  “I gave you all those things.”

  “Everything I ha
d belonged to you.” Her conversational tone escalates to a shout. “You kept me poor and secluded. I had no way to pursue my dreams. That’s not freedom. It’s prison.”

  I inhale a sharp breath. Why has it take so long for me to see the reality? My intentions toward her had been honorable, but the execution flawed. “All you had to do was ask. I would’ve given you anything.”

  “I did ask. Repeatedly. You were always too busy avenging Chelle to listen.”

  It’s true. All I can do is hang my head. I lean back against the car and shove a hand through my hair. Cal deserved every penny of the two hundred grand. Twice that, if I’m being honest. And I made her little sister pay for the debt. The shame of my actions is overwhelming. Her relentless stare is filled with hatred. I deserve every bit of it. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I—” I want to tell her that I returned the money to Jagger, but she cuts me off.

  “It’s too late for apologies.” Her dark eyes lock with mine. “But I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here because of Jagger.” She slides her hands into the pockets of black skinny jeans that show off her curves. “I know you’ve got her, and I want you to let her go.”

  “No. No way.” A swell of possessiveness clouds my thoughts.

  “I’m not asking, Cash. Whatever grudge you have against me is between us. She’s got nothing to do with it. Let. Her. Go. I have a briefcase with two hundred thousand dollars in cash back at my car. You can have it. I’ll do whatever you ask in exchange for her freedom.”

  “Keep your money, Cal. I gave it all back to Jag a while ago—with interest. She’s with me because she wants to be.” I study her face with its straight nose and pointed chin. A flicker of surprise flashes across her dark eyes then extinguishes. She always was a master of hiding her emotions. Maybe that’s one of the reasons we drifted apart—we’re both shit at expressing our feelings. “If you’re so concerned about Jagger, why aren’t you having this conversation with her?”

  Her gaze flicks away from mine. “My husband and I have a lot of enemies. Our work is—complicated. I wouldn’t want to lead my adversaries to her.”

  “But you don’t mind leading them to me?”

  Those dark eyes return to my face and stare pointedly into me. She shrugs. “You can take care of yourself. She can’t.”

  “I think you underestimate her.”

  “She’s a kid.”

  “She’s a grown woman—smart and talented.” My pride swells again, but this time it’s for Jagger and all she’s accomplished. “If you had stuck around for her, you’d know that.”

  At my intentional jab, she winces. “I did what I thought was best for her. A clean start—a new life—free from all the bullshit of our worlds.” The annoyance in her sigh reminds me of our past arguments. “And, once again, you’ve fucked everything up for me.”

  “You could have me terminated with the snap of your fingers.” Nicky Tarnovsky is deep into the Russian mafia. Her brother-in-law, Roman Menshikov, is an exiled prince, arms dealer, and one of the richest men in the world. Although I’m powerful, her realm eclipses mine.

  “I thought about it. As much as I hate you, we have history, and some small part of me will always owe you for saving me from a life of drugs and prostitution. That’s the other reason I’m here. As a courtesy.” A light wind lifts the ends of her hair. She tucks it behind her ears in a gesture Jagger often uses, reminding me to respect their relationship.

  “Jagger is free to go whenever she likes.” Saying the words aloud creates a stabbing pain through my heart. I can’t imagine my future without her in it. I’ll do anything to keep her.

  “She’s a good girl, Cash. She deserves a normal life. Neither of us—you nor me—can give that to her.”

  “And what if I could give that to her? What would you say then?”

  She exhales. “I’d ask you to reconsider. Trouble is coming for you, Cash Delacorte. My inside contacts at the FBI tell me that a huge sting operation is about to happen, and your name is at the top of their list.”

  Sixteen

  Jagger

  At the end of my first day at Dark Desires, I’m emotionally exhausted. Once I’m safely inside my car, I start to text Cash about Athena then stop. My addition to Callie’s jewel heist had been a last-minute surprise for Athena. Maybe she never told Cash about my participation to save her pride. She’s a clever woman. I wouldn’t put it past her to withhold this tidbit to use against me at a later date. The more I consider this line of strategy, the more it makes sense. I decide to keep my mouth shut until I can unravel her scheme.

  Before returning to Cash’s house, I stop to see Mr. Mercer. His face lights up when I enter his room. “Hey, you,” he calls out to me from his wheelchair in the scrubby patch of weeds they call a garden.

  “Hi.” I bend down to give him a hug. “You look good today.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” His cheeks are freshly shaved and glow with color. He’s wearing his uniform of a plaid shirt and gray trousers. “Come sit with me.” I perch on the park bench next to him. “How’s Cash? Emeline? Have the two of you reconciled?”

  “Things are shaky, but we’re talking.”

  “Excellent. I know how close you are, and it broke my heart to see you so upset.” He lifts a crooked index finger. “But first, I have good news. The doctor says I can go home soon.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.” I launch off the bench to give him a second hug. “Congratulations.”

  “Yes. Good news.” His lined face beams. “Now, give me the scoop—as you kids say—on your life. I want all the details.”

  I update him on the store business, Cash, and Em. Talking with him always lifts my spirits. He’s the voice of reason in my chaotic life. After our conversation, I kiss his cheek and seek out the facility director. She’s a rosy faced woman with a sixties beehive hairdo and spectacles on a chain around her neck.

  “Yes, Mr. Mercer can leave next week. However, the doctor won’t release him unless he has supervision. A family member or perhaps a live-in companion.”

  “Does he know this?” My happiness for his impending freedom is dampened by reality. He has no one to live with him. The long stay at the nursing home has drained his bank accounts; hiring a nurse is an impossibility. I want to take him in, but my current living arrangement makes it impossible. My heart is heavy at the thought of having him in an institutional setting for so long. I’ll have to talk with Em and see if we can work something out. Maybe we can share the responsibility of staying with him, taking turns.

  I shake the woman’s hand at the nursing home exit. “Thank you. I appreciate your time. I’ll talk with Mr. Mercer and see if we can arrange suitable care.” There has to be a way to make this work. On my walk to the parking lot, my thoughts whirl in search of answers. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him out of this place.

  In the distance, I hear a man call my name. “Jagger. Ms. Jones.”

  I turn in the direction of the voice. Agent Warren jogs toward me. Despite the hot weather, he’s wearing a green polyester suit jacket. The ends of his black tie flutter in the breeze. I exhale a heavy sight. Great. Not what I need at this moment. “I’m in a hurry, Warren.”

  “Please, I just need a minute of your time.” He’s out of breath by the time he reaches my side.

  I keep walking. “If you have questions, you can contact my attorney.”

  “This is off the record. Please.” Something in his tone is different. He sounds desperate.

  “You’ve got one minute.” I lean back against the fender of my car. Cross my arms over my chest. “Go.”

  “Your ex-boyfriend, Kyle. Did you know he’s dead?”

  A range of conflicting emotions punch me in the gut. My fear and hatred of Kyle wars with the memories of the few good times we shared. In the beginning, we’d been in love. He’d been funny and kind and thoughtful until drugs and alcohol consumed his life. I wait for tears, but they don’t arrive. All I feel is relief. “No. I didn’t know, but we haven’t
been in contact for a long time.”

  “Look. I know what he did to you.” Empathy shows on his face. “My sister was a victim of domestic violence. No one understands better than me.”

  “I doubt that.” I glance at my watch. “Ten seconds.” As the warning echoes in my head, I’m reminded of Cash. He’s rubbing off on me.

  “You hated him.”

  His statement spurs me to take inventory of my feelings. I shake my head. “I dislike what he did to me. I was afraid of him, but I never wished for him to die.” It’s a blatant lie. As I recovered in the hospital from a broken collarbone, fractured ribs, and a concussion, I’d plotted all the ways I’d separate Kyle from his life after my release. Luckily, he’d been sent to jail before I could do anything stupid.

  “What about your boyfriend? Cash? Did he do this?”

  “Do you have any evidence or is this a fishing expedition?” I don’t trust this guy at all. Unless he has definitive proof, I’m going to assume Cash is innocent.

  Warren glances at his feet then up to my face. “I was hoping you could help me with that.”

  “Time’s up.” I stick the car key in the door lock, preparing to leave, but I don’t deny that Cash is my boyfriend. After the past few days, he feels like my boyfriend. I care about him, and I’m beginning to believe he cares about me, too. I open the car door and slide behind the steering wheel.

  “I’m worried for your safety, Jagger. Bodies are piling up around you. Delacorte is a loose cannon.” Warren leans down to peer at me. “How do you know you won’t be next?”

  The driveway to Cash’s house is lined with trucks and motorcycles, forcing me to park next to the gate and walk up to the house. My feet ache from standing in high heels all day. Every step sends shooting pain up my legs. My temper is frayed from dealing with Athena and Warren. My heart aches for Mr. Mercer. Now I have to deal with two dozen burly bikers when all I want is a hot bath and an escape from reality.