by KB Winters
“No progress, which fucking kills me, but she’s stable. There’s no reason to think she won’t wake up.”
Mo turned and wrapped Thomas in a hug, closing her eyes briefly as she did. “That’s Sadie. She does things when she’s good and damn ready. Keep your chin up, Thomas.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze and walked away.
When she was gone, Thomas turned to me with a knowing look in his eyes. What he thought he knew; I had no fucking clue. “She’s not angry; she’s sad.”
“How the fuck do you know that?” Terry’s tone was incredulous as he sipped his whiskey. “You pull that out of your ass?”
“Angry Mo is full of piss and vinegar, spunk and fire. She doesn’t take any shit. She got that from Sadie. When she’s sad, she’s quiet and subdued.”
Shit. That was the last fucking thing I needed to hear. “Where the fuck is Calvin? I’m still waiting on that surveillance footage.” My little brother was doing his best to get on my goddamn nerves. I knew he was still grieving the loss of Bonnie and adjusting to being a single father, but this shit was getting ridiculous.
“When I left for the hospital, he was watching Ava Rose and hunched over a computer,” Thomas offered with a shrug. “Don’t know what it was about, though.”
I nodded my appreciation. “Goddammit, he’s going to make me beat his scrawny ass.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Terry offered.
“Thanks.” The last thing the family needed now was internal fighting, so I decided to let Terry talk some sense into my brother before I beat some sense into him. “And Virgil?”
Terry grinned. “Virgil is with Emmett and Nessa, talking with some of those ex-military guys in search of more security we can trust.”
Terry’s words surprised me, but I was also pleased Virgil was taking the initiative because there was already too much shit on my plate and none of it had moved as another week passed. “Good.”
We finished our food in silence, and Thomas, ever the fucking gentleman, dabbed his mouth with a napkin and covered his empty plate with a sigh. “There is something else, Jasper.”
“Yeah?” Every time someone came to me, it was more shit piled on top of the already sky-high shit pile. “What is it?”
“A few of the Green Zone residents have come into Lucky Lopez with…information. It’s nothing beneficial, at least not as far as I can tell, but I promised to pass the news along.” He opened his crisp gray jacket and pulled out a few sheets of torn notebook paper, dropping it in the middle of the table.
I yanked the pages up and scanned them quickly, handing each sheet to Terry as I finished with it.
“A guy in a hoodie? That could be frat boy tourists looking for Lucky Lopez or any teenager in a hundred-mile radius.” It was less than helpful; it was fucking useless.
“But there are a lot of similarities. Designer or fancy or expensive sneakers. Not pricey basketball sneakers, but designer.”
Thomas let his gaze fix on me, waiting for me to respond. “The guy tried to blend in with the hoodie and the jeans, Jasper, but his shoes gave him away to the locals.”
“He was trying to hide but didn’t do a good job,” Terry said and dropped the papers. “Probably not a pro.”
“And on the third page, Edna Mayfield said she heard someone trying to get on the roof of her building after midnight.”
“Who’s Edna Mayfield?”
Thomas sighed. “A sixty-three-year-old woman who lives in the building two buildings down from Lucky Lopez. She stayed up late to come into the club and tell me what she heard.”
“I want to talk to her.”
Thomas nodded. “Her address is below her name. She works at the daycare until four-thirty.”
“Good job. Thanks.” I turned to Terry. “Talk to all of these people and see what you can get from them.” If they wouldn’t talk to us, I’d have Jameson chat with them.
“I’m going to go sit with Sadie in case she wakes up,” Thomas said before he got up and threw a few bills on the table.
“Thanks, Thomas, let me know if you hear anything. I’ll be over there shortly.”
Chapter Six
Mo
Some days my shifts at Midnight Mass passed in a blur. Mostly when there was a big playoff game, football, basketball, or whatever these sports fanatics watched. Days like today, ten hours felt like forty, and I couldn’t stop watching the clock, which only made every minute pass by even slower.
With fifteen minutes left and a lull before the evening customers started to leave, I got busy with my end-of-shift duties that included refilling condiments, rolling silverware into the freshly washed linen napkins, and placing water glasses on each table. It was mindless work that I fucking hated, but it was part of the job. And I liked my job. Most days, anyway.
“Hey, Mo. A minute?” Jasper’s barked command startled me at first, but I nodded and waited for him to approach, watching his big body move with the grace of a panther.
Why, oh why did he have to be so fucking gorgeous? “What’s up, Boss?” Even if deep in my heart, I secretly wished he was here to apologize for dismissing me—again—I knew Jasper well enough to know that wasn’t it. So I kept rolling silverware while I waited for him to speak.
“I need you to work the late shift at Lucky Lopez’s tonight.”
Work. He wanted to talk about work. “I’m at the ass-end of a ten-hour shift.”
“I know, but Thomas hired a bunch of new girls, college girls, and I don’t know them and don’t trust them. I need someone working that I know I can trust.”
My heart surged against my chest at having Jasper’s trust, even though I knew he meant it professionally. Still, it made me feel like I was a part of Jasper’s life, his inner circle, and not just an employee. But this wasn’t about me or Jasper. Lucky Lopez had been Sadie’s special project for months. I loved and respected her too much to let some untrustworthy bitches ruin it.
“Sure. What time?”
“Ten o’clock. Don’t be late,” he growled at me and walked away.
Good fucking riddance. Jasper wasn’t the first asshole I’d ever fucked. Nope, that honor went to dear old dad. And likely, Jasper wouldn’t be the last, but he was the only one I had feelings for. He was the only one I thought of as a friend.
That’s what you get for thinking, Maureen.
Like my father used to tell me constantly, “You’re too pretty to think, Maureen. God didn’t bless you with that fat ass, tits for days, and that gorgeous face for you to waste your life thinkin’.”
At the time, he was right. But six months living on the streets had toughened me up, made me wiser than I was when I left home. Thinking was my strong suit, and as I watched Jasper walk away from me like I was nothing, I thought maybe it was time to stop trying to figure Jasper out and judge him—and his feelings—by his actions.
Jasper’s actions told me that despite the years we’d known each other and the years I worked for him; we weren’t friends.
He was my employer, the oldest son of my mentor, the woman who saved me and helped me find my independence. My occasional fuck for cash. I was his stress release, his convenient piece of ass. I wanted to be more, but I wasn’t. And someday, I’d be good with that. Today wasn’t that day. But I’d have to treat Jasper like he was my boss, not the man I was hopelessly in love with. Well, if I wanted to keep my sanity.
When my shift ended, I went home to reset, taking a long hot bath and then a nap, a dreamless sleep that recharged my batteries for the long night ahead.
As soon as I set foot inside Lucky Lopez, I knew it would be a longer night than I had imagined. The place was already packed, more crowded than I’d ever seen it. Horny men everywhere, hands reaching out for any ass they could find, whether it was on stage, serving drinks, or just passing by. The only real difference was now there were horny women everywhere too. They were just as drunk and just as handsy, with the caveat that “It didn’t mean anything” because they were straight or married.
I strapped on one of the tiny aprons the waitresses used, black leather, which was meant to blend in with the miniskirts or booty shorts so as not to hide all the goodies. People came to Lucky Lopez to see tits and ass and as much pussy (or dick) as possible, and they got it at every turn.
Tonight, here at Lucky Lopez, I had my tits and legs on full display, a beauty queen smile on my face to get the men and women good and riled up to go home and fuck their husbands and wives—or girlfriends.
I flirted, talked shit, and upsold every group I approached, which meant my tips were fucking outrageous. So much that I needed to switch out the twenty and fifty dollar bills that were bursting from both of my boots.
I sauntered up to the bar with a big-ass order for a Jack & Jill party saddled up to the main stage. “Hey, Samantha, right?”
The platinum blond bartender with perfect tits turned with a skeptical look on her face. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“Got an order for two bottles of Dom for the Jack & Jills at the stage.” I ignored the look she gave me and waited for her to get my order ready. I understood. From her perspective, I was a new bitch who’d come in and gotten the best section in the house. I would’ve been pissed off too. It was just her bad luck that I didn’t give a fuck. If she’d been through what I had, seen what I’d seen, she wouldn’t have given a fuck either.
“Here you go.” She set two bottles of 2009 Brut on the bar with a loud thunk that could be heard over the music, and I just stared at her.
“What?” she grumbled.
“Champagne is served on ice,” I growled at the dumb bitch and shook my head. “And we always give them the expensive stuff unless they specify. Bring the 1973 Reserve de l’Abbaye and the P2 Rosé. And two fucking buckets of ice.”
Christ, it was no wonder Jasper wanted me here. He needed me, or they’d be serving cheap champagne all night, and what the fuck was the point in that?
“And if they can’t pay?”
I laughed. “They can, and more importantly, they will.” I handed over the credit cards from the best man and maid of honor with a smile. “I’ll have my tip in cash, thanks.”
Samantha looked down at the bill and back up at me with a frown. “That’ll wipe out my hundred dollar bills.”
“Then you better call Thomas for more cash because I need to switch these twenties and fifties to hundreds. Get the ice buckets first. I’ll find Thomas,” I told her and flipped up the trap door to step behind the bar. “Go.”
She nodded but kept a frown on her face as she walked away, another thing I didn’t give a fuck about. The same way I pocketed all the tips from every beer and every shot and cocktail I poured while she took her sweet- ass time getting me buckets of ice.
“Ice and buckets,” she snarled when she returned.
“Thanks.” I flashed a wide smile at her scowl. “That’s not the face of someone looking to make money tonight. You might want to work on that.”
I shoved the credit card slips to be signed in my apron pocket, stuck the bottles in ice and hauled the buckets over to the party.
“Someone ordered Dom to celebrate the big day tomorrow?”
The group was drunk as fuck but friendly, clapping loudly and grabbing the buckets before they were even set down.
“Where are the flutes?” The woman in the bride sash whined.
“I only got two hands, sweetheart. I’ll be back with them in a sec.”
“Perfect,” she smiled and rested her head on the guy in the Groom bib. “Thank you.”
“Champagne flutes for the wedding party.” Thomas appeared out of nowhere, looking dapper and handsome, with a tray full of glassware and a smile. The ladies swooned, and the men sat a little taller, not wanting to be overshadowed by a silver fox.
“Thanks, Thomas, but I was on my way back to get them.”
“I know, but it seems you’ve pissed off Samantha.”
“Fuck Samantha, the idiot was trying to give me the cheap shit. Besides, she has to change out my tips.”
“Don’t cause trouble, Mo. Please.”
“Who, me?” I blinked innocently, barely able to hold back a smile. “I’m not. Jasper wanted to make sure your new hires were competent, and I just gave her a few tips, which apparently pissed her off.”
Thomas sighed, and I felt bad because I knew he’d rather be in the hospital at Sadie’s side instead of here playing referee for bitchy waitresses like me. “I’ll come with you.”
“Fine.”
My feet ached from going up and down the levels in four-inch heels, but the pain, along with the ass grabbing and innuendo, had made me a little cranky. There was still another hour left before the club closed, and I already had six grand in my pocket. That made it easy to forget about the pain. And the annoyance. Fuck yeah, it did.
Instead of snapping at Samantha, I thought about the cinnabar-gold Bottega Veneta mini tote I’d had my eye on and would be buying first thing tomorrow. Maybe a pair of shoes to go with it.
When the bar closed and was mostly empty except for a few stragglers, I went in search of Jasper to see if he had anything else for me to do before I left. Yeah, okay, maybe I wanted to see if he wanted another fuck. I knew what I said earlier and what I vowed, but I was a weak bitch and a horny one, and he was my very own fantasy come to life.
I spotted him across the back bar on the first floor, his dark head visible above the others even as he leaned in to talk to someone. A couple bikers finished off their whiskeys and, when they left, it was like the goddamn sea had parted, only except for providing safe passage, the sea kicked me right in the chest. Jasper leaned over, wearing a smile—a real fucking smile—for that FBI bitch. The one who had caused so much fucking trouble for the Ashby family and anyone associated with them.
I shook my head in disbelief at first, but as I watched Agent Beck smile up at him, eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the club, my thoughts turned to disgust.
I wondered if Beck was the type of woman Jasper liked, all fresh-faced with a successful, legitimate career. Even her boxy black and white suits didn’t seem to turn him off because he was clearly flirting with her, using his big body and masculine scent to make her brain fuzzy.
He was gonna fuck her; I knew it.
Instead of going over to see if he needed anything, I took one step backward and then another, and another, until I could no longer see either of them. Fuck that. I shrugged off my disappointment and went in search of Hulu, my ride home for the night.
At least I had a few grand in my pocket for a serious session of retail therapy in the morning.
Chapter Seven
Jasper
I should’ve been happy that Lucky Lopez was doing so well. Not only was it Sadie’s pet project, but a legit successful enterprise meant it would be a hell of a lot easier to clean the dirty cash without raising suspicion from the law. And I was happy about that, but the club was at capacity, which made me nervous. Anything could happen, and with a mixed crowd like this one, some shit was guaranteed to go down.
I preferred the peace and relative quiet of Midnight Mass. For the most part, it was the same crowd every night of the week, and the worst thing I had to worry about was a fight over a football game. Or a Lamborghini exploding in the fucking parking lot.
“Damn, bro, at least look like you’re in a building filled with tits and ass.”
Terry appeared beside me with a smile on his face, laughing when I glared at him. “Put that look away. You know it doesn’t work on me.”
That only made me glare harder at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be handling business security?” I growled the question at him but kept my gaze focused on every person who went from the main room to the smaller dance floors.
“Newsflash, Jasper. You are the business, and your security is my top priority. Everything else is taken care of. I promise.”
I nodded because there was no fucking question that Terry was on top of his assigned tasks. He was always loyal and reliable, and now th
at he was family, it all mattered even more to him.
“I know,” I growled at him. “Just don’t enjoy the tits and ass too much.”
Terry laughed. “Kat told me to take it all in because she promised to wait up for me tonight.”
“Goddammit, Terry.”
“You asked for that,” he shot back. “I’ll be close, but not too close.”
I nodded and made my way to the red bar, which was just a smaller room with a red light and nothing but top -shelf booze. Bikers, old-timers, and serious drinkers preferred the distant thud of the music, probably because it made them feel like they were a part of things without actually having to be a part of the party atmosphere.
My lips curled into a smile when I found Addison Beck sitting at the corner of the bar, a double shot in front of her, a cool mug of beer just behind it. I strolled over to where she was bent over her drink, shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Spying on me or drinking on the job?”
She gasped and looked up as if surprised to see me. “This is a bar, and I’m doing what people do at a bar. I’m enjoying a beer.”
“Looks more like you’re drowning your sorrows.”
“Like you give a damn,” she scoffed and picked up the shot glass, knocking it back with the proficiency of a sorority girl. “Your mind games won’t work on me, Jasper.”
I took the seat beside her and ordered a glass of Velvet Fire. “Mind games? I’m just a concerned proprietor, making sure my customers don’t drink past their limit.”
Beck let out a loud bark of laughter. “Suddenly, you’re just the regular neighborhood businessman?”
“There’s nothing regular about me, Addison.” I leaned in and smiled at her, and my smile grew as her blue eyes glazed over with heat.
“Addison? That’s Agent Beck to you.”
“You’re off duty, remember?” I turned to the bartender and pointed at Beck’s empty glass. “Another shot for my friend here.”
“Friends,” she snorted and turned on the barstool to face me. “Is that what we are, friends? And I thought we were adversaries.”
