Jardin’s Gamble

by Roberts, Laylah

  “You’re already down a receptionist,” she pointed out in a reasonable voice, ignoring the fact she’d been given an order. He ground his teeth together. At this rate, he’d have no teeth left by the end of the month. “You can’t afford for me to be off as well.”

  Fuck.

  She had a point. But he didn’t like it. He let out a breath. What was it about her that stirred the darker parts of him? Usually, he kept them better hidden. Most people probably saw him as the easiest Malone brother to deal with. The most reasonable.

  Or at least they would have. Before the tragedy.

  That’s what the people in his social circle started calling it. The tragedy.

  “Fine,” he said. “But you call the agency and get a temp out here quickly. I don’t want you doing both jobs.”

  “The other PAs will help cover the front desk.”

  No, they wouldn’t. Not unless he ordered them too. They didn’t like Thea and they would like to see her fail. Not that he’d let that happen.

  You just fired her twenty minutes ago.

  Like he’d actually meant it. Although, he should send her away. Maybe Maxim could use her services. Actually, no. There was no way he’d send her over to his younger brother. Maxim was flirt. He went through women like it was an Olympic sport and he was determined to get that gold medal.

  “Fine. But if I see you using that hand, you’re going home. No arguments.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said impudently.

  He just frowned at her as she turned on her heel and walked out. But his eyes lingered over her plump, firm ass in that skirt.

  Shit.

  When they returned to her office, Maddox was nowhere to be found. Thea walked out into the main reception area. He followed, groaning as he saw his cousin sitting at the front desk, his feet up on the desk, arms crossed behind his head as he spoke to one of the firm’s biggest clients. Melanie Arnold was rich, smart, and a total bitch.

  Fuck. Jardin was going to have to do some fast talking and groveling. Then Melanie threw back her head and brayed with laughter at something Maddox said.

  “Well, that’s unexpected,” Thea muttered.

  “Get that temp here now,” he commanded, stepping forward with a smile and a hidden glare aimed at Maddox, who just gave him a shit-eating grin.

  How had this day gone downhill so quickly?

  4

  Using her fork, Thea stabbed her salad with disinterest. The sun beat down on her shoulders. She probably should have chosen a shady area to sit in. Her hand throbbed with pain as she forced another forkful of the bland food.

  “Argh, I’d be looking all sad and depressed too if I had to eat that rabbit food,” a familiar voice drawled. Then a long-limbed body dropped down beside her. His scent reached out and teased her.

  It was pleasant. But it didn’t do things to her body the same way Jardin’s did.

  Or Carrick’s had.

  How could she find both of them so attractive? They were so different. One big and rough-looking but with a surprising sense of humor. The other refined and cold. With a sharp bite.

  “It’s not so bad,” she said, peering down at her salad.

  “Darlin’, it’s a few leaves of lettuce and carrots. Rabbit food. You need some real food. I’ll get you some pizza.”

  “Pizza. I remember pizza,” she replied wistfully.

  “Sounds like you’re in mourning, darlin’.”

  “I miss carbs. But they’re not my friend. They go straight to my ass.”

  He peered down at her bottom. “Nothing wrong with your ass as far as I can see. You on some weird diet?”

  “I wouldn’t call it weird. But yeah, I’m not eating carbs.”

  “Why the fuck would you want to do that?” he asked incredulously.

  “Um, to lose some weight.” Isn’t that why most people went on a diet? “Got to get rid of this fat ass somehow.”

  “If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you diet or talk bad about yourself.”

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked.

  “Nope. I’m too young and hot to settle down.”

  She rolled her eyes, pretty sure he was older than her. “Uh-huh, well, let me give you a tip, women don’t like being told what they can and can’t do. That shit went out of fashion a long time ago.”

  He leaned back, sprawling on the stairs. It should have been uncomfortable, but he looked completely relaxed. He tilted his hat back and stared up at her with eyes that were piercing. Serious. They were eyes that saw too much.

  She resisted the urge to shift around in discomfort.

  “Did it? Where I come from, men look after their women. They put them first. Protect them. Care for them. And they also ensure their women know there are consequences for breaking the rules. For putting their health and safety in danger.”

  “Consequences?” Shit. Why do I sound so breathless?

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Like what? They beat them?”

  “Hell no. Any man who touched a woman like that would be run the fuck out of town, after being beaten soundly. We don’t take kindly to anyone hurting women and children. All the women are protected by every man in Haven. It’s a safe place.”

  Was he for real? Or was he making this stuff up?

  “Every woman in town has a male guardian. Someone who watches out for her. Usually her husband, boyfriend, a male family member. The sheriff fills in if they don’t have that. And every woman has rules to help keep her safe and happy and healthy. And if she breaks those rules, she gets punished. Now, if the sheriff is your guardian your punishment won’t be the same as if your guardian is your husband.”

  “What would the sheriff do?” she asked curiously. This all sounded so bizarre.

  “Dunno. Depends on what you did. He might give you a firm scolding.”

  All right. Didn’t sound so bad.

  “Aren’t you gonna ask what a husband might do? Want to know what Alec would do if Mia put herself in danger?”

  There was a note to his voice that told her she really didn’t want to know. Yet, she knew she was going to ask.

  “Alec?” she asked instead.

  “My oldest brother. The stick-in-the-mud I was talking about earlier. Mia’s his wife.”

  Okay, she was going to give in even though she felt bad for talking about Alec and Mia when she didn’t even know them. “What would a husband do?”

  “He’d spank her.”

  Her heart raced. “You’re lying.”

  He grinned. A perfect grin with a row of white teeth. “Maybe I am, darlin’.” He stood then leaned down. “Then again, maybe I’m not. Why don’t you come to Haven next time with Jardin and find out?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. Fuck, was she excited by that idea?

  “Who knows? You might like it so much there you’ll stay and find yourself a Haven man. Unless you’re hoping my cousin might get his head out of his ass someday and see what’s right in front of him.”

  “There’s nothing between Jardin and me.” Oh, but she’d thought about it. Every night since she’d started working there. But there was no way a man like Jardin Malone would ever look at her twice. Besides the fact he was her boss, he was one of the Malones. Rich and gorgeous, their family had lived in New Orleans for generations. She wasn’t anywhere near his league.

  “Well, then, there’s nothing to stop you from coming to Haven, is there?”

  The truth was, she was way more tempted than was healthy.

  5

  By the time the end of the day came around, Thea was exhausted. Trying to do everything with one hand was harder than it sounded.

  She didn’t see Jardin much for the rest of the day, he’d been in meetings all afternoon. Her brothers went to her neighbor’s every day after school. Juanita was a godsend. Thankfully, the bus dropped them off not far from her house. Still, she felt guilty as hell about it. She wished she had more time to spend with them.

  But she also needed money to buy them
food and clothes. And growing boys needed a lot of both.

  She got out of the town car that Jardin insisted she use to get home. She’d had it drop her off outside her neighbors’ place, where the boys were. Fuck, her neighborhood was creepy in the dark. She walked quickly across the street, her gaze roaming her surroundings. It felt like someone was watching her.

  Her instincts warned her to run. But she knew better. If someone were watching, it would be like dangling a red flag in front of a bull. By the time she reached Juanita’s, her breath was coming in sharp pants and she was sweating.

  Christ. Way to overreact to nothing.

  She knocked on the door. Ella, Juanita’s thirteen-year-old daughter answered. She had on way too much makeup and her clothes were several sizes too small. Hard eyes stared out at Thea before she turned and walked away without saying anything.

  Thea got it. Living in this kind of neighborhood eventually sucked your soul. It could crush you. That was why she was determined to do better for Ace and Keir. She’d make sure they didn’t end up in some gang or dead from an overdose before twenty. They were so smart they’d qualified for a scholarship to go to a private school. They were going to do something with their lives. Be better than she was.

  The sound of the boys yelling greeted her, and they rushed down the stairs, brandishing fake swords, which were actually just large sticks, and horsing around. Diego, Juanita’s youngest son, was with them.

  “Guys!” she yelled. “It’s time to go home.”

  “Aw,” Keir said, turning with a pout. “Can’t we stay? Diego’s mom’s making tacos.”

  And all they’d likely get at home was scrambled eggs and toast. She got it. She wished she had the time to make them proper meals. But she was already dead on her feet.

  Juanita popped her head out of the kitchen. “Hey, chica. Get in here, take a load off.”

  “Hey, Juanita, thanks for having the boys. But we should get going.”

  “Stay for dinner.”

  The boys whooped and took off. Guilt filled Thea. Juanita had four kids. And while her husband had a job, they weren’t much better off than Thea. Yet they always had extra food for whomever walked through their door. They were good people. They took great care of their kids and it was clear they loved each other. Thea often found herself jealous of the way Juanita’s husband looked at her, like she was his whole world.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Juanita told her. “There’s plenty of food. Sal’s working a double shift, so he won’t be home until later. Sit. Tell me what’s happening.”

  An hour and a half later, her belly full with good food and her heart lightened with friendship, she made her way down the street with the boys. She blamed her inattention on her sleepy state and that’s why her danger radar didn’t go off as soon as they stepped into the rundown house that their landlord took great pleasure in charging them rent for while never doing anything to fix up the place. And that included the holes in the roof that leaked when it rained.

  She opened the door, ducking just in time as a fist swung at her face.

  “Boys, bedroom. Now!” she screamed, backing away and blocking the next swipe at her face. At least he was only using his fists. One time, he’d greeted her with a baseball bat and broken her arm in two places. It still ached on cold days.

  Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed with rage. The fact that she’d managed to escape his meaty fists only stirred his fury. She dodged back as the boys raced out of the room. They knew what to do when the bastard got like that.

  Get the fuck away from the psycho.

  The stench of bourbon and piss filled the air, making her gag. Her dad was dressed in a holey, white wife-beater, pit stains under the arms. His jeans sagged off him. His muscle might be turning to fat and his body might be deteriorating from years of abuse, but he still had a good hundred pounds and a whole foot of height on her.

  Plus, he was a nasty son of a bitch with zero morals.

  “Where’s my money, bitch!” His face was red, mottled.

  She forced herself not run off. She couldn’t escape him. Not with the boys in the house. She just had to keep him away from them, and survive as best she could.

  He lunged out at her, his hand pulling back to crack across her face. She ducked and dove forward, tackling him. Her skin crawled where she touched him. And she only managed to push him over because he was already unsteady from hours of drinking before they’d gotten there.

  She’d gotten rid of all the booze in the house, so he’d obviously brought it with him.

  He roared and climbed to his feet as she shifted away. But her foot connected with the arm of a chair and she toppled over, unable to catch herself on the ridiculous heels she wore.

  “I know you took it, bitch! I need my money!”

  She had no idea what money he was talking about since he never had any. Other than what he stole from her, that was.

  She scrambled backward as he made his way over to her, breath heaving from his chest.

  “I want my fucking money.” He reached down, grabbing her shirt and ripping the front, exposing her plain, cotton bra. His gaze fixated on her chest.

  Her heart raced, fear making it hard for her to think. To react. He’d never touched her like that before. He’d bruised her, made her bleed, made her dream time after time of revenge, of escape.

  But he’d never hurt her sexually.

  Something shifted in his face. Something calculating.

  “Maybe there’s another way. Maybe I don’t need the money. Maybe he’ll take you instead.” He started cackling as she stared at him in shock. Had he finally lost it?

  “Yeah, ’bout time you paid me back after I fed and sheltered you all these years.”

  Yep, he’d lost it. Fed and sheltered her? She’d taken care of herself all these years. With no help from him. In fact, he’d been more of a fucking hindrance.

  If it weren’t for the boys, she’d have left a long time ago.

  Reaching down, he grabbed her sore hand before she could stop him. “What’s this? Got a little boo-boo?”

  He squeezed until she screamed in pain. A satisfied smirk crossed his face. He wouldn’t be happy until he’d exacted his pain. Using her other hand, she dug her nails into his wrist to try to force him to let go.

  “Get the fuck away from me,” she yelled at him.

  He loosened his hold on her hand only to grab hold of her neck, pressing her to the floor. His hand tightened around her neck until she knew it would bruise, until dark dots danced in front of her eyes. She couldn’t breathe. Shit! He was going to kill her!

  “Pathetic bitch.”

  He let go of her. She lay still, gasping. She couldn’t risk incurring more of his wrath. Not when she had the boys to think of. If anything happened to her . . .

  He stepped back, chuckling to himself and stumbled over to where her purse was. She didn’t even bother protesting as he searched around inside it, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill. She knew better than to keep anything more in there.

  Her cash supply was hidden safely away from his greedy hands.

  On his way out the door, he grabbed the nearly empty bottle of bourbon, drank the rest then threw it against the wall. It landed with a crash, but she didn’t even flinch. Small price to pay.

  Her entire body shaking from the aftermath, she used a chair to pull herself onto her feet. Her hand was throbbing, her throat ached. But he was gone. She tugged the ends of her shirt together. Great. Seemed her best outfit was now ruined.

  After quickly checking on the boys, who’d followed her instructions exactly and hidden themselves under the bed with their tablets and headphones, which she’d had to work an extra job for months to afford. She managed to get them out, telling them it was bedtime. Without a word, they got into their pj’s and got into bed.

  Then she popped some painkillers before hopping in the shower. By the time she got out, her trembling had ceased and the throbbing in her hand was down to a dull ro
ar.

  After getting into her pajamas, she put some more cream on her hand. She’d leave the bandage off to let it breathe for a bit. Another blister had popped. She’d need to be careful not to let it get infected.

  She examined her neck in the mirror. Fuck, was it going to bruise? She’d have to find something high-necked in her closet. This wasn’t her first rodeo so she had a couple of possible tops she could use.

  After checking on the boys, who were fast asleep, she slid into bed and grabbed her phone, surprised to find two voice messages. One from an unknown number. The other from her boss.

  She played the one from the unknown number first.

  “Hi, Thea. This is Carrick. From earlier. I’m the guy with your car.” He cleared his throat and she had to grin at the note of nervousness in his voice. “Anyway, wanted to let you know I started working on it tonight. It’s got a blown head gasket and worn disc brakes. Hopefully, it will be fixed by this weekend and we can go on that date. Anyway, uh, I’ll call tomorrow night with an update. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite . . . Jesus, can’t believe I just said that.”

  The call ended, and, despite the day she’d had, she found herself grinning.

  Then she played the next message, tensing up, unsure why her boss would be calling.

  “Thea. It’s Jardin. Malone.”

  Her eyebrows rose. Her normally unflappable boss sounded almost unsure of himself.

  “I called to tell you that I won’t be in until ten as I’m meeting with Eric Henderson.”

  She frowned. Had he forgotten she did his schedule? She already knew this.

  “Make sure you’re in on time.”

  Thea rolled her eyes with a sigh. Be late one time . . . what about all the times she’d been early? Did they count for nothing?

  “And, uh, make sure you put cream on that hand and get some air on it. Then bandage it again. Good night.”

  Well, that was weird.

  6

  Shit. Shit. Shit.