Jericho

by Tess Oliver

  “Richo, you listening?” Jacko asked.

  “Huh?” I turned and realized that an entire conversation had gone on while I’d watched Roxie’s private balcony show. “Yeah, sorry, the view out there is really amazing.”

  “Five percent in winter,” Reed repeated what I’d apparently missed. “And four percent if the distance is more than two hundred miles.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. We shook hands.

  “I’ve got a deposit to move from my casino on the south end of the lake on Tuesday. Tomorrow night, I’m hosting a party out on the lake. I’ve rented the steamboat out on Zephyr Cove. There’ll be drinks, food and plenty of women.” There was a glint of anger in his eyes as he looked up at me. “You look like the type of guy who appreciates fine pussy, am I right, Richo? May I call you Richo?”

  “Yeah sure, call me Richo.” I agreed to let him use the nickname, but I wasn’t loving the idea. I left his other question unanswered. Gamble wasn’t the type of guy I wanted to get chummy with.

  He paused, waiting for a response.

  “A boat ride sounds great,” Reed spoke up to break the slight tension.

  Gamble clapped his hands together. “Great. See you on Zephyr Cove at five tomorrow evening.” He returned his attention to me. “I think this will be an interesting and productive partnership.”

  I nodded, but I wasn’t too sure it would be either.

  chapter 7

  Roxie

  I slipped the sundress over my head and gasped when a hand caught the hem before it slid down my thigh. Trace had mastered the art of sneaking up on people, especially me.

  His mouth pressed against my shoulder. I shut my eyes and tightened my jaw.

  His hand moved up to my panties, and the usual small, imperceptible shudder of repulsion ran through me. He never noticed the vibration because he never noticed anything I was feeling. He had actually convinced himself that he was a great lover. Hell, he wasn’t even a good one.

  “We’ll be late,” I said.

  “Some things are worth being late over.”

  “I’ll have to shower again,” I said.

  “No, you won’t. I’ll be neat about it.”

  “You’ll have fifty people waiting on the dock for you to show up.”

  He grunted in anger as he dropped his hand. My body relaxed in relief, thrilled to have avoided him again, but then he grabbed my chin. He held my face steady and kissed me roughly. “Sweetheart, you need to be a bit more compliant. There are plenty of girls to take your place.” He stared down at my lips that were now tender from his harsh kiss. “We could just end this and let your brother pay for his sins, and that pathetic little nephew of yours would be left with no one except his neurotic mother to care for him.”

  My stomach turned, and I felt nauseous as he spoke. He always managed to remind me of the invisible shackles that kept me bound to him.

  “What I don’t understand is how you can keep me around when I so obviously hate you.” He flinched at my words. His grip on my chin tightened.

  “Must be that sadistic streak you always accuse me of having. I like to see people suffer.” He released me but stuck a finger in my face. “I will have you tonight, sweetie. So don’t bother to work up one of your fake fucking headaches.”

  He turned to leave. My stomach knotted more as he stopped and looked back at me. “By the way, I saw the way you were eyeing that biker yesterday. Almost didn’t hire him because of the way you two were drooling over each other. Then I decided it might just be fun to watch, like adding another row of knots on the end of the whip. I figure this deal between us will be even more entertaining when I see you lusting over something you can’t have. And that arrogant asshole,” he sneered and rolled his eyes, “the badass Bedlam president, will be easier to control if there’s something he craves, something that is solely mine.” He said the last word with extra emphasis, and it made a bitter taste rise in my throat. “Meet you at the car.”

  He walked out of the room. I picked up my sandals and threw them at the door, leaving a nice mark in the glossy wood varnish. Some of my rage came from the stinging truth in his words. After a year of being Trace’s possession, not being able to meet other men and have meaningful relationships or fall in love had not crossed my mind. No one had walked into my life to spark those yearnings. I hadn’t met anyone that’d made my heart break even more at the dire, seemingly hopeless, situation I’d found myself in.

  The Bedlam president was beautiful, just like Pepper had so enthusiastically pointed out the night before, but it was more than that. Perhaps it was only because he wasn’t a self-centered asshole like Trace, or at least that was the impression I got. Confident and maybe too cocky but he had a humility about him that I liked. When he’d jumped up at the sight of Trace grabbing me, my heart had nearly split in two. His stinging response to Trace’s comment about getting rough with a girl had just made him that much more appealing. I had purposely dropped my bikini top just for him. It was a secret message of sorts. But Trace had made it clear that flirting with Jericho would be dangerous. I wasn’t concerned for myself as much as for him, the gorgeous, blue-eyed man in the Bedlam cut. It was one thing for me to always be dangling by Trace’s thin thread over a high cliff, I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I would have to keep my distance.

  chapter 8

  Roxie

  If there was one thing that was consistent and perfect in my life, besides Easton, it was the lake. The water was always a crystal blue, the towering pines a lush forest green and the clean smell that drifted off the lake’s surface was always like breathing in the air on a brand new, unpolluted planet. It was the one constant that I woke to every morning, and I was thankful for that.

  At least fifty of Trace’s business associates and friends waited with their jackets on stand-by for when the boat moved out on the lake. When I’d first moved in with Trace, I’d kept up a good face for his acquaintances. I was social and congenial and, in general, played the part of the perfect wife, even though we weren’t married. That was one part of my dark pact with the man where his wealth had come in handy. I’d refused to sign any prenuptial, and he’d refused to part with any of his money. Not that I wanted any of it, or anything at all from him. But it had been a perfect way to avoid a marriage contract.

  Pepper popped through the crowd of faces and hugged me. “I was worried you weren’t going to come.”

  “Why wouldn’t I come?”

  “Don’t know. You’ve just been really down and out lately. I’m worried about you, Rox.”

  I put my arm around her shoulders. “I’m fine. And I’m glad you’re here.” Pepper knew nothing about the history of my relationship with Trace. Not that it could be called a relationship at all. It was more of a contract. Sean and Nancy were the only other two people on earth who knew why I was with Trace. No one else could ever know.

  Pepper sucked in a breath as she watched three motorcycles roll into the parking lot for the steamboat dock. “There they are, those three bad boys from Bedlam.”

  I smiled over at her. “Wow, you really have it bad for that tall, black haired lollipop.”

  She watched them with a twinkle in her eye as they parked. “Actually, I decided he was too young for me. As you know, I like an older, more experienced man. Although, looking at that president, I doubt if he’s short on experience. But during the fight, the way that Reed, the one with the beard, went from mild mannered to wild bull with one throw of his fist, made me think he was the man for me. They came into the Candy Strippers this afternoon, and I slipped him my number. Which, surprisingly, he did not rip up.”

  “Pepper, stop. Why the heck would he rip it up? You are amazing and tough and beautiful.”

  She hugged me again. “Oh, Rox, you’re such a doll. I wish I could make things better for you.”

  “I told you, I’m fine. Now let’s get onboard. I need one of those icy drinks with the fruit skewers stuck in the middle of it.”

/>   “Pina colada?” she asked with a smile.

  “That’s the one. Although I’m sure it won’t compare to the ones you make.”

  We walked past the group that Trace was talking to and headed up the gangplank to the boat’s main deck. There was already a line to the bar, so we stepped over to the stern to get a good spot to watch the massive steam wheel start up. The cruise boat’s distinctive horn tooted, letting everyone on the pier know that we’d be departing soon.

  Pepper kept a close watch on the gangplank. She grabbed my arm. “There they are.” She laughed. “Everyone is parting and stepping back as if they’re afraid of them.”

  I glanced over the railing to the gangplank. Jericho, the president, was a few inches taller than his two partners but they all looked menacing with their leather cuts. Definitely out of place amongst the sea of starched designer khakis and polo shirts.

  “I’m sure the patch with the hatchet buried in the screaming skull doesn’t help. They don’t exactly look like boy scouts.”

  Pepper’s eyes gleamed. “No, that they don’t. Thank god.”

  After the bar crowd thinned, Pepper and I got our drinks and went down to the glass bottom view on the lower deck. Most of the guests were congregating on the top deck where food was being served. The best part of these social events was that Trace would be busy bullshitting with people most of the night. I’d be off the hook, for some of it.

  It was still light enough to see through to the turquoise water flowing past the special glass panel in the boat’s hull. Although there wasn’t much lake life to see. The water was deep and, for the most part, icy cold all year long. Crayfish, trout and fish species that I didn’t know the name for floated past occasionally, but otherwise, we were just watching a field of blue.

  Pepper grabbed my arm. “They’re coming down the stairs,” she finished muttering just as the three bikers stepped into the glass bottom viewing room.

  My gaze crashed instantly with Jericho’s. He smiled. Even his smile was enough to make a dead woman sit up in her grave. He really was a sight. Reed, the one who Pepper had now set her mind on, shoved his hands deep in his pockets and nodded hello. He seemed to be the quiet, reserved one of the bunch, an inconsistency with the way he’d flattened those two guys in the Candy Strippers’ parking lot.

  There were a few other people milling about the bottom deck, but otherwise, it was fairly deserted. The smell of food drifted down into the room and coaxed everyone else to go above. Reed came up next to Pepper on the metal rail that surrounded the glass. Jericho propped himself across from me, and their friend, Jacko, headed back up the stairs behind Kelli, a pretty blonde cocktail waitress from one of Trace’s clubs.

  We all pretended to be interested in the view below the glass, watching intently as the hull rolled over a mostly clear sand bottom.

  The silence was slightly comical.

  “I’ve got to say, this is one boring lake,” Jericho said to break the quiet. We all laughed.

  “They could at least dangle a few of those fake mermaids on strings like they do at Disneyland,” Reed said.

  “When the hell did you go to Disneyland?” Jericho asked.

  “Don’t remember how old I was—” Reed pointed to his temple. “But I’ve got the whole damn day on video right up here. Those little fake cars were the best, but the submarine with the fake mermaid made me sick. Threw up on my aunt’s shoes the second we climbed off the ride.”

  “I’ll bet your aunt has that little incident up here too.” Jericho pointed to his head.

  Pepper was exceptionally quiet as she sipped the last few drops of her drink. She wasn’t big on flirting or hanging out with men. She rarely found any that interested her. They had to be exceptionally tough and incredibly masculine. Reed was definitely both. So was his tall, gloriously handsome friend. Just as Pepper wasn’t big on flirting, I’d lost my taste and skill for it as well. Trace had thrown cold water on my girlish needs. But standing with the Bedlam president made me badly yearn for those days of guileless flirting.

  Reed noticed that Pepper’s drink was drained. “We could walk up and get another one of those fluffy drinks,” he suggested.

  She blushed, another rarity for Pepper. “I don’t want to keep you from socializing.”

  “We came down here because you girls were the only familiar faces on the whole boat,” Reed said. “And pretty faces at that, I might add.”

  Pepper’s smile nearly split her face in two. “All right.” She glanced over at me. “Do you two want anything?”

  I lifted up my half filled drink, and Jericho shook his head. They walked up the stairs. Jericho and I found ourselves alone, staring at the very uneventful lake bottom. Suddenly, I was feeling a little embarrassed about flashing him from the balcony.

  “I shouldn’t have done that yesterday, taking off my top like that. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to get a rise out of you.”

  He looked across the space at me. There was something about his face that seemed so completely honest that it made me like him more. “You were pissed at Trace. And even if you weren’t trying to get a rise out of me, you did.” He winked a long row of black lashes at me. “The good kind of rise.”

  My face warmed. Maybe I hadn’t left behind my flirtatious days after all. But I had to remind myself that I wasn’t free to flirt anymore. Shit, I ached for it though. “At first, I told myself that I did it because of the way Trace had treated me in front of you. I was getting back at him.” I looked down at the glass bottom for a second and then lifted my gaze to him. “But in truth, I think I just badly wanted you to look at me.”

  His throat moved with a swallow. He was not expecting what I’d said, and I hadn’t planned on saying it. His honest face and the sincere way he listened had drawn it out of me.

  “It’s none of my business,” he said, and I knew exactly what was coming next.

  “But why am I with him?”

  He looked at me. His expression was non-judgmental.

  “Most people just assume I stick with an asshole like Trace because of the lavish lifestyle, but that’s not the reason at all.”

  Confusion crossed his face. “You love him?” It should have been a statement, but it was a question.

  I shook my head. “Hell no, I don’t love him.”

  He looked relieved and even more confused.

  “It’s complicated.”

  He shook his head with a short, low laugh. Even his laugh was appealing. “There is no more complicated word in the English language than complicated.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Convoluted logic, but I like it.”

  His expression turned serious. “Try me. I’m not only a pretty face. I’m actually sort of smart too.” He pointed to his president’s patch. “That’s why they put me in charge. That and because most of the other club members are dried up, old farts who drink so much they piss out beer.”

  I smiled.

  “Don’t know when I’ve ever seen a pair of dimples like that.” His voice was deep and low, and I wondered what it would be like to hear that mellow tone come across a pillow.

  I thought for a second about how much I would love to confess the whole ugly thing, to get it off my chest and let him know why I was with Trace. “I can’t. It’s not really my story to tell, believe it or not.”

  He looked even more puzzled.

  “Jericho,” I said, “be careful.” I walked over to the side he was standing on. He was big and imposing and even hotter up close. I glanced toward the door. The food had kept everyone on deck. “Trace is a dangerous man.”

  His blue eyes flickered with emotion, but it wasn’t fear. It was worry. “Do you need to get away from him?”

  “No, no, don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.” I couldn’t resist. I put my hand on his. He curled his fingers around mine. His hand was huge and it swallowed mine, but it felt warm and protective, not frightening like Trace’s. “He’s hired you boys on for security?”

  �
��That’s right. Says he’s having trouble moving money between businesses.”

  I knew I was saying too much. I never divulged anything, none of the shady crap I’d seen going on in Trace’s life. I didn’t care enough, and deep down, I hoped he’d eventually get caught. But Jericho needed to know what he was stepping into. “I take care of a lot of the accounting stuff with the business, including setting up deposits and the movement of cash between clubs and sites. Unless shit has gone down that I don’t know about, I only know of two incidents, both minor, where the driver had trouble with someone trying to rob him. Both attempts failed.”

  “He told me that even the armored truck companies had failed in delivering money.”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and I pulled my hand from his. He looked thoroughly disappointed. “Trace never hired any armored truck transports. He uses his own vans and his own trusted drivers. I’m not completely sure what he’s up to, I just wanted you to know.”

  Several guests came down to the room to watch through the glass while eating.

  “You must be hungry,” I said animatedly to Jericho to assure the others of the casual conversation we were having.

  “I am. I guess we should go grab a plate before the food’s gone.” He nodded to the other guests. They all stared at him with open mouths. I held back a smile.

  I headed to the stairs, and Jericho came up next to me. “You sure know how to render a room silent,” I whispered as we climbed to the upper deck.

  “Yeah, never quite sure why that happens.” We were halfway up, and only our legs could be viewed from the room below. He took gently hold of my arm. I peered up at him, briefly wondering what it would be like to kiss a man like Jericho. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “Are you reconsidering the job?”

  “Nope, now you’ve got me curious to see what the asshole’s up to. Besides—” Without warning he reached up and brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. My eyes drifted shut, absorbing the feel of his touch and making me want that kiss even more. I opened my eyes again. He gazed down at me. “I’ve just found another reason to stay.”