“Yeah, well, I’ve seen my share of crap, too, Wildcat. You can’t predict someone’s actions. Sometimes people surprise the shit out of you, in the worst way possible.”
The haunted expression settled over his features again, the one she’d seen when they’d had breakfast together and she wanted to ask him what the hell had happened to Melissa, but they didn’t have time right now.
They had to stay focused, so she tried to change the subject. “I appreciate the concern, but it isn’t necessary.” Daisy sighed. “I get off in twenty minutes and I’ll lay low until then, I promise. Then, I’m meeting up with suit guy for a drink. I’m going to see what connection he has to the club.”
“You gonna fuck it out of him?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Cowboy.”
He opened his mouth, as though about to say something, then clamped it shut. “You’re right. What you do is none of my damn business. You’ve made that very clear.” With that, he walked away from her and went back inside. She wanted to chase after him, but wouldn’t let herself.
Daisy settled for slamming her fist into the wall with a curse.
* * *
After Daisy finished her shift, she didn’t have the chance to speak with Cowboy, because she had to meet with suit guy. Kent had “come to collect her” and she’d followed his Lexus to the Lone Star Winery, an upscale establishment about a half an hour from the club. After they’d arrived, she’d gone to the restroom while he secured a table.
The winery had an outdoor seating area, situated on a rustic patio near a creek, with an impressively beautiful view of a lush vineyard. Dressed in the waitress uniform she’d worn to the strip joint, she felt conspicuously out of place, but he seemed to fit right in with his pinstriped charcoal suit.They took seats on the corner of the patio, near the creek.
“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?” he mused.
“Yes,” she said, forcing a pleasant smile. The military had trained her to be direct and to the point in these sorts of situations, but the nature of her business at the moment called for a more covert strategy. While meaningless small talk didn’t appeal, she’d go along with it if she got some information.
She noted two men in suits at the table opposite them, both of them nodded to her, and she could see from the slight bulges in their jackets, they carried weapons.
“Private security.” Her nodded to the guards. “They belong to you?”
Andrew smoothed a hand through his dark hair. “Of course. One can never be too careful.”
Private security didn’t come cheap. Though judging by his lavish wardrobe, and designer taste in accessories, he had some serious cash. “They weren’t at the Palace.”
“No, they weren’t,” he said, meeting her eyes.
She waited for him to elaborate.
“My employers tend to frown on men other than themselves being armed. I texted the guards my destination, shortly after we pulled out.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And who exactly employs you?”
“The same men who employ you,” he answered. “The Raptors.”
So, he knew the bar was run by a biker gang, and he worked for the MC as well. “What kind of business are you in?” she asked, studying him carefully.
He changed the subject. “Do you like red or white? Give me a general hint and then I will select the perfect wine for you.”
She sighed. “I like white.” Truthfully, she liked beer, but she said it to placate him. “What do you for a living?” she tried again.
Again, Kent ignored her, perusing the wine list instead.
“What the fuck do you do for the Raptors?” she hissed.
He raised a brow. “I don’t like it when women swear, it’s so low class.”
“Then maybe you should sit at another table,” she replied, making a face.
Kent leaned forward and for a moment, his eyes gleamed with the strangest sort of excitement, which seemed to be oddly sexual. It made her shiver a little, despite the warmth of the evening.
“Hmm, you’re a tough one, aren’t you?” he mused.
“Very,” she said, raising a brow. “What work are you doing at the Palace?” she repeated.
He sat back and steepled his fingers, eyeing her. “The Raptors are my clients and I provide them with legal representation. As I’m on retainer, they insist upon a nightly check in.”
Judging by all the arrests she’d read about in the news articles she’d collected, Daisy bet they kept him busy.
“And what about you? You aren’t the typical girl the Raptors employ.”
She shrugged. “I needed some quick money,” she answered smoothly. “So I took the first job offered to me.”
“That’s all, huh?” He widened his eyes, watching her face carefully. “I don’t think you’re telling me everything.”
She didn’t respond.
He grinned, seeming to enjoy the game of cat and mouse. “It’s a shame you didn’t bring something more appropriate to change into,” he purred, glancing down at her bare legs.
Bullshit. She had a feeling Kent wanted her to be off balance, probably why he’d invited her to the upscale place, without giving her the opportunity to change out of her hoochie wear. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know there’d be a dress code.”
“Good evening. Can I take your order?” a young brunette waitress asked as she walked up to their table.
“You mean, may I take your order,” Kent corrected.
Well, that’s rude.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, flushing. “May I take your order?”
“It’s quite all right. We’ll have a bottle of sparkling wine and two flutes, not wine glasses. Make sure both the flutes as well as the bottle are chilled. I prefer somewhere between 44 and 46 degrees.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir, one bottle of champagne coming up.”
“I’m surprised they allow you to work at this establishment with such little knowledge about wines,” he admonished. “Champagne comes from one certain region in France. Lone Star makes an excellent local sparkling wine, but it isn’t champagne.”
The waitress offered a weak smile and scampered away from the table.
Kent reminded Daisy of an arrogant douchebag she’d only gone out with once. They’d met at Starbucks and he’d ordered such a precise and complicated cup of coffee, the barista had to take notes on his order. Then, the guy had proceeded to send it back twice. When she’d finally made it back home, Daisy had deleted him out of her phone.
She cleared her throat. “You seem to have an agenda by bringing me here.” She doubted his interest in her was merely casual.
“You’re right. I want to get to know you better. You are different from the others, confident, smart, and determined. I noticed you the first night you danced.”
She ignored his flirtatious tone. “Working for the MC, I imagine you get a lot of cases?”
“I’m their defense lawyer, yes, but I don’t work for the Raptors, per se.” He sighed. “I represent the MC, but doesn’t mean I condone their actions, or even like them as people. It is a job, like any other.”
Yes, but he still made money from their criminal enterprise, albeit in a roundabout fashion. It didn’t set well with her.
The waitress reappeared with the chilled wine, along with two champagne flutes she placed beside Kent, and just as quickly dashed away, evidently eager to get away from him.
Daisy could relate!
He poured them each a glass. She’d been about to take a sip when he shook his head. “Let it breathe a moment. It will taste so much better in a few minutes. The wine will reveal its crisp, almost sweet apple undertone.”
Yep. Douchebag.
Setting it down, she crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed with his high-handed behavior.
Kent seemed to be a control freak. She’d seen the type before, the military had a tendency to attract them too, though Marines put it to good use. While others,
well, they had less honorable intentions.
“You don’t like me, do you?” he said slyly.
“What gave me away?” She cocked a sarcastic brow in his direction.
Kent laughed. “Let me guess, you think defense lawyers are all bottom feeders?”
She didn’t disagree with him. “That’s part of it.”
“And what’s the other part?” he asked softly, leaning over the table. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”
She definitely picked up on the come hither vibe, but ignored it. “You seem to be a little particular.”
“And is that such a crime? I merely have very discerning tastes. And you know what?” he asked teasingly.
She rolled her eyes. “What?”
“I usually get everything I want. But let’s address your other concern, the lawyer issue. The bedrock of our judicial system is the right to a fair trial and it includes proper legal representation. I provide counsel for the Raptors. It’s a business arrangement, but I am a sworn officer of the court, first and foremost.”
She nodded. What he’d said made sense.
“Now, let’s talk about you. Why did you really take the job? I promise you have my discretion.”
She hesitated. He had a good handle on Raptor’s illegal activities. Unfortunately, he had divided loyalties. She didn’t know quite what to make of Kent, but she knew better than to take him into her confidence.
“I already told you,” she insisted.
“Come on, Daisy,” he coaxed. “I represent morally questionable people, but it doesn’t mean I break the law. You can put your trust in me.”
She tasted the wine. “You’re right, it does taste like apples. Thank you for a very interesting evening.” With that, she headed out.
***
When she got to Hades, she knocked on Cowboy’s door and heard a pistol cock on the other side of the wood.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
“It’s just me.”
The door creaked open, and Cowboy stood there in a pair of tight, faded jeans and nothing else. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and she could detect a distinct chill in the air, which had nothing to do with the weather. “How’d it go?”
“I found out Andrew Kent is the Raptor’s lawyer.”
His brows furrowed. “What did you tell him?”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him a damn thing, but he might have some Intel on the whorehouse. He’s bound to know about all the skeletons in the club’s closet.”
“I doubt he’d be forthcoming, Kent’s supposed to keep their asses out of a sling. Not put ‘em in one.”
“I know, but he told me he doesn’t condone what they do.”
He snorted. “I don’t buy it. You can bet he gets off on it, somehow. Even if it’s only hearing about the shit they’ve done.”
She didn’t want to talk about Kent right now; she needed to clear the air between them. “About earlier, I—”
“You were doing what you thought was right,” he said quickly. “I didn’t want you to get in over your head, but this is your decision.” He sighed. “You’ve decided you would do anything to get your sister back, so this is your call.”
“But, I—”
“I’m respecting your wishes and backing your play, partner. I promise you won’t get any more interference from me.”
She cleared her throat, backing away from him. “Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Cowboy.” He shut the door and she opened the door to her own hotel room.
On the bed, she found all of her guns, along with new boxes of ammo. As well as the derringer she’d been eyeing in Steele’s store. Cowboy must have purchased it for her. Apparently he’d decided to treat her like a partner and nothing more, just like she’d asked him to at the beginning.
It should have felt like a victory. It didn’t.
Chapter Thirteen
The next two weeks dragged by.
Daisy worked nearly every night, mostly waitressing instead of stripping, and it gave her the opportunity to mill around and overhear conversations, although, frustratingly, she hadn’t heard anything more about the brothel or Rock.
No one had cornered her again, but she’d had to fend off some advances. She’d done it in a coy, flirtatious way. Thankfully, there seemed to be enough women in the place to divert attention away from her. She hadn’t seen Woody again and she didn’t know if that counted as good or bad news.
She and Cowboy had settled into a routine, centered on her work schedule, sometimes having very early breakfast together or a late supper. It was cordial, but Cowboy kept a professional boundary between them. They only spoke about the operation, never about anything remotely personal.
He’d stopped flirting with her entirely. She told herself it was a good thing. Sleeping with him would only cloud her judgment, make things even more complicated. But the distance between them bothered her. She had no idea how to repair their relationship, and it definitely felt broken.
Part of her wanted to run from the whole mess. If his withdrawal bothered her so much now, what would happen when she left and he would no longer be in her life at all? Would she be better off if she kept her head down, found Rose, and moved the hell on?
Unfortunately, she didn’t have any answers, only more questions.
***
The afternoon before a shift, Daisy decided to meet up with Eddie and Elizabeth at The Bloody Hell Tea Room. Elizabeth had pestered her until she finally gave in. Despite her earlier desire to not participate in the club’s social life, she grew to love Elizabeth and Eddie. She’d had lunch with them a couple of times in the past two weeks, texted Elizabeth nearly every day, and been over to Eddie’s house for Sunday supper. When she moved on to Fort Bliss, she’d miss them both terribly.
In general, Daisy was more at home in a beer and wing joint than some place as girly as a tea room so her expectations were low when she walked into Bloody Hell. But instead of the doilies and pink furnishings she’d been picturing, the owners had gone for a British pop culture memorabilia theme. They divided the restaurant by fandoms such as Doctor Who, Alice in Wonderland, James Bond, Peter Pan and others. Daisy and Elizabeth chose the Harry Potter section, which featured posters from the films, much to Daisy’s poignant delight. Rose would love this place! She made a mental note to take her sister here before they left town, when she found her sister. If she found Rose
“Where’s Eddie?” Daisy asked, shaking off the gloomy thought.
“Running late,” Elizabeth replied. “But she should be here in a few.”
The librarian ordered for them. She chose a selection of scones, lemon curd, Devonshire cream, a few cucumber sandwiches, and a pot of Earl Grey tea to share. The tea service featured a Harry Potter House motif. Daisy got a Gryffindor cup, while Elizabeth received Hufflepuff.
“So, how’s the move going?” Daisy asked, as she slathered a chocolate chip scone with sweet Devonshire cream.
“It’s going well! We’ve almost got all my stuff moved over.”
“Any luck redecorating?” Daisy asked. Apparently, Ryker had been a bachelor quite a while and his place had a whole man cave motif. He had a large collection of soft-core porn style posters featuring women straddling bikes tacked up on his walls, Harley Davidson bedding, and a big ass screen television in the house with a ‘truly terrifying’ amount of porn, according to Elizabeth.
She snorted. “Not yet. I think he’s afraid of an estrogen invasion, but that’s okay, I have ways of getting what I want.” She gave a mock-villainous laugh.
Daisy just shook her head. “I’m sure you do.” She’d only seen Ryker a couple of times since she’d been here, but he and the librarian gave off a palpable heat and a sweetness she didn’t quite understand. Daisy had never really been a believer in love, but Ryker and Elizabeth were the closest to it she’d ever seen.
“I think you should come over later this week. I’m feelin’ a
need for some moonshine.” She raised a brow. “Ooh, what about a Supernatural marathon?”
“We could make a drinking game,” Daisy said. “How about we do a shot every time it looks like Castiel is going to kiss Dean?”
“Good call!” She bit her lower lip. “Maybe we could invite Lexie and Dani, too? Unfortunately, I don’t have many numbers in my cell these days.”
Daisy had been wondering about something. Maybe because she’d been considering her own relationship with Cowboy and what it meant. “You said earlier your social life took a hit when you started seeing Ryker. Do you ever wish you’d made another choice?”
Elizabeth didn’t even hesitate. “I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. We had a whirlwind romance and the whole outlaw thing was scary at first. But then I got to know him, and the club, and I realized I could trust my instincts when it came to Ryker. We belong together.”
Daisy watched the play of emotions on her face, and underneath it all was joy. She began to wonder if she’d ever felt that happy in her life. Daisy didn’t think so.
“He is a good man, and if the townies can’t see it?” Elizabeth raised a brow. “Fuck ‘em.”
Daisy blinked. She’d never really heard the librarian swear before.
Just then, Elizabeth’s cell phone went off and she checked the caller identification. “It’s work, so I have to take it. I’m going outside so I can hear clearly, but I’ll be right back.” She got up and headed out to the parking lot to take the call.
Meanwhile, Eddie walked in and sat down opposite her. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing much. We planned another girl’s night.”
“Count me in.” She poured herself a cup of tea and slanted a look out the window, to see Elizabeth leaning against her car, the phone pressed to her ear. “Okay, down to business. Before she comes back, we need to discuss the Cowboy situation.”
“What do you mean?”
Eddie sighed. “Cowboy might not be my flesh and blood, but he’s family all the same. The past couple of weeks, he’s been drinking at Perdition every chance he gets. He ends up getting carried off to a crash room to sleep it off.”
Hot as Hades (Four Horsemen MC Book 2) Page 13
