Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel

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Jake: A Southern Crime Family Novel Page 24

by Carla Swafford


  “How long are you going to stand there and stare at my butt?” Angel turned, one dark eyebrow lifted. “So you’re here to apologize. Personally, I think it is only fair you get on your knees.” Eyebrows raised, she didn’t believe he would do it.

  Well, hell. Whatever he needed to do, he would. That was as much as his pride allowed. He went to a knee, resting his arms on the raised one. He lifted his head to look at her. “I’m not good at doing humble, but you deserve a knee. That much is for sure. I understand why you’re pissed at me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. Her doubtful expression confirmed she believed there was a trick to his admission.

  She fingered the handle of a knife sticking out of her pocket. “I did everything you wanted and you embarrassed me in front of your men,” she flatly stated.

  “What can I say? I was out of my mind. Nothing had ever happened to Mom like that. I went crazy and said things I didn’t mean.” He released a long sigh, nodding. “It was inexcusable. I’m sorry.” Fuck, that was hard. Yes, he was in the wrong, but he couldn’t remember the last time he willingly apologized without the shit being beaten out of him by his old man. “And they’re our men. And I regret doing that.”

  She blinked and looked away. Her face stiff from holding back her emotions. Damn, he’d hated she felt a need to hide anything from him, especially her feelings. After the time he tracked her down to the motel, it had been with other people. Never him.

  Damn it. She stared at the floor and then ceiling, still refusing to look him in the eye.

  “I swear, Angel, I’m sorry. You have no idea how much I hate myself right now.”

  Fuck, he was glad he hadn’t completely lost his mind and hit her. Even at the peak of his anger the thought had never crossed his mind, but he’d worried about it most of his life. He was his father’s son. Yet, he respected women too much for that. Fuck to all hell, he loved her too much. Yes, for days now, he admitted he loved her. Maybe in some ways, the way he felt had come about too quickly. Deep inside, who knew, he may have started to fall for her all of those years ago. And since then every woman he met never measured up. Only Angel. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman: strong, courageous, loyal, daring, straightforward, and sexy as hell.

  “Sugar, you’ve got to tell me why you’re so mad. I’m sure it’s something I’ve done, but you have to remember, I haven’t been in my right mind.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered as if clearing her mind, possibly coming to a decision.

  “I’m not good at playing games,” she said. “I’ve had enough drama in my life. So here it is. You were forced to marry me. I understand that. Now, after everything we’ve gone through, done, and planned, do you want to stay married? If you don’t, I won’t fight you. Whatever the old men put into their wills is bullshit. We don’t have to abide them. Richards will do as we say. I know it and you know it. So tell me the truth.” Tears welled up in her beautiful green eyes. It killed him to see her so unhappy. “Am I good enough to be your bed partner, but not good enough to be the woman who stands at your side in sickness and health?”

  Then it struck him. He’d sent her home from the hospital. At the time, he’d been worried about his mom, and when Angel offered to go back to his mom’s room, in the back of his mind he’d seen her slumping shoulders and dragging feet. She’d been bone tired. He hadn’t wanted her to become ill and two of the most important women in his life in the hospital. In less than two weeks, she’d been through so much. Her grandfather died. She’d killed two men and shot another. She needed her rest, uninterrupted rest, but she’d been worried about his mom.

  He’d never considered how his family was hers now. They were each other’s family.

  No matter how strong-willed she’d proven to be around him, he had refused to accept the truth: he needed her as much as she needed him. His determination to be a strong fortress for those he cared about in the midst of the chaos wasn’t working. Her touch, her support, and care mattered more than he had ever expected. By remaining alone, holding the fort without help, he’d given her no option but to leave.

  He lowered his other knee and rested on his heels, hands on his thighs. His head down. She deserved more than he could ever give her.

  Lifting his head, he decided to lay it out like a man.

  “Angel, how any man as cursed as I am could luck up with you as his wife, I’ll never know. My mom and I would be dead now, if not for you. That evening in the hospital, all I thought about was how exhausted I was and how you had to be twice as weary. That you needed to go home and not worry about anything. I swear that was it. I’m sorry if you thought anything else. Why didn’t you call me out on it?” He lowered his voice. She needed to understand he wasn’t angry.

  Her voice cracked, sorrow making each word husky. “I thought you were ashamed of me. That you were tolerating me being by your side, using me.” Using her thumb and forefinger, she wiped her eyes, blinked, and then knelt in front of him. “I love you. I guess I’ve loved you all my life. I don’t understand why. Really, why should it make any sense? A person just knows.”

  He reached for her arms and pulled her on top of him as he straightened his legs and leaned back against a cabinet. “No, baby, it shouldn’t make sense. Fuck. I love you more than I thought I was capable of. You’re part of me. Without you, I’ll never be whole.”

  Unable to resist, he kissed her. Her lips were soft and giving. Just like she always was in bed. A tough cookie out in the world, but in their private world, all marshmallow insides.

  He squeezed her tight, and she returned the gesture. Their lips parted, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder. A few seconds passed before he felt her body shake.

  “Oh, don’t cry. I thought we patched everything up.”

  Her head moved up and down. “Yeah, I just never believed you could love me back.”

  “Oh, damn, Angel. You’re so lovable and sexy, it’s amazing all of the assholes in Marystown didn’t know it.”

  She laughed. A good solid laugh he realized he loved to hear.

  “Thanks.” Her gaze darted to the side.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I really want to go to the hospital and visit your mom.”

  Chuckling quietly, he squeezed again. “You bet, but why is it so important for you to see her? She’s going home tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I think your mom and I got off on the wrong foot, and I want her to see I care.”

  “Sure. We’ll do that right after we move you and Damien back into the big house.”

  “Big house?”

  “That’s what your brother calls it.”

  “Did you tell him that’s a term for a prison?”

  “Nah. He can call it anything he wants as long as you call it home.” He grinned down into her sweet face. That was when he noticed she wasn’t wearing her white makeup. Maybe she was deciding to quit hiding behind it.

  He caressed her cheek.

  “I like that. Home. Wherever you live,” she said in a soft voice.

  Another deep kiss had him stretched over her on the floor, his arm beneath her head, protecting her from the hard surface.

  “How about you show me your bedroom? It’ll be more comfortable. And if I remember correctly, you’re due for another spanking.”

  “You think so?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement beneath heavy lids.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I was beginning to worry you’d turned in your man card.”

  He laughed and helped her to her feet. After a slap to her ass, he threw an arm over her shoulder and strode through the living area and down the short hallway. Damien was nowhere in sight.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “He’s visiting with his friend a couple doors down.”

  Recalling what Damien said about the thin walls, Jake was happy the teenager had deserted the place. Wouldn’t want him charging in to save his sister at the wrong time.

  She opened the bedroom door. He s
tarted to follow, but stopped and pulled his head back in disbelief.

  “I knew you liked to read, but I had no idea.” He nodded toward the other side of the room. One whole wall had shelves upon shelves of books. From what he could tell most were hot romances. He chuckled and turned to her. “How about you reading a couple hot scenes of your favorite ones?”

  “How about a spanking scene? I have just the one,” she said with a sultry smirk.

  His heart jumped and heat flooded his body. He never thought it possible to feel so out of control and in love with a despised Tally. Guess he just needed to marry her and change her name. Hell, he didn’t care about her name. All that mattered was she belonged to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The light heating her face came at a strange angle. Angel cracked opened her eyes and quickly pulled a pillow over to block out the rays. A delicious twinge shot across her buttocks and down her legs. He’d shown her how much he cared for her, and she’d orgasmed so many times, her whole body ached.

  Stretching, easing the twitches and pains, she rolled over and reached out for Jake. Warm skin met her fingers. Jake. He’d stayed. He’d slept at her place in her small double bed. For years, she’d imagined him being in her room. But the dream had a fancy bed with wispy curtains blowing in the breeze as they kissed in slow motion, their hair tangling in the wind. Biting her lip to stop her laughter, she leaned over, pressed her lips to his chest, and inhaled with satisfaction. She savored his scent. The man did smell good. Soap with a faint hint of smoke and hot male.

  Unable to resist, she licked his skin from one tight little nipple to the other. The hair at the center of his chest tickled her tongue. Resting her ear over his heart, she enjoyed the strong thumping. The speed picked up as her hand followed the dark trail to his hard, thick cock. What a great feeling knowing she could make the big guy react like that. Baring her teeth, she nipped a path down until she flicked her tongue at the tip of his cock and scraped her teeth gently across the ridge.

  He jumped. “Fuck, Angel, you’re killing me.” His voice deep.

  “Did I hurt you?” She knew he liked a little pain, too.

  “Kiss it and make it better.” His hand smoothed the back of her head. “Please.”

  Her eyes closed for a second with a sigh. The sweet, softly spoken request from the hard man brought such tender feelings, cementing her love with a simple word.

  She swirled her tongue around his slit and then over the cap. When he hissed, she smiled but continued to bathe the sensitive head. By the time she sucked his cock to the back of her throat, he released a groan with each draw.

  “Hell, yes. That’s it. Take it all the way. Oh, yes. I fucking love your mouth.”

  Stretching her neck, she swallowed his length past her gag reflex. She breathed hard through her nose, ruffling the hair at the base of his shaft. All the times she’d practiced with a dildo and watched the lessons online paid off. As she backed off, he began to orgasm, and she sucked hard.

  “Fuck, yes!” His scream echoed in the room.

  Did Damien hear Jake’s scream down the street? Who cared?

  She fought the giggle working its way up from her heart.

  After a resounding pop, she rested her cheek on his flat stomach. Smiling from the happiness filling her, she stared at his beautiful cock, soft and partially extended against his thigh. Unable to hold back, she carefully traced a vein down the length. It twitched, and Jake grabbed her wrist.

  She lifted her head to look at him. His gaze was serious as he dragged her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. Pulling from his hold, she scooted up his body and stared into his eyes with a tilt of her head.

  “Enough, sweetheart. Give me a few minutes. Maybe an hour. Maybe tonight? Shit. You are something. How did I get so lucky? I never thought I’d be grateful to the old man.” He looked at her with such tenderness, she felt tears build up.

  “I’m the one who’s lucky.”

  Kissing him was something she would never get tired of. His tongue thrusting and licking her mouth had her throbbing with want. Knowing that he could probably taste himself, her pussy clenched. That was such a sexy thought.

  Breaking off the kiss, he leaned back, breathing hard.

  “Sugar,” he said. “Sugar. I have to go and tend to a few things this morning.”

  “Tick?”

  His face shut down. She hated when he did that.

  “Forget about Tick,” he said. “He’s the least of our problems. We’re still in danger from the Atlanta mob and that bitch of an ex-FBI agent.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple. “I have to get with my brothers and talk about what’s happened and who’s involved.”

  “Have you heard from Sen or Quinn’s daughter?”

  “Nothing. I would be really worried but Sen has always been good at taking care of himself. He’ll protect Tessa.”

  “He cares about her?” Something in his tone had indicated that.

  A crooked grin brightened his face. “Yeah. He’s had a thing for her for years, but Quinn hates his guts. Quinn’s old man died fighting in Vietnam.”

  “That’s sad on so many levels. Mostly, I’ll never understand how people can condemn a total culture, race, or religion for the actions of a few.” She hurt for Sen. She better than most understood how it was to love someone with no hope. Clasping Jake’s big hand, she brushed her lips over the back of his hand and pressed it to her cheek. But look what time took care of. She still couldn’t believe he loved her. From the way he looked into her eyes, she knew he’d been telling the truth.

  “If anyone can win over Quinn, it’ll be Sen. He has more tenaciousness than anyone I’ve ever met,” Jake said, smiling sweetly at her. Her heart warmed.

  “What about Ethan? Is he still in Marystown? You don’t think your cousins will try something?” Knowing his brothers were as important to Jake as Damien was to her, she wanted everyone to be okay.

  “I heard from him yesterday. He’s back in Nashville. He’s certain by the end of the day he’ll know who Carleton is working with.”

  “The cousins still up there?”

  “Nope. They’re back at home. Probably still planning a way to take over Whitfield Industries. They’re that stupid.” He slapped her butt. “Time to get packing and moving yours and Damien’s stuff to the big house.”

  She laughed, shaking her head, and murmured, “Big house. Too funny.”

  At lunchtime, Damien showed up and helped, excited about the permanent move.

  “Wait until Tick finds out I beat Chris at Halo 5. He won’t believe it.” Damien threw his bag into the back of the truck Jake had one of his guards bring.

  Anyone else, Angel could hide her feelings from, but not her brother and not Jake. When he turned to say more to her, he stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Damien asked.

  She looked over to Jake, trying to decide how to give the bad news to her brother.

  “Tick’s dead,” Jake said. Only a man would think something so blunt was okay.

  “What?” Tears filled her brother’s eyes. Angel started to move toward him. He held up his hand. “No, Sis. Don’t. I want the truth. I knew something happened, and it wasn’t good, but I trusted you to tell me. You haven’t. I want to know now. I want to hear it from Jake.”

  Oh, God, when had he grown up?

  “Tick and his cousin killed the old men and had been involved in the other shootings. He killed his own cousin and burned his body above the garage, trying to hide his guilt. He tried to shoot me and missed, hitting Lydia.”

  Looking a little lost, Damien nodded. The movement released the tears. Streams flowed down his cheeks though he didn’t make a sound.

  Angel fisted her hands. Oh, God, she hurt for him. She wanted to punish someone for hurting her brother. Tick. His jealousy caused so much pain for so many people. How could he be so blind? The brothers had wealth, but Angel knew Tick’s dad wasn’t poor. The man had a father who loved and cared for him.
That was much more than the Whitfield boys ever had.

  Using his T-shirt to clean his face, Damien sniffed and then cleared his throat. “When’s his funeral?”

  Jake shook his head. “No funeral.”

  “I see. The bog.”

  One of Jake’s eyebrows lifted.

  Damien rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “What about Mr. Richards? He deserves to bury his son. He was Mr. Whitfield’s best friend.”

  “Traitors don’t get treated that way.”

  “Sounds like you’re punishing Mr. Richards, too.” Damien looked up to Jake, squinting one eye in the late afternoon sun. “It would be a favor to me. I liked Tick. He never did anything to me. If there is anything about the body to give away what happened, Quinn can fix it. I heard about a few things that can be done to hide gunshots.”

  “Damien, where are you hearing this crap?” She felt uneasy by his knowledge.

  “Sis, you’re kidding yourself if you think I’m not a Tally. Granddaddy didn’t ignore me all the time. He told me stuff.”

  She covered her mouth. Everything she’d done to protect him had not been enough.

  “Hey, don’t worry.” He walked over and hugged her. When had he grown another inch? He could look at her eye to eye. “I’m still planning to go to college. I figured Whitfield Industries will need a good accountant. I like numbers.” Releasing her, he turned back to Jake. “What do you say?”

  “He wasn’t shot. He actually had a heart attack.”

  “Torture can do that,” Damien stated.

  Jake nodded. “Okay. I’ll make a couple calls. Richards can have his son’s body for burial.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” Damien gave a half smile and climbed into the back of the extended cab truck.

  “Oh, no,” she softly said.

  “What?” Jake asked.

  “He’s grown up, and he’s got you wrapped around his little finger.”

  “Fuck, no. You have me wrapped around yours. He just never asks for anything, and I had been rethinking it, anyway.”

 

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