She hated that he was right, but he was. And she understood the need to keep Reilly’s location a secret. But not knowing made it feel like any control over her sister’s situation was slipping from her fingers.
And she needed to hang on, even if it was only by her fingernails. “Well, at least tell me where to send money. I’ll cover her expenses, of course.”
“Think you’re bein’ slick.”
Damn it.
“Will tell you this much, she’s at my place. Since I’m here, it’s empty. That’s all you need to know. Not the location.”
“She’s there by herself?”
“Ain’t by herself.”
“Then, I have to assume she’s with people you trust completely.” She sure as hell hoped so.
“Yeah. Not just men, women, too. They’ll take care of her. Promise.”
Promise.
Could she trust him and his promise?
Simply trusting someone blindly, or a group of people, wasn’t easy for her. And Reilly hadn’t made the best decision when it came to allowing Billy Warren into her life.
Reese needed to help her sister make better decisions from here on out. Until she proved she was capable of making those decisions for herself.
“I put her through college so she could be smart. Make good decisions.”
“Since when does college make people fuckin’ smart?”
She hadn’t realized she’d said her thoughts out loud. But, again, he was right. An education made a person more well-rounded, not necessarily smarter.
She only wanted the best for her sister. In every aspect of her life.
“So she could be independent.” And not rely on any man. She hoped that a college degree would give her a good foundation to build a great life for herself. A better one than their parents had provided. Or not provided.
And it still could. Billy Warren was just a speed bump in Reilly’s life. A speed bump Reese would like to demolish.
Being early April, the night air was cool, but comfortable. She wasn’t sure if it was the pot she got a whiff of or the fresh air that was reducing the throb of her headache.
She was just glad it was almost gone.
She sighed and stared up into the sky again, getting lost in its vastness. “She’s young. She still believes she needs a man in her life. She hasn’t learned that lesson yet, though this situation should teach her. She thought she loved him. She didn’t. She only liked the thought of him. Of taming a bad boy.” She had no idea why she was telling him this. He probably couldn’t care less about why her sister hooked up with Billy. She turned her head to see him studying her. “One like you. Tattoos, beard, even piercings. You probably ride a motorcycle, too, right? You fall right into the stereotype of the bad boy and think no woman can resist you.”
He huffed. “Right. I’m totally fuckin’ irresistible. ‘Cept to women like you who think you’re too good for a man like me. Think you’re smarter, better.”
This time he wasn’t correct. She wasn’t too good for him. She had enough experience to know a man like Deacon was simply not good for her. Just like Billy had been bad for Reilly.
“Believe it or not, I wasn’t born with what I have. I worked hard to pull myself up from where I began, to build what I have, to create the life I now live. I learned never to rely on anyone but myself. Wanting a man and needing one are different. And if I want a man, it doesn’t mean I need him to make me a complete person. I can do that on my own.”
“Sounds lonely.”
Some days it was. Very. But her previous attempt at not being lonely had turned out to be a disaster. Maybe not in the same caliber as her sister’s attempt, but still...
It was one lesson she wouldn’t forget.
Neither said a word for a few moments. Instead, the last two words he said hung between them.
She didn’t deny being lonely. She didn’t argue it, either.
Which meant it was true.
She shifted in her chair like she was ready to call it a night. She wasn’t comfortable with that truth when it was put out there like it was.
But Deacon wasn’t ready for her to walk inside and shut him out. She had given him a little glimpse of who she was and where she came from, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to hear more.
She probably wouldn’t give him anything personal if he outright asked. That would take some work and a bit of finesse on his part, but he was pretty damn sure when it came to her business, she’d be more likely to talk.
He had heard the pride in her voice when she mentioned working hard and creating the life she currently had. “Put yourself through school to become a lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“You a defense attorney?”
She hesitated, most likely because she was trying to figure out where he was headed with his questions. She’d be the type to want to be a few steps ahead. She didn’t like situations where she wasn’t in control. “Why? Do you need one? I’m not cheap.”
What attorney was?
He chuckled. “Not yet. You do criminal defense, then.” It would be nice to have a lawyer hookup in case he or one of his brothers got in a jam. Deacon bet Reese was on fire when she worked the courtroom. She would not let a prosecutor get the best of her.
Hell no.
She would take total command of that room and all eyes would be on her.
That thought made his dick twitch. He visualized her pacing back and forth in front of a judge and jury, machine gunning questions at a witness on the stand, making that person sweat bullets.
Suddenly his little fantasy changed into Reese wearing a sexy black leather outfit, spiked heels and carrying a long bullwhip, her cracking it at her opponent in the legal arena.
Fuck yeah. That dick twitch quickly turned into a half chub.
Some women dreamed of taming a bad boy. But some men dreamed of taming a powerful woman. Like Reese.
“No, I specialize in civil litigation.”
His head jerked back. And he regretfully let that little fantasy go. For now. He might continue it later in his room. “What the fuck is that?”
“Let’s just say, I get paid to argue. And get my clients what they deserve.”
He snorted. “You get paid to argue. Now there’s a fuckin’ surprise.”
Was she smiling? If so, she was fighting it.
Life was too goddamn short to be so uptight and serious all the time.
“Basically, I handle civil lawsuits. I can be retained by either side. A lot of my clients are businesses, like a car dealership. But my strength is getting a suit settled before it even goes to trial. It saves my client money in the end, which they appreciate. Happy clients give me referrals.”
“You’re good at negotiatin’.”
“Yes.”
She probably negotiated her own divorce. “Your sister said your ex fucked you over.”
He was sure Reese wasn’t happy Reilly gave him that much. Even in the dark, he could see her frown and tense up. “He tried.”
“You got to keep this house.” It might not be in the suburbs of Philly where houses cost a fuckton of scratch, but it wasn’t a shack. The gate, the long, paved driveway, the house itself didn’t read middle class. It read “financially comfortable.”
Whether that was true or not, whether that was only a false front, he couldn’t be sure. But the little bit he knew about the woman sitting on the deck with him, he could tell she wasn’t a poser. She wasn’t living above her means. She appreciated everything she owned and didn’t take it for granted.
This house was something she wanted, and she did what she had to do to get it.
Deacon liked that.
Determination and drive.
This woman had it oozing out of her pores. He didn’t need to know her deepest, darkest secrets to figure that out. She wore that shit on her sleeve.
“Of course, I did. It’s my damn house.” She twisted on the chair and put her bare feet down on the deck. “I’m tired. I’m going
to bed.”
She was ready to bolt.
He leaned over and grabbed her arm, keeping her in her seat. “Hold up.” She jerked her arm, but he tightened his hold.
“I’m not talking about my divorce,” she snapped, using her free hand to rub at her temple.
“Got it. Sore subject.”
“You’re here for one reason. To catch Billy. That’s it. Not to become my bestie. Not to share giggles and gossip.”
She had walls up all around her. Like a fucking fortress. Deacon suddenly wanted to be the battering ram that knocked those fuckers down.
For fuck’s sake, he should get his goddamn head examined. Too many women out there who weren’t this difficult. Women like Bambi. Or Tina. Or any of the other women he’d scored with since he lost his fucking virginity at fifteen.
“You’re right. You wanted to know my plan. Need to talk about that.”
“Make it quick. I need to get an early start in the morning.”
“You ever just take a break?” She went to get up again and he yanked her arm, pulling her back down. “Sit.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed on him.
“Got it. Here to deal with Warren, nothin’ more. Let’s talk about that for a second.” The muscles in her forearm loosened a little, so he released her. “When I looked for your sister’s social media, I found nothin’.”
“That’s correct.”
“When I asked her about it this mornin’, she said you made her take it all down.”
“Yes.” Her answer was short and clipped. Like her patience was at its limit.
It wouldn’t take much for his to get there, too. “I need it back up.”
“What?”
“I need at least one account up and also need access to it.”
“Why?”
“We’re gonna set a trap.”
“A trap,” she parroted.
“Yep.” With a muscle popping in his jaw, he got to his feet, strode two paces away, then spun. His blood was pounding in his ears. “You know, told you that you needed to fuckin’ trust me. Know that’s gonna be hard for you. But this questionin’ my every move is pissin’ me the fuck off. I don’t have to fuckin’ help your goddamn sister, but I am. I’m puttin’ my family at risk by hidin’ her somewhere safe. I’d at least like a little appreciation for that. But if that’s too hard for you to give, then I’ll tell you where she is, you can go pick her ass up and you two can deal with Warren yourselves.”
“Basically, you’re telling me to trust you or fuck off.”
“Not ‘basically.’ That’s what I’m sayin’.”
Reese slowly rose to her feet. He half expected her to head inside and slam the door behind her.
Instead, she moved to where he stood with his body tight as fuck. Not just from anger, but now from how close she was. Practically toe to toe.
So close, but still out of reach.
Even after smoking pot, he could detect her scent. It was faint, but it was there. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, trying to draw more of her in. His fingers curled into his palms in a desperate attempt not to grab her and do whatever was necessary to loosen her the fuck up.
Because if she gave him that shot, he was pretty damn sure he could pull that stick out of her sweet ass. Even if it was only temporary.
Fuck. He just needed a shot at it. At her.
Without getting his ass stun-gunned again.
She turned her face up toward his and said, “Explain the plan. I’m willing to listen. I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to keep my sister safe.”
“And you,” he added. It would be stupid for her to sacrifice herself for her sister’s safety.
“My sister comes first.”
“Judge is gonna get me her username and password to one of her social media accounts. We’re gonna post like it’s her postin’. Hopin’ that fucker’s keepin’ an eye on her account, so the post I make draws him here. To this house. Not likin’ that you’re here, too. So, I need to make sure you keep your eyes fuckin’ open. Every time you’re walkin’ anywhere, want your stun gun in one hand, your cell in the other. Pay attention, keep vigilant. Don’t underestimate that fucker. He won’t hesitate to use you to get info on your sister.”
“When will you post it?”
With no argument coming from her, he relaxed a little. “Tomorrow mornin’. Soon as I get that info and we decide what we’re postin’ and on which account. Whatever she was most active on and, hopefully, one he knew about.”
She nodded. “Instagram. Before I made her disable it, she was posting on it at least once a day.”
Good to know. Thank fuck Reese was on board. “We’ll use that one, then.”
“That’s how Billy found her. Reilly had mentioned he made a few comments on some of her pictures, then slid like the snake he is into her private messages and began working her.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Stupid.”
“We all do stupid shit, Reese. He’s an expert at suckin’ in women. She wasn’t the first.”
Her eyes opened and even in the dark, he could tell they’d become hard. “I want her to be the last.”
“Can’t promise that. Even if I catch his ass, he won’t be locked up forever. He lives off women’s hopes and dreams... ‘til he crushes them.”
She lifted her open hand in front of his face and squeezed it into a tight fist. “I would like to crush something on that asshole that has nothing to do with hopes and dreams.”
Deacon grimaced and fought pinning his thighs together. “Yeah, well. This plan might work if you don’t do anythin’ stupid.” He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t do anything stupid, Reese. Let me handle that motherfucker, not you. Don’t make me regret allowin’ you to stay here.”
Her spine snapped straight. “Allowing me.”
“Yeah, you heard me.”
“You allowed me to stay in my own house. You’re almost as generous as my fucking ex by allowing me to keep the house I fucking paid for.”
As she spoke, her voice had risen and the last part was shouted loud enough he swore he heard it echoed back at him from the woods. If there was any wildlife nearby, they probably all scrambled for cover.
“I’m going to bed.” She headed toward the door, but hesitated with her hand on the door handle. “Oh wait. Am I allowed to do that?”
Without waiting for his response, she went inside, slamming the door shut. He remained outside, where he figured it was a bit safer for the moment. He tracked her as she went into the kitchen, snagged a bottle of wine and a wineglass, and hoofed it across the great room to a door on the other side of the house. From his exploring earlier when she wasn’t home, he knew it was the master bedroom.
He heard that door slam, too.
Then he allowed himself to grin.
He was getting a taste of that, if it was the last thing he did. Having a night with her would be a good use of his balls one last time before she ripped them off.
Chapter Seven
Reese froze as she raised the coffee mug to her lips. She swallowed hard and, keeping her head locked forward, she followed Deacon with only her eyes as he entered the kitchen, wearing black boxer briefs.
Just boxer briefs.
Snug. Very snug. Boxer briefs.
The stretchy cotton hugged his early morning erection as he moved toward the side door, letting Justice outside. He left the door open a gap, turned and headed toward her next.
She lowered the mug a little more, made sure her mouth wasn’t gaping open and then lifted her eyes, because...
Because that was the right thing to do.
Breathe, Reese, breathe.
Breathe.
Almost every inch of his muscular arms were covered in tattoos. That wasn’t the surprising part since she had seen him with sleeves pushed to his elbows. But he had more tattoos covering the skin across his upper chest.
All in black and grey.
She already knew his nipples were pierced but know
ing and seeing it in technicolor were two different things.
Very, very different.
Especially since the kitchen lights reflected off the shiny metal barbells. The fact that he let someone—most likely a stranger—drive a needle through the tips of both nipples was both fascinating and disturbing at the same time.
But seeing them now, in the flesh, made a few things on her body flutter. Like her heart, her stomach and... elsewhere.
His hair wasn’t in its normal Viking-like braid. This morning it was pulled back into a sort of messy man-bun to keep it out of his face.
Without a word, he moved past her, where she leaned back against the island counter, and headed toward the coffeemaker tucked into the corner.
Since she normally lived by herself, out of habit she only made enough for herself. And she was on her second mugful.
He reminded her of a zombie as he pulled the empty pot from the coffeemaker, stared at it for a second, then slid it back into place. But as he did so, she got a good view of his back. But only for a couple of seconds before he turned and headed directly toward her.
She could only imagine her eyes were as big as saucers as he approached.
Before she could spit out, “What are you doing?” he’d pulled the mug from her frozen fingers and sucked down half of her fresh coffee. After he was done, he blinked once and handed it back.
She scrambled to grab it before it could fall to the tile floor and smash to pieces.
She stared into her now half-empty mug, wondering if she should finish the rest or dump it down the drain. Before she could decide, he reached down and scratched his balls.
Yes.
That was what he did.
In front of a complete stranger. Scratched his nuts like he had a bug infestation or something.
“Really?” She cleared her throat when her question came out more like a squeak.
He shrugged. “Told me to make myself at home.”
Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC Book 4) Page 9
