Breaking His Law: Sugar County Boys: Book 5
Page 6
“I couldn’t just tell you, you know,” I mutter. “It’s the freaking FBI, Colton, and I was undercover. And they don’t mean ‘undercover but it’s cool if you tell your brother so he doesn’t worry,’ you know,” I spit. “What do you want from me? This is my job, Colton.”
“Your job to barge into Lawson fucking Banner’s bar with gun and a badge?” he shoots right back. “What are you, Wyatt fucking Earp?”
I glare at him.
“Says the man in the cowboy hat.”
Behind him, Colton’s wife, Tara, snorts, covering her mouth to hide the grin.
“Yes, dear,” my brother grumbles.
Tara just grins, coming up behind him and sliding an arm around his waist as she pulls tight. I like Tara a lot. She’s been good for my brother, that’s for sure, even with the insane way they tumbled into each other.
“Maybe lighten up a little, huh?” She smiles, patting Colton’s chest. “She was just doing her job, babe, and if she’s in the FBI at her age, I think it’s 'cause they know she can do it.”
“Thank you,” I say primly, eyeing my brother.
His face stays scowling, even if I see his hand wrap around Tara’s shoulders.
“I wear a cowboy hat because I own a horse ranch, Taylor,” he growls. “And you’re dodging the question. Are you even fucking old enough for the FBI?”
“Dear,” Tara mutters.
“What?” he grumbles back. “I have a right to be concerned, baby. This is dangerous work she’s doing.”
“Yeah, no shit,” I growl back. “But it’s not like I’m going into it blind. I’ve been trained — a lot.”
“And how’d that work, barging into Law’s place?”
“It was fine.”
“You arrest him for anything?”
I blush, my thoughts rushing back to what happened at that bar earlier.
“No.”
“You could have been killed by that fire, you know.”
“It was a freak accident! It’s not like I got into a gun fight with Lawson.”
I just fucked him. I just let him spank me. I just melted for him like I’ve never melted for anyone before.
Colton shoves his fingers through his hair. “That was reckless.”
I’m quiet for a second. I want to toss something back, but, he’s actually right. Today was reckless. It was also against my orders. After I got checked out by the paramedics earlier, I got my ass chewed out by my superior over the phone. Hard. So hard in fact that I’m officially on suspension pending an investigation into my “reckless conduct” and “flagrant disregard for protocol.”
Because the truth of it is, I had no authority to go charging into Law’s bar today, no matter what I try and say to my superiors. Yes, I’m here in Sugar County working undercover because I know this place, and know the people. And that means I know that Law Banner is the villain at the center of all sorts of bad shit around here.
But, the Bureau just said “watch him,” and I didn’t follow those directions. Not at all. And now, my ass might just get canned for it.
The secret was out with my brother when a friend of his in the fire department called him to let him know about me being okay after the blaze. And of course, when he roared up in his truck to see me talking to a regional FBI director while wearing a freaking FBI jacket, well, the jig was up.
But then, he also knows about me being in serious trouble with the Bureau. And at the end of the day, Colton isn’t really angry at me, he’s just scared to have almost lost me. At least in his mind.
There’s silence in the kitchen for another minute before he shakes his head. He turns, kissing the top of Tara’s head before he slips away from her, moves towards me, and wraps his big arms around me.
“Taylor, I just—”
“Colton, I’m not a little kid anymore. I can take care of myself. Look, today was reckless, and I know I screwed up. But, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“It’s my job to worry about you.”
I shake my head, nodding at Tara and the now-noticeable bump in her belly.
“No, you big oaf, your job is to worry about them now. Colton, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself, or I wouldn’t be doing this, okay? Look, do you realize how hard and heavily I’ve been trained for this?”
He shrugs, grumbling.
“You realize I could probably outshoot you with my eyes closed.”
Colton snorts, rolling his eyes. “Okay, now I know you’re just talking bullshit.”
I grin. “Top of my class and highest marks at the academy in five years at the range.”
He arches a brow. “Well, shit.”
I grin, and my brother sighs again, shaking his head.
“Look, Taylor, I just—”
“She knows, baby,” Tara says quietly, coming over and wrapping her arms around him, hugging him close before she kisses his cheek. She slips away from him and comes over to hug me too.
“We’re just glad you’re okay. That fire—”
“I’m fine, really. Law, he…”
I trail off, swallowing my blush.
“What?”
“He kept me safe. Turned the sprinkles on in the bar and kept us from burning until the fire trucks came.”
Colton frowns. “Law Banner did that?”
I nod.
“Well, trying to save his own bar,” my brother mutters.
I half smile, rolling my eyes. Even though Law’s had some business dealings with Colton, and Shepherd, and Silas now, not to mention their friends Walker and Tucker with their trucking business, I’m kind of glad Colton’s still skeptical of Law.
I mean, I still am, even after today. Even after he turned my whole world upside down, and shattered everything I knew. Even after he made me feel things I’ve never felt before, and made me beg for more…
I’m still not sure I trust him. And I still think he is what he is. Gorgeous, toe-curlingly hot, possessive and dominant. But also, wicked.
Bad.
The kingpin at the center of all sorts of horrible things.
“Darlin’, I’m betting you don’t know a thing about me.”
I shake my head, clearing that memory of him from right before he walked away. Right before the dream evaporated in my hands.
“Law Banner is bad fucking news, Taylor. I don’t have to tell you that,” Colton mutters, stepping back. “That man’s got a demon in him. Stay away from him.”
“It’s my job, Colton.”
Well, for now. Until they toss my ass out of the Bureau for acting like an impulsive idiot.
“Hey, you were the one riding wild horses trying to buck you off for a living, remember? Tell me to be careful?”
I smirk at him and he grunts, rolling his eyes.
“Brat,” he mutters, finally grinning as he tussles my hair and turns. “I gotta go check on the barn. You staying for dinner?”
I nod.
“Good.”
He steps out of the kitchen, and when the front door to the old farmhouse closes, Tara smiles, coming over to hug me again.
“You know he’s just worried about you.”
“I know, I know.”
She whistles. “FBI, huh?”
I grin sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I wanted to tell you guys, it’s just—”
“Nope, I get it. No apologies needed.” She pulls away, eying me. “So, this job with Law…”
“It’s just a job,” I say quickly.
…Too quickly. Too forced. Too aggressively. And Tara is no idiot.
Her brow arches, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth.
“Oh really?”
“Tara—”
She grins wider, winking at me. “Hey, I’m not saying anything.”
“Okay, you’re reading this wrong. Law Banner and I are…” I frown. Goddamnit, this whole thing has my head all turned around. It has me off my game, and I’m bungling this up, big time.
“He’s an assignment.”
&nbs
p; “Uh-huh.” She crosses her arms over her chest, clearing her throat as she nods at me. “That ‘assignment’ have anything to do with those hickeys on your neck?”
I blush bright red, my hand flying up to my neck as my jaw drops.
And Tara grins.
“Busted,” she giggles. “You don’t have anything on your neck. But wow did you move like you thought you might.”
The blush on my face deepens, and my eyes drop as I groan.
“Nothing—”
“Happened?” Tara grins. “You mean nothing at all happened during the few hours when you were locked in a hot wet bar alone with that man that would make you reach for hickeys that aren’t there?”
I look down quickly, my face bright red.
“I’m just going to say this, okay?” Tara says quietly. “For all the grumping your brother does about the man, Law really isn’t that bad a guy, you know. I mean he got me the interview at the ad agency for my job. He went in with Tucker and Walker on their shipping business. He was helpful with Shepherd when Shep owed all that money. And he’s a huge contributor to Silas’s distillery business. I don’t think he’s the bad guy you think he—”
“He’s a crime kingpin, Tara,” I say quietly, shaking my head. “He might do all those other things, but I know Law. I know all about the stories of him growing up. I know what he’s involved in.”
“Do you?”
“Of course, that’s why—”
“That’s why the FBI hasn’t picked him up yet? That’s why you got chewed out for barging into his bar with a gun?” She smiles, shrugging. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you a pretty story here, but honestly, the few dealings I’ve had with him, he seemed like not a bad guy. I mean, rough and kinda scary, but not bad.”
She smiles again.
“Look, I’m not gonna comment on…” She grins. “You know, whatever totally didn’t happen with you and Law earlier today that has you all blushing and glowing—”
“I’m not glowing.”
“You are, but forget it. I’m not going to say anything about him being twice your age or the complete shit show it’d be if your brother knew about it. But I’ll say this. Maybe, just maybe, you don’t know Law as well as you think you do. Or, what you think you know isn’t quite what he is.”
“Okay, explain that one.”
She shrugs. “Maybe you’ve just kept this idea of him in your head, and now that you’ve got this power as an FBI agent, you think ‘going after him’ is the right thing to do, even if he’s not what you think.”
“But he is what I think,” I grumble. “And it is the right thing to go after him.”
Tara sighs, shaking her head. “Jesus, you’re as stubborn as your brother, you know.”
I snort. “More.”
She laughs. “Alright, well, I’m done getting in the middle of this. You’re staying for dinner, yeah?”
“Definitely. And thanks, Tara.”
My sister-in-law smiles. “Anytime. Oh, and feel free to shower upstairs and find something in my closet to wear. I mean someone has to wear those clothes that me and baby bump here can’t fit into anymore.”
Chapter 12
Law
“Do it.”
I growl the words into the phone, my feet up on the desk of my still-wet desk in my darkened, still-wet office. I sink back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Mr. Banner…” I can hear Carlson struggling over the phone, trying to wrap his head around what I’m asking. Carlson’s my accountant, and a damn good one at that. Hell, nothing short of damn good would work for me and my history with the types of businesses I’ve run. He’s good at what he does though. Great with the books, and my books have always needed triple cleaning.
I know he’s against this but I don’t care. It’s my call anyways.
“Just do it.”
“Lawson,” he sighs. “I really have to ask again. Have you been drinking?”
I chuckle darkly. Yes, I have, but not how he means it. Yes, after dealing with the fire guys, and the police, and the insurance asshole who stopped by to check out the damage to the bar, I needed a tall pour of Kentucky whiskey.
After watching her walk on out of here?
Well, after that, I needed a lot more than one glass.
But I’m not drunk. I’m not crazy. In fact, I’m thinking clearer than I have in a long damn time. And this decision has been a long time coming.
“No, I haven’t. And yes, I’m sure of this.”
“Lawson,” Carson groans again. “The long tail on an investment like this… I mean, as your financial consultant, I have to tell you how big a mark this is going to put on your portfolio. The returns are just too—”
“I said do it,” I growl. “Sell it off. I know Mitch Martin up in Lexington has had his eye on it.”
I’d say Mitch is another of my “competitors,” but he isn’t really. Just an old friend from my wilder younger days who’s still in the game. And pretty soon, I won’t have any competitors.
Carlson breathes.
“Where’s this coming from, “Law?”
“We got older, Carlson.”
“And financially, you’re doing amazing, I don’t see why—”
“Because you can’t spend it in jail, that’s why.”
“We’ve had feelers out for years. And none of our sources have ever said anything about anyone putting anything together on you. Not DEA, not FBI. So where did this come from?”
Her.
That where it’s coming from. But I won’t say that. Of course not. It’s weird enough to admit it to myself. There’ve been women in my life over the years, but none of them have hit me like this. None of them have hit me anywhere as deep as Taylor has. They’ve been temporary things — things I passed quickly because my real focus was on work, and creating my empire.
But not anymore.
I’ve missed out on things. I’ve missed out on a family. And I won’t be missing out anymore. Not after she came crashing into my bar and into my world today. Because after Taylor, it’s all fucking different — everything I thought, everything I thought I was.
Because now, I’ve found what I want, and I’m going after it. I’m going after her.
I let her walk out earlier, but no more. That’s not happening again. Things could have gone worse today. That fire could have spread. Those tanker trucks could have exploded closer. And when you start looking at life like that, it triggers something inside of you.
This is my second chance. She’s my second chance. My last chance, maybe.
Taylor’s not wrong about me. I am a bad man, and I’ve done terrible things—things I’m not proud of but things I know I wouldn’t change if I had the chance. Because every decision in my life has brought me here.
To her.
And I’m never letting go of that.
She wasn’t wrong about me, no. But I stand by what I said to her. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know the plans I’ve already put into motion, or the ones I’m setting loose right now. Because yeah, I’ve been a bad man. I’ve been the devil.
But even devils get a chance at redemption. And she’s mine. She’s my angel. And next time, she won’t be walking away. Not ever.
“Carlson.”
I know what I’m about to do. My stake with cartels running guns and cocaine through Sugar County and hell, pretty much all of eastern Kentucky, are my last ties to that life. The cash I make from owning those “rights” nets me a lot, Carson’s right. And I’d be an idiot to give them up.
But like I said, I’ve found what I truly want. And what I want is soft, and sweet, and good. What I want is a break from the rough, dark, vicious world I’ve spent far too long of my life in.
It’s time for me to see the light.
It’s time for a change.
It’s time to make her mine.
“Contact Mitch Martin. He’s interested, trust me. See what he says, but if the offer is anywhere at all north of that n
umber I gave you, it’s his. The Cartel has already vetted and approved of him to handle logistics through Kentucky if I’m out. So if he wants it, sell it. Sell the last bit, and we’re done with that part and that path.”
Carlson takes a deep breath, blowing the air out through his lips for a long few seconds before he clears his throat.
“You’re the boss.”
Damn right I am. I’m the King, actually. A king who’s about to get his hands clear of any and all underworld business. After this, all of it will be above the level — my entire empire will be legit, on the books, and legal.
I’m the King alright. And this King needs his Queen.
Now.
Chapter 13
Taylor
The lights are off outside, but I know he’s in there. His truck is still outside the bar, and besides that, with what happened earlier today, I know he’s still here, wrapping things up.
I shouldn’t be here, but there’s no going back. Not now. If I go back now, I’ll never know, and I’ll always wonder.
…I’ll always wonder if maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about him. And if I am, and I walk away from, well, from whatever it is I found earlier when he and I crashed together, I’ll hate myself for it.
There’s alcohol on my breath. Not a lot, but just enough to take some of the edge off. Enough to give me the courage to come here, and to walk through that door. It’s unlocked, and I can feel my pulse thundering through me as I slowly pull it open and step inside.
The place looks a little cleaned up, like maybe he’s had a cleaning crew in to get some of the water damage. Enough that the lights are back on. Well, a few of them. Right now, the place is just illuminated by the backlights glowing under the bottles of the bar, and from the neon pink and teal sign for a rum brand up on one wall. I step inside, swallowing thickly as my eyes get used to the semidarkness.
And then I spot him.
Law is sitting at the bar, his back to me as he sorts through some paperwork. He’s in his usual jeans and black t-shirt, and he’s nursing a glass of what looks like whiskey, neat. The glow of the sign catches the profile of his face, etching lines across his gorgeous, chiseled jaw, and I tremble as I open my mouth.