Mallory’s voice trickled out of the office next to Kelton’s. “I can do that. Sir, do you mind if I leave at the normal time today?”
I was intent on hearing her boss’s answer until Denim’s husky laugh filtered out of Kelton’s office. Tingles broke out on my skin, and I was officially, utterly, and royally screwed.
“Seriously, Denim.” Kelton was all business. “The Feds have no cause to send you back to prison if you don’t cooperate. They may have sped up the parole board’s decision, but your prison record is clean for the early release program.”
“Dude, the government can do anything. If they can make a murder charge go away, then they can fabricate shit to put my ass back in jail.”
Kelton sighed as though he were one second away from shouting at Denim. “I thought you wanted to clear your name.”
“Do you know who killed Alvarez?” Anger simmered in Denim’s tone. “Even if we did find the neighbor or the person who actually shot Hector, would they willingly speak up or confess?”
“I’ll take a look at the offer, but that’s as far as it will go. You don’t need to sign anything. I’ll talk to the Feds as well. Now tell me how things went with Duke.”
After walking into Duke’s apartment the night before, I could guess that Denim and Duke’s reunion hadn’t gone well. Or maybe Denim had been dismayed to see me at Duke’s or horrified to know that Savannah had died. In a way, I was glad Denim hadn’t waited for me at the hospital. He probably would’ve convinced me not to go to Duke’s, and I had no doubt I would’ve given in. Well, maybe not. I had been beyond angry when I’d left Savannah’s room.
I was intent on eavesdropping, but Dina’s voice interrupted my trip down memory lane. “These came for you.”
I jumped a mile, holding back a squeal. The last thing I wanted was for Kelton to find out I was a nosy nellie. Inhaling, I turned to face Dina.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She set a vase of orchids on my desk. “Someone loves you.”
I scrunched my face as the sweet floral aroma wafted over me.
Dina touched my arm, showcasing her blue-painted fingernails. “Did you hear me?”
Ever so slightly, I bobbed my head, trying to muddle through who would send me orchids. I knew it wasn’t Mallory. For one, she knew what that type of flower meant to me. And two, I’d been with her the whole time. “Thank you.”
She studied me for a second. “You look pale.”
I was certain I’d seen a ghost. “I think I’m coming down with something.” That wasn’t a total lie. I didn’t feel as heated as I had when Mallory and I had left the coffee shop, but my sinuses were throbbing. I also didn’t want to tell Dina about Savannah, at least not until I told Kelton.
Dina edged back. “Well, go home if you’re sick. I better get back.” She hurried away as though I were contagious.
I opened the card attached to the vase. I blinked once, then twice, as I read each word.
I know you love orchids, and I hope these flowers bring you a moment of happiness and put a smile on your beautiful face. I’m so sorry for your loss. Xoxo, Denim.
My knees were wobbly as I eased down into my chair, clutching my chest as though I were having a heart attack. Maybe I was.
After all these years, the man remembered. He remembered that I’d told him how my dad had showered my mom with orchids on their wedding anniversary. He remembered that I, too, would rather have orchids than roses.
I heard Denim and Kelton’s voices getting louder, but I was in too much shock to listen.
“Jade,” Kelton said. “Is everything okay?”
I shuddered, swallowed my tears, and blinked a few times before I lifted my head.
Kelton and Denim were standing at my desk. The two tall men, about the same height, stared at me with their penetrating blue eyes. Whereas Kelton’s were a deep blue, Denim’s were a medium shade lighter.
Denim grinned. His smile was sexy and downright heart-ramming when we locked eyes.
“Who sent flowers?” Kelton asked.
I glanced at the card. “They’re from a friend.” I didn’t know if I should out Denim, although Kelton knew about our past relationship.
Kelton tucked a hand into his pants pocket. “Any special occasion?”
I inhaled a quiet breath then told Kelton about my sister.
Kelton tipped his head toward his office. “Let’s talk in my office. Denim, we’ll be in touch.”
“Sure thing,” Denim said. “Jade, can I speak to you alone for a minute?”
“I have work to do.” I hoped I didn’t sound curt. Kelton was all about professionalism, and Denim was a client.
“I need to grab some coffee,” Kelton said. “I’ll give you a minute, Jade.” He wound his way around cubicles until he was gone.
Traitor. Yet he didn’t know about the war raging in my head over Denim or about the one in my heart.
“Thank you,” I whispered to Denim.
He leaned his butt against the edge of my desk, his thigh almost touching my arm. “I’m really sorry about Savannah.”
I scooted my chair away from his thigh, which was giving off heat. At least I felt extremely warm.
“You remembered I liked orchids.” I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I would jump in his arms, ravish his lips, and kiss him until the end of our days.
I sounded like a lovestruck teenager. Pathetic. I was supposed to be mad at Denim. I was supposed to be cold and uncaring. I was supposed to walk away. Yet there I was envisioning how his lips would feel on mine—soft, tingly, and mouthwatering.
His gaze slid over me like warm butter. “I remember a lot of things about us.”
Butterflies took flight in my stomach as I shivered in delight. I was screwed, but I wanted him to tell me more. I wanted him to tell me every memory he had of us, good or bad. Maybe then he could feel my pain. “What else?”
His tongue darted out to lick his lips, slow and subtle. But that small movement held so much power that heat shot south and settled in my core.
“Can I call you later to check on you?” he asked.
“Not a good idea, Denim.”
He frowned. “Give me a chance.”
Kelton returned. “Are you ready, Jade?” Then he went into his office.
Sighing, I grabbed my notebook and a pen. “Sorry, Denim.”
He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m staying at Dillon’s if you change your mind or if you just want to talk.”
My heart punched my sternum hard as my cheeks flamed. The man was making it hard for me, especially with his puppy-dog eyes.
Damn him.
He stabbed a thumb behind him. “I’ll see you around.”
I guessed he would. After all, he was a client, which meant Denim wasn’t going away. Good, bad, or indifferent, I needed to focus on my job and getting justice for Savannah’s death.
19
Denim
Dillon and I waited behind a long line of partygoers to get into The Monarch, Duke’s brand-spanking-new club that he’d just added to his growing portfolio. According to Dillon, Duke owned a total of three clubs around the city.
The line of mainly women wrapped around the warehouse-style building, and a line of cars wheeled in slowly, searching for a parking spot.
“A meat market, if you ask me,” I said to Dillon.
“If this is like Duke’s other clubs, you’ll see why the place is crawling with eager and hungry women.”
I couldn’t imagine what he meant. The clubs I’d been in had a DJ, strobe lights, a bar, and strung-out people throwing themselves at each other on the dance floor.
“Do tell.”
“Nah,” Dillon said. “It’s better to see.”
Whatever. I wasn’t there to dance or get drunk or pick up a woman. Duke was my target. Dillon had suggested we pay our brother a visit at his new club since Duke had all but said he never wanted to see me again.
I couldn’t say that didn’t stab me in
the gut because it did. But I wasn’t backing down, and Dillon wanted to clear the air among the three of us. Dillon was pissed at how Duke had treated me.
“You know, I can handle my own battles with Duke,” I said. “We don’t need to be here.” Frankly, I didn’t even want to go in. It was best if I let things settle for the moment between Duke and me. After all, Kelton had my back with the Feds, so it wasn’t like I had to be at Travers’s beck and call. He was going to be pissed, though.
Kelton had said the only way I was working for Travers was if I wanted to, but I just wanted to find the fucker who’d set me up, not jump through hoops to throw my brother in prison.
“Yes, we do,” Dillon said. “He’s going to tell you why he didn’t visit you in prison. He’s going to sit down and have a drink with us and build that brotherly bond. If he’s coming to my wedding, then I want the three of us to be cordial at least.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “So you’re going to invite him?”
“Look, man. Duke is a mess. When he helped me find Maggie after she was kidnapped, I could tell he was struggling with something. I told you that. I’m tired of it. Now that you’re out, we need to have his back too.”
I didn’t disagree. Savannah’s death had affected him. I’d seen the sadness in his eyes when Jade had unleashed her wrath on him. Still, it would take more than a few words or drinks to get through to Duke Hart. “Why are we waiting in line? Let’s just tell the bouncer we’re related to the owner.”
Dillon chuckled. “He wouldn’t believe us. Every girl in front of us is probably playing that angle. We’re almost there. Were the flowers a hit with Jade?”
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want anything to do with me.” I was getting the feeling that no one did other than Dillon and Grace. But I wasn’t about to feel sorry for myself. I would show her I still loved her, although a persistent voice in my head said I should walk away from Jade until the danger surrounding me was gone.
I wasn’t sure it would ever go away, though. I was related to one of the top criminals in the city if the Feds were right, and that had to bring danger. If Duke’s enemies wanted to infiltrate his organization or hurt him where it counted, then his family members could suffer.
Dillon swatted me on my arm. “Did you hear me?”
I threaded my hands through my hair. “No.”
“I just got a text from Rafe.”
Thoughts of Jade vanished as my ears perked up. I’d been asking Dillon nonstop if he’d heard from his man about Tito’s whereabouts.
Dillon brushed a hand over his unshaven jaw, a move he made when he was unsure of something. “Rumor is Tito will be here tonight.”
My eyebrows had to be in my hairline. “For real? At Duke’s new club?”
I watched as Dillon texted Rafe: Are you sure?
Rafe: My contact is always spot-on.
I hopped out of line. The night just got more interesting, and I wasn’t waiting any longer to get into the club. Screw Duke. Tito was my target now.
Dillon caught my arm, hardening his jaw. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going in whether the bouncer lets me in or not. Tito could be in there.”
Dillon scanned the area with mechanical precision.
I did the same but only because the Feds came to mind. I was sure Travers or his men were skulking nearby, watching Duke, following me, or maybe scoping out Tito.
“You know, bro. You should get out of here,” I said. “Things could get ugly.”
“Fuck you,” Dillon barked. “I told you—I’ve got your back. I’m not going anywhere.”
I got in his face. “Think about your upcoming marriage, your girl, your shelter, your fucking future. You don’t need the hassle.” You don’t need to die because of me.
“Still not leaving.” Dillon started toward the bouncer, who reminded me of Stew. He had the physique of a wrestler; large, bulky biceps; a broad chest; and a small head.
Dillon ponied up to the rope with his ID, ready to shove it in the beefy man’s face.
The bouncer narrowed his dark, beady eyes at Dillon. “Get in line.”
I pulled out my ID too. Maybe if the man saw the Hart name, he wouldn’t give us any flack.
He held up his hand to three women, gesturing to them to wait. My guess was they were sixteen or younger, brandishing fake IDs.
Note to self: Stay away from any ladies inside. The last thing I needed was to spark up a conversation with an underage girl. With my luck, my ass would be carted off to prison once again.
The bouncer pointed his penlight at Dillon’s ID then mine, studying them as though he were confused.
“Let us in,” I said.
“Sorry, dude. I have orders not to let you in tonight.”
Dillon and I exchanged a surprised look. My brother’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets.
The women whined, and one of them cried, “Come on. We’re wasting precious time.”
Dillon tried to climb over the rope. “Fuck this. I’m going in.”
The bouncer blocked Dillon. “I don’t think so.”
Dillon shrugged at me. “I guess if we’re going to get kicked out, we might as well go out in Hart-style fashion.” That meant throwing punches and causing a commotion.
As big as the dude was, he couldn’t take both of us at the same time.
The people in line aimed their phones in our direction.
Dillon’s face lit up. “I’m ready to bash some heads in. It’s been a while.”
I couldn’t blame him. I was tired of getting the word “no” thrown in my face. I was equally exasperated with Duke and his stone-cold, high-and-mighty “I’m in charge and still your older brother” attitude. Regardless, I didn’t need a commotion. Tito might run, and Duke could call the cops on us.
I latched on to Dillon’s arm. “Wait, bro. I have an idea.”
Dillon did a double take, practically frowning. “This better be good, man.”
The bouncer even lifted his dark eyebrows.
“Do you want me to call the cops to let them know you’re letting in underage women?” I flicked my head to the three teenyboppers who had on two-inch-thick makeup to make them look older. “I’m sure the Feds who are watching us right now would storm the club.” Travers would probably jump at the chance to take Duke downtown for questioning and the chance to scare him into talking.
The bouncer scanned the lot.
Smart man.
“Good one, bro,” Dillon said with a scowl.
The three women started to protest.
“Sorry, ladies,” the bouncer said before he turned back to Dillon and me. “If I lose my job, I’m hunting you guys down.” He unlatched the rope and allowed us to walk through.
I ignored his threat, as did Dillon. He didn’t scare me. Besides, I had bigger threats to worry about.
After Dillon and I each paid the thirty-dollar entrance fee, we entered into another dimension. Men with G-strings danced in cages hanging from the high vaulted ceiling. Others carried trays of drinks to partygoers, and some of them knocked back Jell-O shots with their customers, who were mostly women. I imagined some of the men swinging their hips on the packed dance floor batted for the other team. Some of my brethren in prison would get off on this club for sure.
“See?” Dillon shouted over the punk-rock music. “Not your typical club.”
I was about to tell him that it wasn’t as elaborate as I’d imagined, but I tossed out that comment when I saw Jade at the bar. Or maybe my eyes were deceiving me. Maybe the woman with black hair spilling down over her low-cut blouse was Jade’s doppelgänger.
I slapped Dillon’s shoulder. “Bar. Jade is here.”
He whipped his head at the L-shaped bar that lined two sides of the club.
I pushed through the throng of stoners, drunks, and sweaty bodies.
One waiter stopped to let a young blonde stroke his hard-on.
What the fuck is Jade doing here?
Di
llon gripped my shoulder. “Right behind you.”
“Look for Tito,” I tossed out. “He might be up on those couches on the second floor or at the bar up there.”
As large as the space was on the first floor, the second floor was equally as big. The only difference was that I noticed more men above with women walking around either topless or in bikinis.
“Look up at the glass room,” Dillon said in my ear.
I stopped near a high bar table along the wall and craned my neck up.
Duke stood behind the glass, dressed in a tailored suit, looking like he was the head of a mafia organization. Suddenly, I was back in prison. The guards there had the same stance as they observed the cellblock.
Man, my mind was a jumbled pile of shit. I had business with Duke, and I had to find Tito, but every fiber in me screamed to get Jade out of the club. If Tito was there, she could be in danger.
I continued on, shoving and pushing across the football-field-sized room. As soon as I cleared a group of teenagers, I skidded to a halt, and Dillon plowed into me.
Jade flipped her silky black hair behind her, exposing a bare shoulder, as she flirted with that dude I’d seen her with at her office building.
Jealousy trampled me, punching me right in the gut.
Jade giggled then swayed. The dude caught her.
Fuck. She was drunk.
The dude dragged a finger down her bare shoulder when he should’ve been lifting her blouse to cover her skin. I understood that the style of her top was one that slid off one shoulder to create a sexy look, and she was fucking sexy, but every guy in the club was probably eyeing her.
I growled, and if it weren’t for the loud music, the whole club would’ve heard me.
“Who’s the dude?” Dillon asked.
“Dead,” I said.
Jade continued to give the guy her undivided attention, giggling, drinking, and swaying her hips.
I couldn’t blame the guy. Jade was every man’s dream. Her green eyes alone sucked a man in, cocooning him in her seductive bubble.
“If Tito is here, we need—”
I held up my hand. “I know.”
Hart of Vengeance: The Hart Series Page 14
