Bail Out

by Jade Chandler

  “Sunday?”

  “Thursday you drunk fuck.” He shook his head at me. “Get your shit together.”

  “Don’t wanna.” I ambled back to bed. “Life’s over anyway.”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you keep her, you want her, she wants you. Why the fucking drama?” Viper threw his hands up.

  “The club property clause. She owns a business, and she’s not giving us a share for any reason,” I mumbled, head in my hands.

  “You asked her that?”

  “I’d never fucking ask her to do that, would you give up that shit for love?” No one would, and more, I wouldn’t take what was hers. “I signed a sheet, I promised her I wasn’t after her company.”

  “Shit, you always have to be complicated, different, go a goddam different path than the rest of us.” He sat beside me. “Couldn’t fucking believe you married her. Did you divorce her?”

  I shook my head. I’d have to but I didn’t want to do it. I liked Elle being my wife, if only she could be my wife and my old lady. But that wasn’t happening. Fuck I needed a drink.

  I stood and he pulled me back down. “No booze.”

  “Fuck off.” I went to stand again.

  His arms shot out and knocked me off balance.

  “I must still be drunk.”

  “Yeah, totally pickled.” He looked at me with disgust. “I told one of the guys with a woman they should do this, but the fuckers were pussies. Rock flat out said he’d give you all the booze you wanted. Dare wasn’t even there. Sad when it was down to me or Thorn.”

  I shuddered. “Thorn would just have knocked me unconscious.”

  “Don’t think I’m not considering it,” Viper growled.

  A knock on the door had him up and moving to it, he turned back to me with a pot of coffee and a cup. “Drink it all.” He set the pot on the stand next to the bed.

  I poured a cup although I didn’t want it. Already the dull ache had transformed into pulsing pain flashing through me with each breath. But I knew Viper too well, the bastard would tie me up and pour it down my throat if I didn’t comply. The coffee chased away the last bit of whiskey fog. I headed to the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Fuck, I looked like shit. Where did I get the black eye? I’d blacked out long hours, but surely I’d remember a fight.

  Pathetic. I wasn’t pathetic. No, not me, not anymore. I stripped and showered again, then shaved the start of the beard from my face. Dressed again, I walked out into the room.

  Viper nodded. “That’s better.”

  I shrugged on my cut. Time to bury Elle in a deep hole and move on because pitiful drunk wasn’t in my vocabulary. I’d played that fool once before and sworn to never do it again. No, I had control and experience with living with rejection. Unlike with my parents, this was my fault. I’d walked away from her love, sure it’d been for the best reason, but I’d left her, destroyed her faith in me.

  “Who gave me a black eye?” I touched the black bruise under my eye.

  “You don’t remember?” Viper arched an eyebrow. “Of course not. Gator gave it to you, punched you out that first night.”

  Fuck. He’d been the one to let Elle know she was safe. What had he witnessed? I didn’t want to know. Already teetering on the edge, knowing exactly what pissed him so much would send me back to the bottle. I needed out of here, out of this room, away from the clubhouse.

  I hadn’t made it three steps toward the back door before Viper blocked my path. “Dare needs to talk to you. You stay here.”

  “Get out of my way,” I growled.

  “Rebel, get your ass over here,” Jericho called from the other end of the hall.

  I stared down Viper another minute before I turned and stomped toward my Prez. I sat next to him in the back corner.

  “You look better.” Jericho grinned at me. “You’re a talkative drunk.”

  I held my hand up. “Don’t tell me.”

  Dare strode toward us, an envelope in his hand, and a murderous look on his face. He threw the manila envelope at me. “I fucking hate lawyers.”

  I’d only opened up the envelope when he returned with a bottle of whiskey and sat across from us.

  I glanced through the papers, a merger agreement between Jackson Bonds and Brotherhood Bonds. I dropped the papers to the table. “I don’t want her company.”

  “Stupid fuck,” Dare mumbled.

  “This merger lets you claim her as your old lady.” Jericho tapped fingers on the table.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Fucking stubborn ass,” Jericho growled. “Fine, I’ll lay it out for you. We get 10 percent of her company and she gets 10 percent of ours. Then we provide a line of credit, our cash, for the two companies to do the expansion you both want. The holding company buys them, each partner owning 50 percent of all new businesses. The name of the new companies, your company, hers, all of that is up to you guys to decide. She has the experience, we have the money. The merger trumps the property clause.”

  My mind reeled from information overload. “Okay, but she doesn’t need us.” She already planned to do what Jericho suggested.

  “She needs you,” Dare grunted.

  “And, the attorneys seem to think Jackson Bonds doesn’t have the cash it’ll take to expand. Of course, if the deal goes through, our books and hers will be examined by lawyers, everything up and up.”

  “What’s in it for us?” I didn’t understand why he’d even consider this.

  “More revenue. Our family made whole.” Jericho’s fierce scowl made me want to back away. He looked like he was a question away from decking me. “Dare’s been working on this since you married her, but we had to speed them up when you fucked everything up.”

  I stared between them. “That long?”

  “You love her. You want her. This makes it all work out and gives us a stronger business.”

  Dare stood up. “Read that shit forward and backward, then go get your woman.”

  A flicker of hope sparked to life. Maybe she wasn’t gone. I could fix this. It’d take groveling, but I’d beg her to forgive me. I wouldn’t give up until she was mine.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Elle

  My new life was simple—work and bed with frequent ice cream binges in between. All the ice cream in the world wouldn’t fix me, but it was the only food group that appealed.

  After today, the weekend loomed large. I needed to make a plan that didn’t involve hours in bed watching sappy Hallmark movies

  The intercom buzzed. “Chet’s here.”

  Time to work out the long-range plan for expansion, another dream dashed, well more like put on hold.

  “Elle.” Chet sat down across from me at the small conference table in my office. “You look terrible. You okay?”

  A dry laugh escaped. Well, Chet, no I’m not okay, I’m a fucking wreck, but let’s pretend I’m fine. Why did people do that? Tell me how bad I looked then hope I wouldn’t unburden my problems on them. “It’s been a shittastic week, but today’s the last day, so there’s that.”

  Chet stared at me, caught in the no-man-zone of women’s emotions.

  “Give me your projections.” I cut the poor guy a break.

  “Yes, well, here it is, unfortunately, it’ll be a bit before we can expand.”

  I scanned the projection, seven years was too damn long. I studied it closely. “How much of our revenue did you put to this goal?”

  “All the profit, which is roughly 40 percent of what we bring in. I anticipated a modest 10 percent growth each year, but we’ve been growing revenue at 13 percent.” He talked numbers more but I tuned out, focusing on the yearly projections.

  “If we grew at 20 percent, how long would it take to be ready to expand?” I tapped my pen o
n the table, thinking about how I might refocus our team on earning more.

  He typed on his laptop keyboard. “Three years, but realistically we can’t—”

  “Redo this projection, assuming 15 percent this year and 20 percent each year after. We should be able to begin acquiring in the last quarter of year four or maybe early in year five.” I handed him back the spreadsheet. “Email it to me this afternoon. I will work on the plan to achieve the revenue goals over the weekend.”

  Chet opened and closed his mouth. “Have you considered a loan, we have collateral and could get a $350,000 line of credit, added to our bottom line, that would be ample funds—”

  “I want at least $450,000, on top of our safety margin. Debt isn’t the best approach, no we’ll wait until we have the money.” I closed my acquisitions folder. Disappointment settled on top of my general unhappiness, beating me down until drawing in breath took conscious effort. “Thanks, Chet. I’ll expect the report after lunch.”

  He closed his laptop. “Got it. Sorry we can’t move faster.”

  “We’ll focus on improving at home before we move to acquisitions.” I didn’t have a clue how to motivate my employees, to be honest, I’d lost my own way, how the hell could I lead others.

  Chet left and I moved back to my desk to sign off on last night’s bonds then approved payroll before moving onto the report on each of my commissioned employees. Both bonding agents and bail enforcement agents earned commission based on their work, it made up more than half their pay.

  My door banged open. I jerked up my head from the latest report to find Jessica standing in my door, arms crossed and serious attitude tattooed across her face.

  “Why the hell am I hearing about your breakup from Zero and not you?” She stormed in, leaving the door open. Great, now half the office would get an update on my personal business.

  “Hey, Jess.” I had nothing, no energy for her, for anyone.

  “Oh, sweetie.” She sat in the leather chair in front of my desk. “Men are bastards. Please quit looking so sad.”

  Is that how I looked?

  “Come on, get your skinny ass up out of that chair, we’re going to lunch and you’ll tell me everything.” She stood and when I didn’t move she tapped her high heel on my carpeted floor, the muffled tap, tap, tap the only noise in the office.

  She wouldn’t leave, and she would turn obnoxious. But if I left, I wasn’t coming back, telling Jess would ruin me for work, for life, so I packed my laptop before heaving myself up. I’d swear it’d gone from thirty pounds to eighty pounds overnight.

  I stopped at Alice’s desk. “I’m heading to lunch and home. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be on my laptop later this afternoon.”

  “Got it.” She gave me a quick wave before turning back to her keyboard. Alice had been the only one to not ask me a thousand questions this week, and for that I should send her flowers or chocolates, maybe both.

  “We’re going to the diner.” My favorite lunch spot in the world, and it was only two blocks away.

  We seated ourselves in a back corner booth and Mamie, one of two waitresses who worked the greasy spoon, showed up in seconds. “The usual?” she asked.

  “Yup.” They had the best Reuben sandwich in town.

  “I’ll have the cheeseburger and fries, sweet tea.” Jess stuck her menu back behind the napkin container.

  Mamie hurried away to another table.

  “So many fine dining choices and you pick this place.” Jess scratched at something dried on the table with her sleek pink nail. “Now tell me, what did he do?”

  “Nothing, he didn’t do a thing. I told him I loved him and he didn’t do anything.” I bit back the tears that wanted to flow free. No more tears, not here, not anywhere. I unloaded the story, starting with the twelve-day absence and ending with Gator stopping by.

  “What about the divorce papers?”

  I shrugged. “I told the lawyer to call when they he received them, I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Isn’t that weird?” Jess tapped her nails on the laminate tabletop. “Zero said he’s fucked up about it.”

  Emotion lit up inside me, surely I wasn’t petty enough to be satisfied he hurt too. Yep, I was exactly that petty. I didn’t want it to be easy for him even if he didn’t love me.

  “So he’s had a rough week, doesn’t matter, he walked out. We’re done. It’s over.” I killed the hope trying to take root inside.

  “So it’s over, and you went and fell in love.” Jess stared at me, reading between the lines, in the way only a best friend can. “That’s a first for you.”

  “I can’t say I’m eager to repeat the experience.”

  Mamie delivered our food. The scent of corned beef and sauerkraut lifted my mood. I gave Mamie a half smile before I bit into the deliciousness. Closing my eyes I savored the flavors. At least I still had this little piece of heaven.

  We ate in silence a few minutes and the Reuben fortified me.

  Jess patted her mouth with one of the cheap table napkins, the gesture looked ridiculous in here. “You make up with your daddy yet?”

  She sucker punched me. He was a whole other kind of nightmare I didn’t want to deal with. “Not going to.” I bit into my sandwich to prevent her from grilling me, not that it’d work. She was crafty and patient.

  “He signed over the company, you told me he tried to make amends when you introduced him to Rebel, really, you can’t shove away everyone who loves you.”

  “I didn’t shove Rebel away.” I spoke with my mouth full. How dare she insinuate I had?

  “Maybe you pushed him, pushed it more than he was ready for.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But if he didn’t man up and admit his feelings, then you’re better without him.” She pointed her finger at me. “Your daddy is another matter. You have to make up with him. He’s family.”

  I missed Daddy, our talks, Sunday brunch at his house, everything. He was my only family. The outrage from six weeks ago had faded but the sharp pain of missing him remained.

  Narrowing her eyes at me, Jess opened her mouth to lay into me again.

  “Okay, you’re right. I need to call him, but next week. I can’t do emotion yet.”

  Jess gave me a huge smile then ate a fry drowned in ketchup. “Good. You need to make it right with him, soon.”

  “Got it, quit nagging.”

  “I do not nag.” The indignant arch of her brows was too much.

  I laughed, scratchy at first, but it turned into a full belly laugh when she laughed with me.

  “Maybe a little,” she admitted.

  I hadn’t laughed since Rebel left, and it felt good, freeing, like maybe a little bit of my old self remained. I’d find myself again, find happiness again, one day.

  Jess and I spent another hour talking about nothing, stories about her work, me firing Mel, and somewhere in the mix, a little bit of perspective returned. My world wasn’t over, the heartache still stole my breath at times, but each day would be better. Jacksons didn’t quit. And I was a Jackson.

  At home, I refused to hide in my PJs in bed. Instead, I cleaned the house from top to bottom then went to work on my plan for work. My eyes started burning and I yawned. I glanced at the clock, surprised it was already after eleven. Tonight I was tired from working, not ready to sleep because I needed to hide from reality. That was over. I saved the rough beginning of my plan and shut down my computer.

  Upstairs, I changed into pajamas and climbed into bed. I spent a few seconds wondering if Rebel missed me like I missed him, but then I shoved the thought away. He was my past. I needed to focus on my future.

  * * *

  I woke feeling better than I had since...no, I wasn’t going there. I hit the shower and spent extra time pampering myself with a masque and my in-depth skin routine. Jess did
this stuff religiously, but I only remembered a couple times a month, still my skin tingled and my mood lifted. I threw on my lazy day clothes, comfy gym shorts and tank top, then went to feed my grumbling stomach.

  Downstairs I ate a couple toaster waffles before I settled into a new book. My doorbell rang right when the cowboy was ready to get under the skirt of his new love. I ignored the doorbell, surely the salesman would go away. The doorbell rang again, an irritated trio of rings. Leaving my tablet on the end table, and my hero a page away from what we’d both been waiting for, I hurried to the door.

  “Settle yourself.” The person had moved to pounding on my door.

  I glanced through the peephole—my body froze, pain barreled into me fresh and new—I stared into Rebel’s face.

  What was he doing here? I couldn’t deal with him, no way. He could pound away, I wasn’t talking to him. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I held, then my door knob turned.

  The fucking key. He still had the key to my place. Anger flared to life, almost making me forget the panic and pain. I threw open the door. Rebel glanced up and down me before the sexy grin I couldn’t forget spread across his face.

  “What?” I barked out over the anxiety holding my throat hostage.

  “Baby, we need to talk.”

  Shocked by the sensual tone of voice, he slipped right past me into my house. I stood there unable to process what was happening. Why? Who? My brain clogged with unanswered questions and my heart wept with overflowing emotion. Those simple words had shattered my defenses, letting a flood of feeling sweep me away.

  Rebel stepped to me, inches from me. The scent of leather and man wafted by me, then the door shut with a bang, bringing me out of my stupor.

  “I’m so fucking sorry.” Then he kissed me.

  Pushed back against my wall, he devoured me with his kiss, lit me up and for the first time since we’d fought, I was back. Passion exploded inside me and I couldn’t stop it, didn’t even want to try. I pressed against him, my hands lost in his hair, my body alive again.

  When he stepped back from me, the air left my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. No, he had to stay, come closer, make me forget the nightmare of the past week.