Charlie wanted to know more, but she didn’t ask. “He tries to keep to himself,” she said carefully. “But he’s been hanging around me.” Then she offered another truth that could be misconstrued. “He and I did laundry together last night. And he’s going to fix my car.”
His brow furrowed. “I see. And did he tell you to apply for this job?”
“No.”
“Have you slept with him?” Again, that intense stare of his. It could peel paint off the walls, it was so forceful.
Charlie blinked and scrambled for a response. She hadn’t expected that question! “That’s none of your business.” She shifted in her chair and stared down at the carpet, deliberately conveying her discomfort.
“Everything is my business. Now, answer the question.”
She glanced up at him and could feel a blush heating her cheeks. Damn. She was good at acting, but not that good. What’s the deal with the blushing? “Not yet, but I think it might happen.” Well, she wanted it to happen anyway.
Despite Axel’s protestations, they had a connection. Charlie had never felt anything like it before.
“And how do you know? Woman’s intuition?” His tone was mocking.
“More like a good bet,” Charlie said, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “He wants me.”
He laughed at that, eyes dancing. “Don’t flatter yourself. There are dozens of hellions to choose from, all wet and eager to get a piece of the president. What makes you so special?”
Beauregard clearly had issues with women. She could use that to her advantage. Charlie affected a sensual smile. “I have a trick or two up my sleeve.” She thrust her chest out. “I might surprise you.”
His eyes widened. “Maybe.” His perusal wasn’t sexual, merely assessing. In a twisted way, she thought he admired her moxie. “And where do your loyalties lie?”
She hesitated a moment on that question. If she said with Beauregard, he’d know she was lying. If she said the club, she’d come off as a traitor for trying to work at the manor.
It was a trick question, one designed to trip her up.
“With myself,” she finally answered, and it happened to be the truth.
Byron studied her a moment or two before nodding. His blue eyes were a bit less frosty. “Discretion is required with this position.”
“I understand.”
“You’ll be in my home, around my personal effects. You might see or hear things that are…questionable.” His lips twisted.
Like what? Murders? Charlie nodded, but she wondered what she was agreeing to, exactly.
“And what happens under this roof, stays here. Do you understand?” he asked, nostrils flaring.
Oh, yeah. Charlie was in the big leagues now. She was playing a game with a very dangerous man. And she got the distinct impression if she defied him she might not make it out of this job alive. Maybe not by his hand, but he had a dozen or more guards outside.
“I do.”
“Good. I’d like an update now and then on the club. You hellions overhear things all the time. That kind of information could be useful.”
She raised a brow before he continued.
“You may not be aware, but I have a business relationship with the MC, so you don’t need to worry. My intentions are friendly.”
Charlie seriously doubted that, but she had to admire his lying skills. He was damn good at it. For a moment, she wondered which one of them lied more and if they had a lie-off, who would win?
“You want news? Nothing else? And nobody will get hurt, right?” she asked, eyes Bambi-wide.
“Of course, just the headlines.”
She pretended to think it over a minute or two. “Okay, then. I can do that.” She’d talk this over with Axel when she got back to Hades and they’d figure out a plan.
“Good. So, if you can promise this little…arrangement between you and I will remain private, then I’d like to offer you the job.”
Charlie tried not to show her glee. She’d done it! She’d gotten access to his home. “It’ll be our secret.”
“Congratulations. You’ve got the job.” He extended his hand across the desk and Charlie stared at it for a moment. Her palms started to sweat. She didn’t want to touch the man who’d killed her father.
Unless it was to punch him in the face. But courtesy forced her to shake it.
She placed her suddenly cold hand in his and he shook it, squeezing slightly. Then his hand gripped hers and he pulled her forward, jerking her against the desk. “I reward loyalty very handsomely, Ms. Nash. Remember that.”
“And what about disloyalty?”
His gaze held hers for an uncomfortably long moment. “Pray you never find out.”
Charlie swallowed the lump in her throat.
He released her hand and relaxed back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head. “My housekeeper will be in touch with all the details in a couple of days. And if you’ll excuse me, I have a call. ” Byron pressed a flashing red button on the phone and picked up the receiver. “Mr. Krug, so sorry to keep you waiting. Tell me what I can do for you.”
Charlie allowed herself a casual glance at the vault before she turned and walked to the door. Soon.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Axel approached a young woman in a tailored black business suit seated by herself at Hades. Since none of the townsfolk made enough money to afford those kind of fancy threads, he assumed the woman was the club’s lawyer. Jane looked to be in her mid-thirties, pretty, with black hair that fell to her chin, pale skin, and a curvy build from what Axel could make out around the booth. She wore black-framed glasses, which she kept pushing back up her snub-nose.
The Horsemen had placed Jane on retainer in case they had another go-around with the feds. She worked at a high-powered law firm in Dallas. After church the night before, he’d called and left a message with her assistant, and he’d received a terse voicemail from Jane in reply, stating she’d drive over the next morning
“Mr. Robert Rollins, Jr.?” she asked, glancing up from her iPad.
Axel flinched. “Yes, that’s me.” He’d been named after Joker, and he didn’t like to dwell on it. The less he spoke about, thought of, or acted like his father, the better off he’d be.
“I’m Jane Hunter.” She stared at his outstretched hand, blinking owlishly. “I don’t do that.”
He glanced at the dirt and grease which always seemed to be permanently caked around his fingernails. He self-consciously ran the back of his hand down the length of his t-shirt. “Sorry, it’s a hazard of working with cars. My hands are always rough and dirty.”
“Oh, it isn’t your hands,” Jane said with a shudder. “I don’t like to be touched.”
“Okay. Sorry.” Axel slid into the opposite side of the booth. He faintly remembered Captain saying Jane had some quirks.
“It’s fine.” Jane tapped on her tablet. “Give me a minute to finish this email and we’ll start the meeting.”
Axel dipped his head in agreement and glanced around the place while she finished up. There were a few brothers scattered at other tables, and a cluster of them at the counter, as well as a citizen. Voodoo, Steele, and Coyote nodded to him. Axel glanced at the citizen. He looked familiar; Axel thought he might’ve been at Perdition once or twice. He wore a pair of ratty jeans and Axel could make out angel wings tattooed on his back, around the black muscle shirt he wore.
Axel was curious. Every tattoo told a story, but he needed to concentrate on his last will and testament.
One of the hellions brought him a cup for his coffee. Axel thought her name might be Wendy, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d seen her working at Perdition before. The hellions worked wherever they were needed. She held a half-full coffee carafe in her other hand and filled his cup, and then turned to Jane. “Do you want a warm-up?”
Jane covered her coffee cup with one hand and bit her bottom lip. Unlike the stark-white, generic-looking mugs the diner used, hers was black and had a
JH on one side. She’d evidently brought her own with her. Yet another quirk? “Was that just made?”
“Yes,” Wendy answered.
“From bottled water?” Jane asked.
“Yes,” Wendy said with a nod. “Like the other cup I made you.”
With a nod, Jane pushed her coffee mug towards Wendy, who filled it up then walked away.
After Jane finished her email, she pulled out a manila folder and a pen, both of which she handed to Axel while taking great care to keep her fingers far from his. “I’m assuming your predecessor didn’t tell you everything about me.”
“Like what?”
“I have Asperger’s and occasionally, I can be rude. If I’m rude to you, let me know.” Jane blurted this out without a trace of embarrassment.
“Noted,” Axel said. According to Captain, Jane was a bit rough around the edges. She had a blunt manner, but that didn’t bother him none. As a rule, Axel liked straight-shooters. He noticed she’d emptied the sugar and sweetener packets from their porcelain holder and was methodically placing them back in by color, so they all faced the same way. Evidently, she had a touch of obsessive compulsive behavior, too. In his book, that wasn’t a bad trait in a lawyer.
“As I said in the message, I’m not a probate lawyer, Mr. Rollins,” she informed him. “I work on criminal cases exclusively now, but we do some probate work at the firm, so I grabbed one of our standard will templates to get the process rolling. I’ll hand it over to another lawyer, and he or she will be in contact with you to finalize everything.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you comin’ out here on such short notice, and for your willingness to hang out for a couple of hours.” Her firm was located in Dallas, and Hell was a bit of a hike.
He started adding in items. Jane had also marked items that needed his attention with yellow sticky tabs.
“In your message, you stated you were going to leave everything to your brother and his wife. Are you certain? You could establish a trust or—”
“I’m sure.” Ryker was the future of their family, not Axel. He never intended to bring a wife and child into this life, so he hoped Ryker and Elizabeth had several babies. Their mother deserved grandchildren, and anything Axel could do to ensure that happened was good with him.
As he made his way through the paperwork, he caught Steele and Coyote staring at the lawyer from the corner of his eye. “I think you have admirers,” he said, giving the boys a quelling look. The last thing he needed was a showdown over a woman. Rebellion in the ranks could be fatal right now.
Jane glanced up from her coffee. “Come again?”
He jerked a thumb at his brothers. “They’ve been staring at you.”
Jane glanced over and shrugged before turning back to him.
“Not into bikers?” he asked.
“I prefer to focus on my career,” she said, returning to her tablet. Her fingers danced over the screen, drawing the conversation to a close.
Axel got the implied message. She didn’t like to talk about her private life. Check. He’d been raised with Southern manners, meaning it was important to ask someone about their life, their family. The personal touch was especially expected in small-town businesses. And he made sure to be damn personable to his clientele at Seventh Circle. It kept people walking in his front door.
He decided to leave her be and perused the document, initialing and adding items where he needed to. All in all, this was a decent morning. He was going to cross this off his to-do list and with any luck, he might make it to the garage before ten.
And then all hell busted loose.
Beauregard’s SUV rolled up in the parking lot. Axel observed from the window and didn’t bother to hide his irritated groan from Jane.
While his guards stood by the SUV, Beauregard waltzed into Hades with a grin. At the counter, his brothers tensed, automatically going for their weapons, but Axel held up a hand to ward them off. They’d all get out of this meeting alive, thank you very much.
Beauregard tipped an imaginary hat to the brothers before he strolled over to Axel. “Mornin’, Prez. Mind if I have a seat?”
Hell, yes, he minded, but he doubted he could dissuade the bastard. “We’re in the middle of a meeting. Now isn’t a good time,” Axel said.
“You’ll make time for me,” Beauregard insisted. “And it won’t take long, I promise.” He eyed Jane then paused to give her a twice-over, his lips parting. “Well, aren’t you cute as a calico kitten? What’s your name?”
Jane just stared at him.
Gritting his teeth, Axel motioned to the lawyer. “This is Jane Hunter, the club’s attorney. Like I said, we’re having a meeting.”
Beauregard held a hand out. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Byron Beauregard. And I’m—”
Jane pursed her lips. “I don’t shake hands.”
Beauregard, the fucking drama queen, placed the offending hand on his chest, his mouth opening in a wide O. “I can see my reputation precedes me.”
“It isn’t personal, but I know exactly who you are, Mr. Beauregard. Even if I could shake hands, I’d never touch yours.”
Axel chuckled into his palm. She might be rude, but in all the right ways. Nothing about her cool, buttoned-down demeanor hinted at the slightest attraction to the bastard. Go, Jane. She had good taste.
“Don’t believe all the rumors. I’m just a business owner in this town.”
Axel could read amusement on Beauregard’s face. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Maybe getting the brush-off from a pretty woman was a new experience for him.
Jane sighed, not even bothering to disguise her impatience. “We both know you’re more than that. You have ties to the Dixie Mafia. It’s presumed, though not proven, that you served as an enforcer for them for a few years, before you moved up in the ranks.”
“Most people wouldn’t be bold enough to say that to my face.” He watched her, unblinking, testing her mettle.
She didn’t blink. “I’m not most people.”
Axel wasn’t sure if she understood the undercurrent of threat in Beauregard’s tone or if she chose to ignore it. Either way, Axel was alarmed on her behalf. He clenched his jaw and watched, waiting to intervene if this got out of hand.
Beauregard’s features softened. “No, you aren’t. But for your information, I own Crossroads Moonshine. Some of my family are in state politics. We’re fine, upstandin’ Texas citizens.” He waved a hand at the booth. “Mind if I sit down a spell?”
“Yes, but we both know it won’t stop you.”
Axel smothered another laugh. Beauregard ignored him.
Jane slid over, taking her briefcase and coffee with her. She held on to the black case as though it were a shield, placing it between Byron and herself. For a moment, Axel thought she might clunk him over the head with it.
Damn, I’d love to see that.
Beauregard casually draped an arm over the back of the booth, almost touching her, but not quite. “We’re fixin’ to have a grand opening soon. You ought to stop by the party. It’s going to be quite a shindig.”
“I can’t.” Jane checked her watch, fiddling with the dials.
Beauregard smirked. “I haven’t even told you when it is.”
“Whenever it is, I can’t go,” she stated. “I don’t go to parties.”
“Ever?” He grinned.
“Ever,” she confirmed
Jane didn’t seemed to understand pick his flirtatious manner. Axel wondered if she was this awkward around all men or just psychopaths like Beauregard. How far would he push her out of her comfort zone? Speaking of the devil, what was his deal? Did he want to mess with her because she worked with the club? Or maybe he liked a challenge. By giving him the brush-off, she’d unintentionally gained his interest. Poor Jane.
“You don’t like me, do you?” Beauregard asked.
Jane didn’t even look at him. “No.”
Axel tensed, waiting for the fallout, but Beauregard just threw back his head and laugh
ed. “Well, I’ll be damned. You don’t hold back, do you?”
She didn’t reply.
“Ah, lucky for you, I appreciate honesty, especially in a woman. You, my dear, are a rare breed. Are you sure you won’t come to the party?”
She rolled her eyes and shifted in her seat. “Positive.”
Then because he was a ruthless, tenacious bastard, Beauregard switched tactics. “Are you takin’ on new clients?”
Axel knew he wasn’t in the market for an attorney. The Beauregards had an army of them already on retainer. Not to mention his mafia buddies. They kept a couple law firms in Dallas in business. They had to be prepared, considering the high probability of legal troubles they faced.
“No, I’m working on a death penalty case. It’s taking up a lot of my time,” she said.
He raised a brow. “You must be a big-time lawyer, then. What’s the case? Would I know it?”
Axel could read her irritation. Her left eye had developed a twitch. It was understandable; Beauregard had a way of working a person’s nerves.
“It’s a high-profile case, Oscar Valentine,” she said.
Beauregard whistled. “I heard about the Valentine murders. They say he’s killed a dozen women.”
“He’s been charged with three murders,” Jane said, her fingertips tapping out a rhythm on the Formica table top. Axel could feel the unease rolling off her. “So far. But the evidence is largely circumstantial in his case.”
“You’re defendin’ a psychopath, yet you won’t give me the time of day.” Beauregard leaned back in the booth and moved a bit closer to her. If the bootlegger tried to cop a feel, Axel would teach him a lesson about bad touches, the hard way. Regardless of the consequences.
She glanced up sharply. “There’s one very large difference, Mr. Beauregard.”
“Call me Byron.”
“I believe my client is innocent, Mr. Beauregard,” she said.
“And you think I’m guilty, I take it?” Beauregard chuckled to himself. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me he’s pulled one over on you.”
Hell on Wheels (Four Horsemen MC Book 6) Page 10
