“All of it?” His eyebrows rise. The denim of his jeans stretches tight as he squats in front of the bag. He draws down the zipper to peek inside and ruffles through the stacks of bills.
“Yes. Plus interest.” I exhale a breath of relief, exhilarated to have this nightmare come to a close. “You can count it.”
“No need. I trust you.” He closes the duffel and stands, draws the strap over his shoulder. “Where did you get the money?”
“Not your business,” I reply, throwing his own words back at him.
“Fair enough.” He stares at me. For the first time, I see a flicker of emotion in his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was regret. Instead of leaving, he walks up to me, stopping when he’s close enough to reveal the gold flecks in his brown irises. “Well, I guess this is it then.”
“Yes.”
“Unless you want to take this back to your bedroom for a celebration.”
The rusty growl in his offer hits me right between the legs. I’m instantly wet and ready. My mouth is so dry, I can barely swallow. I clear my throat. “No. We’re done.”
“Shame.” He studies my face like he’s memorizing every feature. “I was getting used to having you around.” Using his pinky, he sweeps the hair away from my forehead, trails his fingers along my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. A heavy sigh gusts from my lips. “All right then. See ya around, Jagger Jones.”
Fourteen
Jagger
Paying my debt to Cash should’ve been the end of my relationship with Loretta, but we decide to keep going. We agree to meet for the final exchange on the first Thursday in June at an outdoor café in Carmel.
To make sure I’m not followed, I hide my car in a parking garage and walk the two blocks to the restaurant. We have salads and talk about the new shopping mall going up down the street, the traffic congestion on the interstate.
“There’s no point in getting greedy,” Loretta says when we’re finished eating. She hauls the strap of her cash-filled tote over her shoulder. Her smile is blinding. “We had a good run, Jagger Jones. It’s been good doing business with you.”
“You, too.” We share a hug before heading in separate directions.
I walk to my car with the tote bag of jewels tucked beneath my arm. Overhead, white fluffy clouds float in a soft blue sky. Baskets of sweet-smelling flowers hang from the black cast-iron streetlamps. The houses lining the street have pristine lawns, manicured hedges, and expensive cars in their driveways.
The only thing more perfect than my surroundings is the heady intoxication of success. We did it. I beat Cash, repaid Callie’s debt, and have enough merchandise in my bag to get Mercer’s back on its feet.
Inside the parking garage, I pause on the third level in front of the spot where I thought my Honda should be sitting. An elegant Mercedes sedan is there instead. I chuckle to myself at the memory lapse and search for a familiar landmark. The fire extinguisher. The elevator. Everything seems right, yet my car isn’t anywhere to be seen. A sense of unease prickles along the back of my neck.
“Lose something?” The voice behind me is familiar, unsettling, and deep.
This cannot be happening. I turn in a slow circle.
“So how do you like my new car?” Cash sits in the driver’s seat of a red, vintage convertible roadster with shiny chrome and sparkling wire wheels. The wrist of his right arm rests on the top of the steering wheel. His opposite elbow lounges on the windowsill. His neck tattoo is on full display above the collar of his black T-shirt. He jerks his head toward the passenger side. “Hop in. Let’s go for a drive.”
A quick glance to my left and right confirms that we’re alone on this level. “I’m not going anywhere with you ever again.”
His familiar chuckle is both frightening and thrilling. A boyish grin reveals his dimples. “Never say never, sweet thing.” When I don’t budge, he arches an eyebrow. “Wanna show me what you got in that bag?”
I clutch the bag tighter against my midriff. He couldn’t possibly know, could he? “Why are you here?”
“Always so many questions.” He shakes his head. “‘Why are you here? Where are we going? What are you doing?’” The smile slips from his face. “I know what you’ve been up to, Jagger Jones.” He leans across the car, opens the passenger door, and pats the leather seat. “Get in the car, hot stuff. I don’t want to shout our business for everyone to hear.”
Once again, I’m at a crossroads. The smart thing to do would be run or scream. I do neither. Instead, I slide into the bucket seat. Deep down, I’m thrilled to see him again. I have no idea where he’s taking me, but it’s guaranteed to be one hell of a ride. Seeing him now, here, rekindles my attraction. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve never stopped thinking about him.
“Fine. But I only have an hour.” My attention is drawn to his tattooed fingers as he works the manual gearshift. There’s something strong and sexy about a man behind the wheel of a growling sportscar. His large body overpowers the cockpit of the small roadster. We drive through the quiet streets. The wind whips my hair. I gather it into a ponytail and draw it to one side.
“Have you ever heard an engine purr like that before?” he asks as he merges onto the interstate. With a pump of the clutch and a shift of gears, the car rockets forward. We weave in and out of traffic along I-465. When the skyscrapers of downtown come into view, he takes the Ohio Street exit and heads toward Monument Circle.
“This is insane,” I mutter.
“I know, right?” He shakes his head, a smirk on his face. “This is a 1974 Jaguar E-Type. All original. Only twenty-seven thousand miles on the odometer. They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“I meant your behavior.”
“Oh, yeah.” His dimples are on full display. I can’t help glancing at his handsome profile. I’ve never seen him so relaxed or so gleeful. He catches my gaze. “You gotta forgive me. Cars are my passion. I get excited, you know?”
“You didn’t hijack my afternoon to drive me around Indianapolis. What is it you want?” My patience is growing thin. The longer I’m around him, the more I like him. I don’t want to like him. I want to hate him.
“When I saw this car, I thought damn, Jagger would look great in that. Red’s a good color for you.” At the stoplight, he rests an elbow on the center console and leans toward me.
For a fraction of a second, I have a premonition of what life as his girlfriend might be like. Then I shove it away, because I know it’s never going to happen. I won’t let it. “I don’t have time for this, Cash. Get to the point.”
He huffs an exasperated sigh. “Fine.” The light changes, and we’re on the move again. “Here’s the deal. I know what you got going on with your homegirl Loretta, and I want in on it.”
My heart sinks. The bliss of the day floats away on the warm breeze. “How? How could you possibly know?”
“I got friends all over, Jagger.” At the next intersection, the stoplight turns red. We stop again. He drops a hand on my knee and squeezes, sending ripples of delight up my leg. “So here’s how this is going to go down. You’re going to stop taking your merchandise to that slimy St. Louis sleazeball and bring it straight to me.”
I stare out the windshield at the crazy throng of traffic, the pedestrians, and the Soldiers and Sailors monument ahead of us. How did I get here again? I clear my throat. “We’re done. I’m done.”
“No, no, darlin’.” His laughter both warms and terrifies me. “You ain’t done ‘til I say you’re done, and we’re just getting started.” He brushes the hair away from my face with a gentle sweep. Those warm brown eyes lock on my lips. “You and me—we’re partners now. Fifty-fifty split. I’m gonna make you rich, angel.”
“I want to be done,” I whisper. “This kind of life isn’t for me. I don’t want this.” The words are a lie. Need swells inside me, threatening to crack my ribs. I want what he has. I want his wealth, this car, his power. Temptation curls around my soul and tugs. With Cash at my side, th
e possibilities for my future are limitless.
“Sure, you do.” He sees through my dishonesty. As always, he knows what I want before I do.
“What if I don’t? What if I want to be a normal girl with a normal job?” Excitement hums through my blood.
He’s quiet as he makes a left turn then casts a sideways glance at me. “We both know you’re better than that.”
“Why do you keep doing this?” Another red light brings our progress to a halt. I run a hand over the seat, feeling the heat of the sun in the leather, wondering what it would be like to own something this beautiful.
“I’m a bad guy, darlin’, and bad guys do bad things.” At the intersection of Meridian and Ohio, he sets the parking brake and hops over the car door, landing lightly on the street.
“Cash!” I stare at him, mouth agape.
Over his shoulder, he says, “Keep the car. You look good in it.” His shit-eating grin is back. He winks. “Consider it a token of my good faith in our new business venture, partner. I’ll be in touch.” With those final words, he weaves between the cars and melts into the people on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, leaving me alone and driverless.
I'm too stunned for the first few seconds to comprehend what just happened. The traffic light switches from red to green. Behind me the long line of traffic grows impatient. Horns honk. Someone yells. I quickly unfasten my seatbelt and slide behind the steering wheel. I circle the block, thinking he has to be near, but he’s nowhere to be found.
In the space of thirty minutes, he’s managed to worm his way back into my life. My hands tremble as I clutch the steering wheel. We’re going to be partners. He values me. Me. Little Jagger Jones from nowhere. I blow out a breath to sweep away the anxiety. I have no idea what to do next, so I drive toward home.
The car is stunning. It’s been years since I’ve driven a manual transmission. For the first few blocks, the car hops when I shift gears. After a few minutes, I get the hang of the clutch. On the interstate, I shove the accelerator to the floor and revel in the power of the engine. Under different circumstances I would be thrilled to receive a gift like this, but I know there are strings attached. Long, indestructible, life-altering strings. Once Cash is back in my life, I’ll never be able to get rid of him. I tried so hard to escape his grasp, but I enjoyed every minute of the struggle.
When I pull into the driveway at home, there’s an unfamiliar car parked on the street in front of the house. I don’t pay too much attention. Maybe someone is visiting Mrs. Johnson across the street. I’m more concerned with how I’m gonna explain the classic convertible to Emeline. She won’t be happy to know Cash is back in our lives. I sit in the car for a few minutes before going inside to prepare my story. I promised never to lie to her again, and I won’t.
After a deep, cleansing breath, I head inside and drop the car keys in the bowl by the door. When I turn around, I see Em is sitting on the couch in the living room, her back stiff, complexion pale.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hello,” she replies. The strangeness in her tone grabs my attention.
“You won’t believe what happened to–” I don’t get a chance to finish the sentence. A man steps into my line of sight, previously hidden by the wall between the foyer and living room. His brown hair and pleasant features are familiar.
“Ms. Jones, hello. It’s nice to see you again.” He extends his hand to shake. I stare at it. After a beat, he drops it to his side, flexing his fingers. “You’re surprised. We met in Vegas. Remember?”
“Wayne?” He’s the guy from the hotel club. No wonder Em is freaked out. What kind of creepy stalker tracks a woman across an entire country after a ten-minute conversation? I back toward the door, mind racing, trying to remember if my phone is in my purse or still in the car. “This is unexpected.”
“It’s Warren, actually. Special Agent Will Warren.” He takes a step toward me and flips open his wallet to reveal a shield and picture ID. Federal Bureau of Investigations. FBI. A second man comes out of the hall bathroom. Both are wearing dark trousers, a button-down shirt, and tie, sensible black shoes. Warren gestures toward his companion. “This is my partner, Agent Dodd.”
“I—I don’t understand.” I glance at Em. She’s still as a statue, hands clasped in her lap, knuckles white.
Warren has the good grace to look embarrassed. “I know this must be a shock to you. Why don’t you sit down?”
“No. I’m fine.” An unpleasant burning sensation races through my veins. “What’s this about?”
Agent Dodd walks to the window, sweeps the curtains aside with two fingers, and lets out a low whistle. “That’s some car you’ve got there, Ms. Jones. What is that? An Aston Martin? Seventies?”
“It’s a 1974 Jaguar E-Type,” I reply.
“A car like that has to cost a pretty penny. I’m surprised you can afford such an expensive car, considering the financial problems your business has been facing.” Agent Dodd is older than Warren, maybe mid-forties. Threads of gray highlight his sideburns. His forehead furrows in confusion as he turns to his partner. “Doesn’t Cash Delacorte have a car like that?”
“You know, I think he does,” Warren replies. “You don’t happen to know him, do you, Ms. Jones?”
I choose not to answer. A wave of calm sweeps over me. I snap out of my funk and move toward the kitchen. “I’m so sorry. Where are my manners? Would anyone like some coffee or a glass of water?”
Warren steps into my path. “We’re fine. Please sit down, Ms. Jones.” His next words turn my world upside down. “We’d like to ask you some questions about your part in the extortion and murder of Hubert Spillman.”
Are you ready for the conclusion of Jagger and Cash’s story?
ABSOLUTE TRUST releases 7/07/20
READY FOR ABSOLUTE TRUST?
I’m just a simple girl from a poor background, who loves with all her heart and has the best of intentions. Falling in love with Cash Delacorte was never a life goal. The former gang leader turned ruthless billionaire holds all of my power. He owns me—body, soul, and bank account.
The problem? I like it. I crave his touch in the dark of night. I long to hear his whispered dirty words in my ear when we make love. Most of all, I trust him to do what’s right for me. Because that’s what we do when we’re in love, right? We trust the wrong people. We make bad decisions. And we sacrifice our souls to make them happy.
Now, with the FBI breathing down our necks and a million dollars in stolen jewels on the line, the power rests in my hands. One word from me can bring Cash’s empire crashing down around him. Does he trust me enough to save us both or will his need for power ruin the only love I’ve ever known?
USA Today bestselling author Jeana E. Mann brings the heat in this dark and suspenseful romance.
**This is BOOK TWO of a duet and is intended to be read after ABSOLUTE POWER.**
These books are written in the worlds of THE EXILED PRINCE TRILOGY, THE REBEL QUEEN DUET, and THE RUTHLESS KNIGHT. You do not need to read the other books to enjoy the ABSOLUTE POWER DUET.
99 CENT PREORDER SPECIAL
Absolute Trust
Release day 7/7/20
Also by Jeana E. Mann
The Rich Royal and Ruthless Collection
(In reading order)
THE EXILED PRINCE TRILOGY
The Exiled Prince
The Dirty Princess
The War King
THE REBEL QUEEN DUET
The Royal Arrangement
The Rebel Queen
STANDALONE
The Ruthless Knight
THE ABSOLUTE POWER DUET
Absolute Power
Absolute Trust
PRETTY BROKEN SERIES
(In reading order)
Pretty Broken Girl
Pretty Filthy Lies
Pretty Dirty Secrets
Pretty Wild Thing
Pretty Broken Promises
Pretty Broken Dreams
Pretty Broken Baby
Pretty Broken Hearts
Pretty Broken Bastard
FELONY ROMANCE SERIES
Intoxicated
Unexpected
Vindicated
Impulsive
Drift
Committed
STANDALONES
Lies We Tell
Dirty Work
SHORT STORIES
Everything
Linger
About the Author
Jeana is a USA Today and Publishers Weekly bestselling author from Indiana. She gave up a career in the corporate world to write about sexy billionaires and alpha bad boys. With over twenty books, three series, and many awards beneath her belt, she’s never regretted her choice to live out her dream. She’s a free spirit, a wanderer at heart, and loves animals with a passion. When she’s not tripping over random objects, you’ll find her walking in the sunshine with her rambunctious dogs and dreaming about true love. Subscribe to Jeana’s newsletter and get the inside scoop on new and upcoming releases, giveaways, and much more! SUBSCRIBE
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Copyright © 2020 by Jeana E. Mann
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Absolute Power (Absolute Power Duet Book 1) Page 11
