by Amber Malloy
“Do you think a killer is gonna give you a timeout, girl, cover your face!” Maxie yelled from the other side of the ropes. A couple of Maxie’s well-toned friends tried to coach Lane to protect her assets.
“I fail to see what boxing has to do with—” Bam! She took a hit to the chin. Stars would have been nice, but everything went dark before she could see those shiny lights. “Oh, God!”
The rank smell of chemicals hit her nose the same time Maxie’s perfect heart-shaped face came into her line of vision. She almost jumped out of her skin.
“She’s okay!” Maxie hollered and took the vial of smelling salts from under her nose. “You didn’t block,” Maxie scolded before reaching down to help her up. “We can’t go any further with your lesson until you learn defense.”
“A perpetrator wouldn’t give me the opportunity to put up my dukes.” Lane tried to shake the ringing out of her head, positive she had a concussion and would need immediate medical attention.
Maxie pulled her from the mat. “Get the hang of blocking, okay?”
At first, she thought the blonde came straight from heaven. After some time, she was sure Maxie couldn’t have been anything other than a cheerleader for evil.
“Let’s go,” Maxie hollered.
The bell rang for round two. She circled her opponent as the woman continued to throw jabs in her directions.
“You with Nate’s brother, aye?” Her challenger was a medium-sized Latino woman she’d heard someone call Lulu. Muscled and fast, Lane could see by her sneer she wanted to lay her out.
“Friends,” she admitted. Lane didn’t actually know how to categorize their burgeoning romance. Are we truly friends with the potential for more, or are we friends who have sex only in times of crisis?
While she pondered the intricate details of her strange relationship with Jackson Thornbird, she blocked another punch. The sneaky witch tried to get her again, but this time she caught the right hook before it made contact with her face.
“He’s very sexy.” The boxer went around her again.
Lane kept alert and on her toes, unwilling to get hit again. Fool her once. “Yes,” she agreed.
“He’s the one that got our Maxie arrested.”
“Arrested,” she repeated, determined not to let the little punching monster distract her.
“Yes, he busted her for stealing cars.”
“Check out her body language. Study her movements,” Maxie instructed from the sidelines.
She tiptoed around her sparring partner, trying to stay out of arm’s reach. If Maxie wanted to take time out of her day to teach her self-defense, then she could at least try to defend herself. As much as she wanted to curl up in a ball, she didn’t want to cop out.
“Did she steal the cars?” Lane asked before she dodged a good upper cut.
“Of course she did, but he didn’t have to arrest her.”
The woman’s weight shifted to the right, which told her where to block. Lane pinpointed the shift. A fuzzy picture of what to do tweaked into focus, and she became aware there was no contact from her opponent’s jab. Pleased with herself, she took her small victory and struck out with her left. Her opponent dropped to the mat.
“Nice one,” Maxie cheered from the sidelines.
Chapter Thirteen
Miami always promised sunshine but not on this visit. Jax stared out the window overlooking South Beach and watched the storm pick up. He didn’t want to make the bad weather an omen, but he did take the rough tides as a sign.
“Raff boxed up your files. I’m having them sent to the cabin in Colorado,” Nate said.
Jax declined the drink his brother tried to pass him.
“You’re not on duty, bro, take a break.”
Nate was right. Jax needed a bit of relief. He accepted the whiskey straight and drank it all in one hit. It burned on the way down, but it gave him a much-needed kick into reality.
“I got Raff and Ralph situated in the firehouse. You’ll get a Skype call from them in about—” Nate checked his watch. “—ten minutes. Your partner’s brother, he’s a weird one, no?
“He’s a bit of an agoraphobic, among other things,” he said, happy to have Nate for a sibling and not the one his partner had gotten stuck with.
Nate had always been a no questions asked kind of sibling. Growing up, he’d never left him out to dry. More often than not, he assisted with the cover up.
There was no better lawyer to work on his behalf than Nathaniel Thornbird. He needed his big brother in his corner.
“Will you be okay?” Nate put on the jacket to his suit. “I’ve got a meeting with the executives at Quad Corp, but I’ll be back before this evening.”
“Maxie’s dad is finally entrusting you with family business?” Jax joked.
“No, he’s parading around the doofus marrying his daughter.”
“Piece of cake,” he tried to cheer him up.
“Yep, a piece of cake,” his brother repeated with a sincere smile. “It’s certainly nothing I can’t handle.”
Nate had his work cut out for him. Even in his current predicament, Jax would be hard pressed to switch places with his brother. Quite frankly, it was a toss-up between Nate’s future billionaire father-in-law, who was also an egomaniac, or half the Chicago PD, who happened to be hot on his trail.
Maxie’s father and all his dirt were a lifetime of grief. His problems wouldn’t last long. Nate had chosen a much harder path.
“Hey.” Jax stopped his brother before he reached the door. “Do you think you can get me into that big charity event tonight?”
His brother quirked his brow. “Without someone tracing it back to the family? Probably not, but there’s someone who can.”
Jax’s heart sank.
He didn’t need to owe Maxie. She never bartered with money, and the crap she wanted was damn near a testament to mental gymnastics to obtain. He would have preferred to dig into his trust fund and break her off a brick rather than owe her another favor.
“Can you ask her just this once—”
Nate held up his hand. “There’s not a whole lot I wouldn’t do for you, baby bro. But depriving Maxie of one of her favors?” He shook his head and wiggled his finger at him. “It’s just not in the cards. Besides, I don’t want to get in the way of your friendship with my future bride now that you are both certifiable criminals and all.”
“Nice,” Jax grumbled.
“I had to say it at least once.” Nate laughed. “Look, whatever it is that you’re up to, baby brother, be safe.” He gave him a half salute good-bye and walked out the door.
***
Blood. Lane touched her chin. She could have sworn a trickle of blood slipped down her cheek, but it was nothing more than sweat. Since she didn’t care for either one of those particular body fluids, it was no wonder she’d confused the two.
Their torture session had moved down to the gym floor with the promise that it would be over soon. She had wanted to bolt while Maxie went back and forth with someone on the phone. If she’d had the slightest clue where to go in the huge maze of a building, she would have made a break for it.
“You’re dealing with corrupt politicians, ” Maxie said, once she hung up and slipped the cell back into her top. “Lawmakers of Chicago. So getting hit in the face is the least of your problems.”
She towered over her by at least four inches. Focused on the heated throb of pain from her chin, Lane barely caught a word Maxie said while she laid out the rules of girl Fight Club.
Beat up and poorly dressed, Lane had envisioned the day so differently when she woke up this morning.
“You have to keep calm regardless of the pain, and remember there is no room for lady-like behavior.”
She nodded in hopes she wouldn’t be hit again.
“Go for the eyes.” Maxie stopped inches away from her cornea. “Groin.” She pulled her close, pretending to knee Lane in her fake nuts. “And throat.”
Quickly, Lane jumped back b
efore her trachea could be dislodged. “Eyes, groin, throat. Got it,” she huffed. “We’re done, right?”
“Make sure to keep your assailant close.” Maxie ignored her pleas. “It makes it harder to hit you. Now, break my hold.”
Startled when Maxie turned her around and jumped on her back, she flipped the stick-thin blonde straight over her shoulder.
“Shit,” Maxie muttered.
“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry.” When threatened, her mind shifted to autopilot. She hadn’t meant to hurt Maxie, but the unexpected always made her react in a fight-or-flight type of manner.
“Whoa, Lane, good job.” Maxie coughed and tried to sit up.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. Lane tried to help her off the floor. “I have no idea what just happened—”
“Fight or flight, huh?” Maxie pushed herself onto her knees to catch her breath.
“Yeah, Jax’s partner called me grenade.”
“Those are the best.”
Lane grabbed her arm to shoulder her weight and pull her up.
“Men consider them keepers.”
“Why would a grenade ever be a good thing?” she asked with a hearty laugh while she led Maxie toward the door.
“Grenades don’t go off unless the pin gets pulled.”
Definitely a better way to look at the horrible title Raff had bestowed on her.
“Let’s call this session a wrap. Jax has plans for you tonight at the Eco Ball, and pulling strings to get you guys into it would have gotten me one hell of a favor. Unfortunately, it’s going to take the entire makeup department at Bergdorf’s to fix the bruises on your face.” Maxie sighed. “I guess I can call us even.”
“So what would they consider you?” She routed back around to their previous conversation. “A grenade?”
Maxie’s deep laugh ended with a cough. “Nate could answer that better, but since we’re committing to full disclosure, I must admit I’m more of a land mine. Stepping on me will kill you.”
Without knowing a lot about her, Lane decided the description fit better than any she could have come up with on her own.
Chapter Fourteen
Two well-placed leaves hugged her breasts. The tiny skirt made of foliage tried to hide the fullness of her ass.
At any minute, Lane anticipated the cops would arrest her for indecent exposure. She made her way around the party with a tray full of hors d’oeuvres, a smile, and not much else.
The gala was being held at a corporate mansion. Maxie explained the house would often be rented out but for an astronomical fee. The posh Spanish Villa had been transformed into the Garden of Eden for the Environmental Ball, one of the biggest charity galas of the season.
Large palms mixed with exotic flowers and beautiful birds transformed the house into an island of paradise. Nevertheless, she hadn’t been invited to the ball as a guest. No, too easy. Instead, Maxie handed her fabric that barely resembled an outfit and gave her explicit instructions about her job as a server.
With all her aches and pains, she had taken the skimpy costume and made Maxie promise she wouldn’t be sold into some kinky sex slave ring if she agreed to do this. Who knows what these wealthy people are into?
“I’ll be your Adam if you’ll be my Eve,” a creepy old man told her when she tried to pass.
She plastered a smile of serenity on her face and shoved a roll or two in her mouth. Not enough people picked food from her tray, and she needed the excuse to go back to restock her tray.
“Do you need a rib?” another codger asked.
Lane continued to smile and kept her eyes on the clock above the fireplace. In five minutes, she would need to unlock the library window to let Jax in the mansion. She eased her way toward the kitchen.
Someone’s hand clamped down on her backside and squeezed tight. Lane stopped in her tracks. The force almost toppled her over.
“You remind me of that redhead filly who comes on the idiot box.” Fetid breath of denture cream and stale cigarettes wafted up her nostrils.
She tried to remember what Maxie had told her while the ancient jerk continued to pinch her ass. Be calm and don’t overreact. Think of a way out of the problem. She held her breath.
“Oh I’m not half as beautiful as she is,” Lane cooed, positive he’d compared her to that busty actress, Christina Hendricks, since everyone else did.
“No, darling, you’re more of a looker. Have you ever considered dying your hair red?” The old man released his tight grip. He twisted a ringlet that had fallen out of her ponytail around his finger and tugged.
“Sushi roll?” She turned around and shoved the tray in his face. The close contact from his breath made her eyes water.
“How about we blow this joint so I can see what you’re hiding under all those leaves?”
Lane slapped the man’s hand away before he could make a grab for the two big palms covering her breasts.
She plastered on a smile. “Don’t be naughty. We have to save all the good stuff for later.” She flicked the tip of his nose with her index finger. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to refill my tray.” She wiggled out of his reach and gave him a good view of her booty on her way to the kitchen.
“I’ll be coming for you later, gal,” he called.
She threw the tray on the countertop.
“It will only take a sec to load,” the harried caterer huffed at her when she didn’t stop her mad dash. She went to the back of the kitchen, toward the servant’s staircase, without pause.
“Bathroom,” she threw over her shoulder. Worried she would bash her brains on the tiled floor, she ran on her tippy toes. If she fell because of the ridiculous platform heels, Jax would never get out of this fix.
The first part of her job was to open the bathroom window on the second floor and then the library window near the foyer. Just to be safe, two exits needed to be available. One room he would enter by and the other room he would leave through.
She counted four doors down the corridor before twisting the knob to the bathroom. No lights he had told her. Lane felt her way across the room and unlatched the double window. Nearly wiping out on the slippery ceramic, she righted herself, unwilling to eat bathroom tile grout.
Still on the balls of her feet, she left the bathroom and teetered down the hall. Jax would need to enter the library from the second floor. The door was slightly ajar when she stepped into the room. Priceless lamps glowed with muted light leading the way.
Considered a restricted area, the two-story opulent library appeared lush with thick fabrics and was filled to the ceiling with books. The owners didn’t have enough cash to pay for security. The environmentalists had to guarantee nothing untoward would happen to their fancy stuff.
Behind schedule, she cranked open the foldout window before she hurried to the door to crack it open.
Several footsteps clumped past the library door. She waited for the right moment. According to Jax’s research, a man with silver hair would pass by in a matter of seconds. She counted in her head before she flung herself out the door, twisting her ankle along the way.
Catch me, she prayed, catch me now. Lane’s free fall would end in one of two ways. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be with her face down on the floor. She braced herself for the impact, but the Illinois politician caught her in the nick of time.
“You all right, pretty lady?” He had perfect white teeth against smooth chocolate skin. A lot of men didn’t want curves. Most claimed they did, but her body, untouched for close to three years, became irrefutable proof men wanted a stick figure to hold onto at night.
She gambled on a plan that might not work. The politician appeared strong enough to shoulder the weight of her curvaceous body, but only time and gravity would tell.
The Governor of Illinois was thankfully in the baby boomer age bracket of men who appreciated a good rack and round ass.
“Oh, I think I twisted my ankle,” Lane whined. She hopped toward the door she’d just fallen from.
The politici
an nodded at his men and must have come to the conclusion she wasn’t a threat since they hadn’t shot her, yet. “Go fetch the car, and I’ll be back in a sec, fellas,” he instructed his team and waved them ahead.
His security followed his orders, leaving them alone in the foyer, that mesmerizing smile never disappearing from his face.
“How’s your leg?” He helped her to the library.
“This is strange, but it feel’s like new.” Lane shifted her weight to shove the politician through the open library door before she slammed it shut behind him.
The governor looked back and forth in confusion, but he seemed to shake it off awfully fast. “Thornbird.” The man grinned. “I heard they had an all-points bulletin in Chicago for you, or do those still exist?”
The ominous cloak and dagger plan to corner the governor would’ve made Jax chuckle if the situation had not been so dire. He stood across the room, near the window he had climbed through. Thanks to Raff’s superb computer skills, they’d hacked into the governor’s calendar, which had everything timed down to the minute. Otherwise, they would have never been able to pull this circus sideshow off. Jax figured he was trying to woo those liberal donors to contribute to his next campaign.
“Person of interest,” he told him.
Governor Jones shook his head. “You’ve been upgraded to suspect, son.”
“Shit,” he hissed. “When?”
“About an hour ago, but honestly, it’s the least of your problems. Mortiz and Franco are AWOL. No one said anything about a leave of absence or a vacation. They just went poof.”
Jax’s heart sank to his knees. Mortiz and Franco were the dirtiest of the dirty. The captain’s pets would do anything, legal or not, to support their commander. Once again, the dynamics of the game had changed.
As a range of thoughts bombarded him, the governor patiently waited. “Tell me, what can I do for you, Thornbird?”
“Evidence. It’s what everyone is after, and it’s got to be big. I just have to be pointed in the right direction.”
