“Didn’t you get your dick burned twice from messing with the girls in that place? No, thank you. I pass on that penicillin resistant pussy. And what does Patrick want? I don’t have time to shoot the shit with him. I’m busy. You handle it.”
“He’s not here for you or me.”
“So what are you telling me for then? Jade put the liquor order in last week. The check cleared. What could he possibly want?”
I start reading emails.
“I think he may be double checking the order with her specifically.”
I raise my head.
“Double checking a monthly order in person?”
“Eh, I think the little liquor pusher may have a hard on for our girl.”
The fuck.
All I can see in my head are wretched visions of Jade on her knees in front of creepy ass Patrick in the middle of my dance floor, because that is something else nerve wracking about this woman … most men are very attracted to her, and she does very little to discourage it.
She has a taut, flat stomach, curvy hips, teardrop breasts, and a pair of sexy ass lips. Not to mention that she often uses her sexuality to her advantage. She is a big ass flirt by nature and depending on her mood, she will back up all that flirting with actual fucking. The kind that most men dream about. Hot, no strings attached, no drama, no staying the night, fucking with a woman small enough to flip into almost any position imaginable.
I’m the first to admit that Rome, Cutter and I have played a part in promoting some of that behavior. Having her flirt with a dickhead or two to get some information or to act as a distraction. Men are so predictable and fall for that shit every time, but we have never asked her to fuck anyone; and now I’m even starting to second guess our strategy of suggesting she do anything flirty at all. It’s backfiring on my ass. Big time.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my brother.
The club is only filled with a few employees, because it’s still early. Jade is seated at the bar with a drink in her hand and playing with a cocktail napkin. Patrick is leaning against the bar counter, towering over her, while apparently talking shit in her ear. Even though she’s only wearing a pair of skintight jeans and a basic black tank top, she exudes effortless sex appeal.
But Patrick is not a mark.
We don’t need any information extracted from him. We don’t need him for shit, but to deliver our liquor order on time. So it’s plain as day that this is not a business call. This is for pleasure. Which is becoming particularly obvious, after I watch Jade giggle like a schoolgirl at something lame he has no doubt just said in her ear. Real laughter. The kind where she shuts her eyes and grabs his arm to keep herself from falling over in rip fucking roaring laughter.
She actually likes this underachiever, and the realization of that sends an irrational signal to my brain that makes all the hairs on the back of my neck rise up. I want to take the ballpoint pen that’s in my hand and drive it into the gut of my liquor distributor. I actually want to hurt him, badly.
Most eyes are on me as I make my way down the spiral staircase and approach the two of them. One of my part-timers, Joan, is behind the bar checking inventory and washing wine glasses. I sit down at the bar in front of her and on a stool, which is on the other side of Jade. The little vixen doesn’t even attempt to turn her head to acknowledge me. That irks me even further.
“Pour me a scotch, Joan.”
“Sure thing, King.”
None of the club’s employees call me by my first name. That’s a privilege pretty much reserved for very close friends and family. Cutter hates it though, because they can only call one of us King to avoid confusion. Probably why he’s always announcing himself when he walks into the room as “the king.”
“Hey, King.” Patrick gives me an unusually friendly greeting. It’s instinctual between men. He already knows that I don’t like what I’m seeing and is overcompensating. Slimy little fucker.
“What’s up, Pat?” I give him a stiff head nod. “Is there a mix up with the order or something?”
“Naw, man.” He chuckles uncomfortably. “I was in the area, so I thought I’d drop by to make sure Jade was umm … happy with the delivery.”
“Is that right.” I stare so far down his throat I can see the asshole’s tonsils. “Well it’s nice to see that the staff at Bella Vargo Distributors takes customer service seriously. I’ll have to give Paulie a call and talk you up.”
Patrick takes a moment to think about what he is going to say next. It’s actually kind of amusing. He knows me. He knows my reputation. And he’s no idiot. He doesn’t want to offend me, but he doesn’t want Jade to think that he’s a punk either. Which is too bad for him, because this thing is not going to end well for him.
“We do take it seriously, especially when we do business with customers we value.”
He winks at Jade and when she smiles in return, I immediately feel my pulse quickening and adrenaline pumping through my veins. What the fuck? I feel like I’m in high school again. I want to drag him into the boy’s locker room, and smash his head into one of the lockers.
It’s obvious to me now. My attraction to Jade, and my feelings for her, have morphed into something bigger. Something possessive. Something inexplicably complicated. I recall how Roman warned me that I needed to handle her with kid gloves, when the warning actually should have been to make sure that I protected myself. She may possibly have the power to bring me to my knees, and the scariest part of it is that she has zero clue that she wields it.
I understand Roman’s hesitance about my intentions though. Relationships are my kryptonite. I always have good intentions, but I don’t do relationships well, and I don’t do them for long. Not to mention that I seem to always hurt someone along the way, but if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I don’t want to hurt Jade.
“And we appreciate your business,” motherfucker, “but I’m going to have to ask you to leave, so we can get ready to open. Jade’s hasn’t been to work in days, so she has some catching up to do. You know how it is in the club.” I smirk after giving him his walking papers in the most polite way that I possibly can. My balls are going to start to shrivel into the size of marbles if I’m any nicer.
“I can come back later as a paying customer. Jade promised me a dance.”
I know he didn’t intend his words to come out the way that they did, and maybe I’m overreacting, but I think he just inadvertently said that he wanted to come back and pay Jade for some pussy.
“The fuck did you just say?” Cutter butts into the conversation challenging Patrick.
Oh good, I’m not nuts, Cutter heard it too.
“Pay to get inside of the club and then dance with Jade,” Patrick responds as if he’s been insulted. “Obviously.”
“Not tonight, homeboy,” Cutter says.
“She’s busy,” I say at the same time.
Patrick glares at the two of us, then leans over to Jade and whispers something in her ear.
“Okay,” she grins. “I will.”
My eyes angrily snap back to the little fucker’s face, as I wonder to myself what the hell did he just get her to agree to? He gives her a slight peck on the cheek, and gives Cutter and I a head nod good-bye, and then he leaves. He’s ballsy. I’ll give him that much. Too bad I make a living out of cutting the balls off of motherfuckers.
“Are you drunk or just fucking crazy?” I ask as I move in dangerously close to her. Her warm breaths blowing against my neck. I can almost feel her heart trying to beat itself out of her chest.
“Hardly,” she responds while gradually backing away from me.
I’m starting to enjoy that I make her nervous. The shit turns me on.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I need you to stop getting drunk at my club. You probably gave Marco a pair of blue balls the other night when you were in here flirting with him. Then when I lugged your drunk ass home, you threw up all over yourself, and I had the distin
ct displeasure of cleaning it up. Aren’t you even a little bit embarrassed?”
“Not even a little bit.”
I sigh to myself. She always has to be a hard ass. I study Jade quietly for a moment. Her breathing. Her body language. I don’t like what I’m seeing. She hasn’t been herself lately. She’s been running late or ditching work completely. She’s been lying, and the other day she looked tired. Like she’s sitting up all night worried about something.
“Is this agreement too much for you?”
“What?” She looks over at Cutter. Hoping that he’s not eavesdropping but he is.
“Is our arrangement too much for you to handle? You’re not acting like yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s been a week, and you haven’t really been here.”
“I told you. I had to finish up some things for Roman, but I’m here now Mr. King, ready and reporting for duty as requested.”
I stare at her suspiciously not buying anything she’s selling.
“I’m handing over the liquor orders to Marco starting next month,” I tell her.
“For what,” she protests. “I’ve been handling liquor for Lotus ever since we opened.”
“Marco knows the bar better than anyone. He’s the bar manager. It should be his job. That’s what we pay him for.”
“So what do I even need to come here for if you’re going to take away every responsibility I have?”
“Stop being dramatic. You’re the temporary manager of this club and you manage us. Those are your jobs. Not menial tasks like ordering inventory.”
“Ordering liquor is a managerial task that occurs once a month. It’s only a phone call.”
“Exactly,” Cutter chimes in from across the room. “Why was Patrick even here if it only requires a phone call?”
Jade whips her head between Cutter and me in frustration and throw her hands up. “Because obviously I’m going to fuck him! Do you two imbeciles need me to spell it out for you?”
She really deserves to get her ass paddled for that comment. For her attitude. For her lying. In fact, my mouth starts to water at the very thought.
Jade in restraints.
Ass in the air.
Mine.
“You’re not going to fuck the liquor guy. End of story. We have too good of an arrangement with the company for you to ruin it with your raging hormones,” I say.
“Are you serious right now? You fuck a different woman every couple of days, and I can’t get laid by a guy that we know, like, and trust.”
“Who said I liked him? And I sure as shit never said I trusted him.”
“I trust him!”
“Ha!”
“What does that mean? Are you insinuating that I don’t have good judgment? Because that’s awfully funny coming from you. The last woman who you and your brother over there fucked senseless hasn’t stopped crank calling the club every night. She’s got to be the dumbest woman on the planet, if she doesn’t think that I don’t know that it’s her giggling in the background. That silly bitch has one ménage and loses her mind.”
“That wasn’t the last one,” I say.
“What are you talking about?”
“That wasn’t the last woman we fucked senseless.”
I can hear Cutter chuckling softly across the room.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a dick, Camden. You both are.”
I’m pleased with the fact that I’ve left her with a very interesting visual to stew over for the rest of the night. I actually haven’t fucked anyone senseless since I was inside of her, but there’s no need for her to know that ridiculous truth. She probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. My brother and I notoriously have a voracious appetite when it comes to sex.
“And you’re off liquor detail.” I patronizingly tap the end of her nose with my finger. “End of story. Now go make sure our guest deejay has everything he needs before you start working the door. I need to finish something up in the back.”
“Screw you.”
Jade sticks her middle finger up at me, smiling as she walks off, and I laugh harder than I have in a long time. I haven’t met a woman who has made me so angry, so interested, and so amused in a long time. Her smile makes me smile. Her laughter makes me laugh. She makes me feel something, and that’s rare for an emotionally unavailable person like me, but I continue to run back Rome’s words of warning.
Is gambling with years of friendship worth the risk?
Camden
I wasn’t that impressed when I first met Jade Barlow. Sure she had a pretty face, and interesting almond shaped eyes, but she was also really short. I mean super tiny. And I usually liked my women long and lean, not that I was trying to make her my woman. She had a big mouth too. Large. Kind of foul. And some of the shit that came out of it could cut you like a razor. I preferred a woman’s mouth refined and soft and wrapped around my dick.
Not to mention that the day we met, her shirt was torn, her eye was turning a pinkish purple color, and she had a busted lip. She’d been fighting, which wasn’t a total surprise, because like I said, she has a big mouth. People were bound to have the desire to punch it.
Then when my best friend and business partner Roman, the imbecile who decided that we were going to hire this hot mess, explained the particulars around this brawl of hers, my opinion of her grew even less favorable.
She had been fighting a man.
Her boyfriend.
Willingly.
And evidently she did this on a regular basis.
Jade was not the typical type of young woman you hear about who’s being battered by her boyfriend. Frightened. Trapped. Alone. Girls who don’t see a way out of the abusive relationships they find themselves in. That I can understand. I’ve seen it first hand, but Jade was different.
From what I was told about her over the years by Roman, she was smart and tough, but he left out one very important thing. She also craved drama. She liked the fighting. Probably because she thought it meant that her loser boyfriend loved her. She may have even picked a few of the fights. Looking for a battle. Which was even harder for my brain to compute, because it looked to me, like she was losing them all.
Big time.
It’s that type of idiotic shit that I couldn’t condone. She was damaged goods. A loose cannon. A liability. I certainly didn’t want her handling any of our business. Our clients. Our money. Hell no. Roman’s father and the owner of our business, Joseph, would never go for it either. Her life was too complicated, and there was no way in hell that any of us wanted that crazy to end up on our doorstep.
Crazy attracted police officers, and law enforcement meant questions. We certainly didn’t need anyone questioning anything that the three of us were doing, because some of it wasn’t legal. Actually most of it wasn’t. I didn’t care how many cops Roman’s father may have had in his pocket. There were always cops that couldn’t be bought. Cops that would be gunning for us if they got even a whiff of something illegal. And I sure as shit wasn’t ever going to jail if I could help it. Not because of some crazy bitch.
“What the fuck, Jade?” Roman asked after knocking on her front door and noticing her bruised and disheveled appearance.
“I know what it looks like—”
“It looks like you got beat the fuck up.”
“Really? Then you should see what the other guy looks like,” she said in jest. At least I think it was a joke.
“Where is that motherfucker?” I rarely saw Roman become that genuinely pissed about other people’s domestic clusterfucks, but he was officially mad. His anger seemed to cause a moment of worry to cross Jade’s face. My question was who she was worried about. The boyfriend or herself.
“He’s not here.”
“You can’t hide him from me forever.”
“I’m not hiding him. He’s just out. We needed some distance after our … altercation.”
She pointed to me. “Is this him?” Looking
me carefully up and down as if she was in any position to make an assessment about anything or anyone.
“Are you going to let us in?” Roman asked rhetorically.
“Yes, of course.” She sounded flustered for a moment. “Come in.”
It didn’t take but a second to see why she was so hesitant to let us in. The place was trashed. The few pieces of bullshit furniture in the apartment had been tossed on their sides. Clothes were strewn around the room. Old dirty dishes were piled in the sink and on the counter. Some were even broken into pieces.
The mess in her house wasn’t from one lover’s quarrel. It was definitely cumulative. That’s when I decided that if what I was seeing was any indicator of the cleanliness and organizational skills of the assistant we were there to hire, I was going to have to veto it. And my vote counted for two people, my brother and I, against Roman’s one.
“Jade,” Roman said practically seething as he looked around.
“I know, Roman, but—”
“This place looks like a goddamn meth lab. Where is he? I want to know right the fuck now. Is he getting high?”
“He doesn’t do meth,” she explained while looking over at me. As if I cared one way or another what her boyfriend’s choice of drug was. The fact that he got high was all I needed to know.
Roman rephrased the question.
“Whatever the fuck it is. He’s out buying it right now isn’t he?”
“Maybe.”
“With your money?”
“Probably,” she answered solemnly.
“I can’t let this stand anymore, Jade.”
“I said I’d handle it.”
“Look at your fucking face. This house. Do you honestly think you’ve got a handle on this situation?”
I noticed a crack in the tough girl’s armor. She was embarrassed, she was in over head, and I was pretty sure she wanted to ask for help but didn’t know how to. Especially with me, someone she just met, standing in the room.
Claimed by a King Page 10
