Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

“You don’t have to be ashamed with me, Evangeline. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’d like to consider us friends.”

He nearly choked on the words. Friends? Now he was certain he was losing his goddamn mind. He had no friends, save the men he called brothers, and he damn sure didn’t consider women of any kind friends. He either wrote them off as grasping bitches, or he took them to bed and made damn sure they both had a good time. And now he was spouting bullshit about platonic friendship with a woman most men would have had in their bed before she could blink. Drake owed him. Big.

“Now go do your shopping while I have the saleslady package what Drake has already arranged, and as I promised, when you are finished, I’ll give the saleslady the credit card and turn my back. All I will do is carry the bags to the car. No peeking. I promise!”

She gifted him with a smile that momentarily robbed him of breath, and suddenly he could see even more why Drake was so fascinated with this woman. She was the real deal. A rarity in the circles they traveled. Not a fake bone in her body. He was stunned by that revelation and not at all sure what to do about it. An unfamiliar emotion—jealousy—tightened his chest, and he swore violently to himself. Damn Drake and his luck to have found this one before any of the other men who ran Impulse with him.

He watched as she hesitantly browsed the racks, watching closely for the items that she paid extra attention to only to hastily drop when she looked at the price tag. He sent the saleslady a pointed look, and when Evangeline went to the next area, the saleslady promptly collected the items Evangeline had favored but had not chosen because of the price.

To the saleslady’s credit, she bagged the things Evangeline had hastily put back so she didn’t know they’d been purchased and then rang up the total, sliding the ticket in Justice’s direction. Once finished, Justice collected all the bags and escorted Evangeline out to the waiting car.

“Are we finished?” she asked in a wary tone.

He smiled. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m taking you home now.”

He ushered her into the car and then walked around to the street side and slid into the backseat next to her. As they glided into traffic, she aimed her gaze out the window, seemingly fascinated with the city, almost as though she’d never been to New York. Her reaction seemed odd for someone who lived and worked here.

As if sensing his scrutiny, she glanced his way self-consciously and gave him a small smile.

“I never get used to it,” she confessed, her hand fluttering toward the window. “I’m not sure I ever will.”

“What?” Justice asked curiously.

“All the hustle and bustle. The people. The skyscrapers. All the businesses and cars, the buildings stacked on top of one another. It reminds me of the anthills we had back home when they get stirred up and all the ants run everywhere.”

He laughed, noting the southern drawl he found charming.

“Where are you from, Evangeline?”

“Mississippi,” she said in a wistful tone.

“And what brought you to the city?”

Pain flashed in her eyes, making him instantly regret having asked a seemingly benign question. She turned her gaze back to the passing scenery as honks and the sounds of traffic blared in the background.

“I needed to make more money to help my parents,” she said simply.

The way she said it indicated the subject wasn’t open to further discussion, so he didn’t press, though now he was curious as to why she would have moved to New York because her parents needed money.

From what he knew of her, she worked late shifts in a bar in Queens. Surely there were better jobs to be had in Mississippi. And the way she’d spoken of the city in comparison to her home, she sounded very much like she was homesick and unhappy here.

He frowned, wanting to query Drake about her situation, but Drake wouldn’t take well to that at all. Not that Drake would ever think one of his brothers would poach on his territory, but what was Drake’s was Drake’s and he kept what was his to himself. Hell, they were all like that. Maybe it was why the group of men who worked with and for Drake had such a strong bond. They had too much in common and understood one another’s needs. Privacy being uppermost. And not being questioned and especially not answering to anyone except one another. It was an arrangement that worked well and was extremely profitable.

A sudden thought occurred to him. If Evangeline knew everything about Drake’s “business matters,” she’d likely bolt like a bat out of hell. His previous women didn’t give a shit as long as they got what they wanted out of the arrangement. Evangeline, on the other hand, didn’t appear to him to be a woman who could be bought. She was too honest and he couldn’t imagine her looking the other way on any unlawful activity.