Chapter Twenty Two
Thebarwasbusy, but I still managed to snag my usual high rise waiting for Alex to stop flirting his ass off with Lexi and bring me whatever bottle of beer was in stock today. I scanned the room like always, noting the patrons who were in the bar today. God, I loved people watching.
Alex placed two bottles of Heineken – shockingly mainstream for here – and two glasses of bourbon on ice on the table and was about to start talking when a third bottle was slammed down, causing ours to froth over the lip.
Alex’s eyes narrowed at the arrival of his brother, his lip drawing back in a snarl.
“Hey, Mac,” I said, trying and failing to keep a smirk off my lips. Alex didn’t know that Mac and his boys had started coming here for a drink, but I sure did. Mac shot me a wink and crouched under the table.
“There’s my best boy,” Mac cooed to Rocky, scratching down by his back in just the right spot for his leg to thump hard against the wooden floor. His big tongue lolled out of his mouth in what could only be described as a dog’s look of pure pleasure. “Brother,” he grumbled, standing straight to lean against the high tabletop.
Alex scowled, ignoring his otherolder brother and taking a mouthful of bourbon instead. A pregnant silence descended as he swallowed, then asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Having a drink,” Mac retorted, holding his beer bottle up to show his brother the obvious reason for anyone attending a bar. He leaned toward me and kissed my cheek, lingering a bit too long to rile up Alex. “How’s the family?”
“Have you even bothered to call Will?” Alex asked, narrowing his eyes. “You know his wife is having a baby? You’re going to be an uncle.”
“Will’s going to be a dad?” I asked in surprise. Alex grunted and nodded his head. “Guess that makes sense why he’s been a cranky ass bastard of late.”
Mac laughed and clinked his bottle with mine. “Now why would I call my big brother?” he asked, shrugging off the baby news. “Bastard hasn’t spoken to me in nearly seven years since I joined up with my crew.”
“This isn’t the life he or Dad wanted for you.” Alex’s tone softened slightly, his face contorting to something resembling a sneer to anyone who didn’t know him like I did. But his expression, as small as it may be, was one of pain. He and Mac were inseparable when we were younger, and it hurt Alex that they’d lost that over their dad’s disapproval of the Bulldogs.
“But joining the family crime syndicate was a better option? You can dress it up any way you like, baby brother, but a turd is still a turd. I wasn’t interested in working for him way before I came of age. Plus, I’m happy with the Bulldogs and doing alright for myself. Didn’t mean Will had to follow exactly in Dad’s footsteps and shun me from family barbecues. Come to think of it, Alex,” he said with a pause, tapping his finger to his chin, “I think this is the most you’ve spoken to me in what? Five years? Still pissed I got to fuck our darlin’ and you didn’t?”
“Hey!” I protested, shoving at his huge bicep. “Low blow, asshole. Leave me out of it.”
“You know this has got nothing to do with her,” Alex said, jerking a thumb in my direction.
“Her is sitting right here!”
“Besides, from what I remember, it didn’t seem like she enjoyed your tiny dick if she never went back to you.” He sneered, and my anger at being used as some juvenile punchline to taunt each other was starting to build. This shit was getting old.
“Oh, she enjoyed it when she picked me over you in high school just fine.” Mac laughed, looking over to me with wagging brows, clearly enjoying the brotherly ribbing but failing to notice the prominent vein sticking out from Alex’s neck or the flare to his nostrils. Continuing, he said, “The way she wrapped those smooth, creamy thighs around my waist after the Winter Formal, quivering underneath me as she came, screaming my name in pure—”
Alex rounded the table, throwing a shoulder into his brother’s gut and crashing them both to the floor. He straddled Mac and began punching his face over and over while Mac laughed hysterically. Rocky leapt to his feet, barking and growling at the brothers who had a few heads turning to watch the fight.
Fellow Bulldog members got up from their stools at the bar to observe their fearless enforcer get his ass handed to him. I guess witnessing Mac laugh his maniacal head off while getting punched in the face didn’t appear to be an issue his boys needed to assist in.
Lexi looked over toward the siblings. Blood was pouring out Mac’s nose, and Lexi’s face was getting red with annoyance. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and got up to intercept the two buffoons fighting on the dirty floor.
“Enough,” I shouted over the sound of fists meeting flesh as I tried to break them up without having to intervene. Eventually, I reached out to grip Alex’s shoulder just as Mac pushed at his chest. Alex’s huge back collided with my chin, sending it upwards with such force my teeth crunched together and dug into my tongue. I let out a howl from the pain. That stung like a motherfucker.
“Stevie! Oh shit, babe. I’m sorry!” Alex scrambled off his brother to take my face in his bruised hands. “Are you okay? Shit, Stevie, let me see.” He gently massaged the edges of my jaw, urging my mouth to open. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, making me want to vomit. I reached for an empty glass and spat out the blood-saliva mixture into the tumbler.
“Son of a bitch,” I lisped. My tongue had started to throb and felt like it was growing too big to fit in my mouth.
“Sorry, darlin’,” Mac said, sheepishly wiping his bloodied nose on the back of his arm. “We didn’t mean for you to get in the crossfire.”
“You both are asshats,” I bit out with a scowl, but the angry vibe I was going for didn’t pack its full punch with my inability to pronounce my ‘s’s’ correctly.
“You boys know the rules,” chastised Lexi, placing wet paper towels on the table for Mac to clean his face. “No fighting in my bar, or I’ll need to ban you both for a month.”
The two boys apologised and ordered fresh drinks, along with a glass of ice. They made a fuss of me as we waited, all animosity between them broken on account of my poor tongue being a casualty.
“How are things with lover boy?” Mac asked after telling us about his gang’s latest heist stealing motorbikes downtown.
“He’s not her lover boy,” Alex growled into his glass. “He’s a mark. That’s it.”
“You didn’t see them together a couple of weeks ago in here, dancing, shooting pool. They were real cosy, bro. Think Jake has it bad for our little killer here.”
I tensed at that nickname. True, I had killed people, bad people, but that name was penned when I was seventeen and still made me feel dirty. It’s strange, considering that is what I am. I looked over to Alex, who was barely containing his rage at his brother’s observation.
“She’s going to get herself hurt,” he murmured, picking up his glass and draining the remaining golden liquid. “She’s not thinking straight, getting sucked in by his looks and money.”
“Bro, I’d get sucked in for those reasons too,” chuckled Mac as he got to his feet to head back to his boys sitting at the bar. “She’s a smart girl; she can handle herself. Plus, he seemed like an alright dude, so just chill.”
I shot him a smile as he pulled me in for a hug. “Stay safe, baby girl, and keep an eye on my brother,” he whispered in my ear for only me to hear as he pulled back. He held out a fist for Alex. I watched, silently begging for him to not be a dick now and ignore his brother after the evening had turned out to be pleasant following their brawl earlier. Thankfully, Alex reached out and tapped his fist with Mac’s. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
On the walk home, Alex and I agreed we needed to focus on the death of Jake’s brother. Not exactly the surrounding factors, but the news article did make us think of this whole assignment in a new light.
Perhaps this is linked to the narcotics his company makes or the revenue he pulls in every year. His company had a monopoly in manufacturing, and it was apparent that Jake, as a person, didn’t have any enemies, so it was a safe bet that by the end of this, I would have to steal from his company. I just wasn’t sure what that would be, and the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach didn’t sit right.
I took out my phone from my jacket pocket and dialled Jake’s number.
“Stefany,” he said, his voice low and husky on the other end of the line, making my heart flutter. “Is everything okay?”
“Sorry, did I wake you?” I asked, suddenly aware it was late and he might have been in bed.
“Not at all,” he replied smoothly. I could picture him lounging in bed with his shirt off, maybe watching something on TV. All hypothetical, since I hadn’t seen him naked yet.
Yet. I inwardly groaned before taking a breath.
“Well, I was wondering if you would like to go out for dinner tomorrow? Since our evening got cut short the other day.” My cheeks flushed at the memory of his head between my legs.
He chuckled down the phone. “I can have a driver collect you at seven. We can go for dinner at this Italian place in town I know, and then head back to mine for dessert?” His voice was filled with an innuendo that released the floodgates.
“I was actually thinking I could pick you up?” I offered, my voice an octave higher as I started to imagine all the things he’d want as dessert. “In my McLaren, since you were so taken with her, and you did give me a ride in your beast of a machine.”
He laughed again as the sound of clinking glasses and what sounded like female giggling could be heard in the background. “I’d love a ride. I can text you my address tomorrow, but I need to go right now. Client meeting.” He hung up without waiting for my reply, and I looked at Alex with a frown.
“What?” he asked, waiting for Rocky to stop sniffing a patch of grass at the side of the road. I looked at my phone screen, one-fifteen flashed on the home screen.
“He said he had a client meeting. Now.”
“Think he’s cheating on you?” Alex jeered, a hint of smug satisfaction donning his lips so clear I could see it in the moonlight. I scowled at him, remaining silent before he quickly placated. “He’s probably just hosting people from Europe, Stevie baby. You know; time difference, jet lag, that sort of thing.”
“I could hear a woman in the background,” I said, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish at how pathetic that sounded. “But you’re right, it was probably just clients.”
My head had started to fill with scenarios of Jake entertaining a young hot woman at his apartment, doing all the things to her that he’d started to do to me. Or perhaps he really had stepped away from a conference table to take my call while his clients finished up a posh schmoozing dinner filled with laughter and expensive wine.
The latter seemed more plausible; he didn’t seem the type to date multiple women at the same time. But we weren’t dating and we sure as shit hadn’t spoken about exclusivity, so he could do what the fuck he liked.
For fuck’s sake, Stefany Matthews, Jacob Weston is a fucking job. You aren’t dating, nor will you ever be dating, so grow a pair and realise this cannot happen.
No, fancy exec types had meetings that moved onto an informal dinner and drinks all the time. That would be what was happening on the other end of the phone, and I shouldn’t care about either circumstance being the truth. He was just a job. But Alex’s first comment settled heavily in my stomach, making the beer roll.
Was Jake seeing someone else?
Should I even care if he was?
The answer was obviously no, I shouldn’t care. But then why did the thought kind of hurt?