Rip
“I can’t imagine how a mean motherfucker like you managed to not only get Rose’s daughter, but also make it work. I swear, you have surprised the fuck out of me, King,” Dax says. “But I know if you ever end up dead, Rose killed you.”
I don’t respond or even acknowledge his words. We’re here to deal with Brennan and his people, not talk about my personal life. I sure as shit don’t give a fuck about how Rose feels about me and his daughter.
“Why the fuck are they keeping us waiting?” I whisper to Dax.
The Brennans are acting as if they are running shit. They aren’t. They are the ones with the need, not us. We provide a service, and when we end our dealings with them, others are ready to take their place. We don’t do business with everyone who reaches out to us. Now that we’re established, most of the people who want to work with us get rejected.
“I don’t know, but they have five minutes before we’re out.” Dax looks down at his watch.
The abandoned warehouse is dank, and the flickering light overhead only adds to the gloomy atmosphere. Now I have to be here when I want to be home with my girl. Instead, I’m in this dreary room. For a family that runs a legitimate business, they always want to meet in the worst places.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out in time to see Eden’s car and the gray SUV drive through my gate. Her friends hop out of the car and sprint to my front door.
Eden says something I can’t make out and walks briskly down the hall. I follow her until she gets to the end of the long hallway and turns left. She goes to the last room, which is my office. She closes the door and locks it. I’m the only one who has the code to open it. She has access to everything in this house, except for my office and my hidden gun case, which she doesn't know about.
I watch as she gives them a tour. They go upstairs and into my bedroom. The room is spotless, thanks to me. The mayor’s daughter opens a drawer, but Eden slams it shut and gestures for them to leave.
The preacher’s daughter twerks in front of the bed and uses one of the posts like a stripper pole. I roll my eyes at them. The nosy one stands in front of the bed and mimics doing the doggy style position. Eden finally snatches them by their hands and pulls them out of the bedroom.
“What kind of sick, twisted fuck has video in his bedroom?” I hear Dax’s voice. I ignore him and tap on the screen until I get to the pool. I don’t have long to wait until the three of them come running out. The nosy one does a cannonball, and the preacher’s daughter dives in headfirst.
Eden has a pretty wrap around her green bathing suit. I turn my body so Dax doesn’t see, but he moves with me, his eyes glued to my screen.
“Relax, King. I’m not checking out your girl. You’ll kill me in my sleep.”
“Nope. I’d kill you with my bare hands while you’re wide awake.” And I mean it, too. I’ve never wanted anything or anyone in my life until Eden Rose walked into my club that Saturday night. No one is taking her away from me.
“I believe you,” Dax says.
Eden sits at the edge of the pool and puts her feet in, but the preacher’s daughter swims to her, grabs her ankles, and pulls her in. The three of them splash water at each other until they tire themselves out.
I finally put the phone in my pocket.
“Pity,” Dax says. “I was enjoying the show. Hey, tell me this …”
I wait to hear what he’s going to say.
“How the fuck did the sheriff’s daughter turn a mean fuck like you into the type of guy who lets her and her friends have access to your house? You don’t even get mail there because you can’t stand anyone.”
“Fuck off,” is all I say.
He scoffs and smirks at the same time, but we hear footsteps and chatter behind the door. It finally opens, and two men enter.
Reed and Chandler Brennan, Jack's older brothers, appear unassuming. They are short with noticeable guts, and despite the hot weather, they are both in tracksuits that look like they’ve seen better days.
I don’t speak. This isn’t my show. It’s Dax’s.
It’s also a mystery as to why they called this meeting. Preacher sent them the file with their brother’s activities. He did it anonymously, but soon after that, Dax sent word that we were out. It wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
“Jack’s out,” Reed Brennan says.
Chandler doesn’t speak. I don’t think I’ve ever heard his voice, but the two don’t go anywhere without each other. According to Preacher, they are married to sisters and live next door to each other.
Dax doesn’t comment. He’s more stoic than I am.
“You’ll deal with me from now on,” Reed says.
