Page 2 of An Angel's Share
“Yeah whatever, tell yourself anything you like. You fucking love it when I come over.” I grin at him like a madman and he genuinely starts to look worried.
After a dayof digging around physically at the ‘storage company’ in the daylight, then on my laptop, my mind is all over the place with what I’ve found. What the fuck is goingon? I need to process, I need to think. This could have huge implications for Marshall.
He told me not to bother looking into things too deeply, he doesn’t want the hassle. But this is starting to look like serious shit, not a minor hassle. I don’t want to cause trouble for him, but I can’t leave things like this alone. Not in my nature. And I will not have Marshall being taken advantage of.
I know my sister will throttle me if I knew something was wrong and ignored it and it ended up hurting Marshall. If I make that decision, I might as well sign my own death warrant right now.
I need to stop my cogs from whirring on this stress. I need to de-stress. And I know the perfect antidote for that. For me, anyway. Sex, sex, and more sex. Someone to do what I say when I say it. Someone for me to control and pleasure. Works every time.
I’m dressed and ready for action, sitting back and waiting for Jackson to stop primping and preening himself so we can go out. I wonder what the club CAshO has on tonight? Jackson claims he’s not a regular, so he wouldn’t know.
Bullshit. He’s a regular.
My grin gets wider as we pull up to the curb and he’s greeted at the doors by the security team, by name.
“We’re in the same business,” he tries to defend himself.
I just pat him on the back, laughing at how uncomfortable he is. How desperate he is to plead his case. “Jackson, you can’t kid a kidder.”
It’s my dad’s favourite saying. He grins widely at me. He knows it.
The club CAshO has been around in different formatsfor over two decades. Slipping in and out of fashion, it’s morphed from a normal club, to an eatery with a trendy music vibe, to a see and be seen venue for the rich and famous. The back of the place—the special events area—hosts everything from Oscars after parties to lavish special events, with VIP rooms catering to themed events.
Tonight’s motif?At the races.
Men in sharp suits, dripping in luxury accessories, mingle with women in amazing dresses and serious hats and headgear. Racing plays on the large screens with facilities set up to place your bets. The more drinks and drugs consumed, the more money is spent. One of the club's most profitable events, the wagers become larger and larger as good decisions start to fly out the window. Along with lots of inhibitions. This can be catered to with a separate entertainment event of a more intimate nature, if you’ve registered.
And clearly, Jackson, who never comes here, has us on the guest list.
The announcement is discreetly conveyed, event staff inconspicuously alerting the guests that the event is ready to start. Or should I say, the parade ring is ready for our perusal. ‘Runners and Riders.’ I grin at the horse related theme.
“I’ve put you down as a Rider,” Jax tells me. “I know you like to be in control at all times.” He rolls his eyes. He knows me well.
“How did you manage that at an event we only just rocked up to on the spur of the moment?” I don’t give him a chance to lie to me again. I grin wickedly and ask him, “What have you put yourself down as? Switching again?” He shrugs, annoyed with my ribbing, as I laugh at his face.
“I like to keep it interesting.” He grins at me, the naughtiest look in his eyes. “See you at home, brother.”
He’s crazy. Why on earth wouldn’t you want to be in charge? No fucking way that is ever happening.
I walk into the Riders waiting room—or should I say saddling up room—nodding at the majority men, and a few women. The women are stunning, beautiful. Done up to the nines. Gorgeous hair and make-up, along with serious outfits. Jackson may end up with a great pick.
“Jonno, good to see you, sugar,” Carter Maywood drawls at me, springing to stand in front of me.
I grin at him and shake his proffered hand. “You too. Having a good night?” I laugh at him, he’s so fucking loud all the time. Everything the man does is loud and out there. He’s more extroverted, more of an exhibitionist than my sister’s husband Kellen, and that’s saying something.
He manoeuvres me towards the back of the room, out of the glare of the crowd. Although every eye is on him, he’s oblivious. “How’s Kitten? No sign of the baby yet? Kasey is phoning her daily.”
He looks at me from under his eyelashes, eyeing up my tight-fitting shirt. Taking in my suit that’s moulded to my body. One I chose specifically to showcase the muscles and lean physique I work hard to maintain. He’s flirting again, batting his eyes ten to the dozen.
I ignore him, stating coldly, “He’s a dickhead. I can’t believe he’s still trying to wind up Kell and Xan. That interview he did about the love of his life marrying someone else. Subtle as a brick.”
He guffaws with laughter. “Yes, he does like to do that. They’re so very easy to wind off the clock though, especially when she’s involved.” He peruses my body like a piece ofartwork, looking me up and down. I’m getting a full inspection. He couldn’t get more obvious if he tried. “I’m sure he’ll be dashing over the minute she has the baby. Regardless of what Marcus and Xander say.” He shakes his head at me. “You here on your own, honey?”
I ignore the contrived invitation. “No. Jackson is here. Somewhere.” I waft my hand around. He doesn’t need to know exactly where. I’ve seen how he looks at Jackson too. Not that I should have to be worried about my big brother. But you never know with this guy.
“I’m off back to support the birth. I’ll be gone the day after tomorrow.”
“Well, give my love to Kitten, and the guys. I hope to go to Devon to see Marsh and Pinky. I had the best time with y’all in the summer. I’ll see y’all soon.”
