Vice (Tortured Heroes Book 1) (5 page)

“Jase Randall, this is my uncle, Cyrus Marsh.” Cy didn’t stand. Instead, he shot a look of disdain toward Jase and set his jaw at an angle. Oh shit. He was more pissed than I thought.

Some weird male body language or telepathy passed between them because Jase just nodded and didn’t extend his hand to shake Cy’s. He gave me a nod and a little half-smile. Those dark eyes of his flashed and he held the clipboard up.

“I’ll take care of this for you. Kinney showed me where to stack everything.”

“Thanks. Tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes to help him finish opening.”

Jase gave me a half-salute and smiled. “Take your time. We’ve got everything under control. Good to meet you, Mr. Marsh.”

He didn’t wait for an answer but turned on his heel and walked out of the room. I couldn’t help that my eyes went to his backside. He wore weathered jeans that hugged him in all the right places. God, I couldn’t afford to have him know I looked. I was his boss, dammit. I blinked hard and turned back to my uncle. He was busy giving me a different kind of stare with his arms crossed in front of him.

“I know, I know,” I said, trying to head him off at the pass. “I should have told you I hired Jase too. Again, it happened kind of fast. And you have to know, he saved my ass the night Bella had her little incident. He’s the one who found her passed out by the dumpster. He took charge, helped Kinney get her on her feet. And he didn’t say a word about it after. He could have. Hell, he could have called the cops, Uncle Cy. He had my back, okay?”

Cy spread his hands up in mock surrender, but his eyes still glimmered with disapproval. “What do you know about the guy?”

Now it was my turn to cross my arms in front of me and give him a withering stare. “I checked him out. He worked in a bar in Lincolnshire. I called the foremen at the last two construction jobs he had. He’s solid. And I
need
him. I love you, Uncle Cy, but I don’t love your management style. You’ve got to let me do my job in the best way I see fit.”

He shook his head. “And I want to let you. It’s a two-way street though, Devin. You’re hounding me about your sister. I’m telling you to let me handle tracking her down in the best way I see fit.”

Ouch. Didn’t see that coming. Touché. I couldn’t help but crack a smile. That’s the thing with family, they have a way of cutting you to the quick.

My turn to put my hands up in surrender, but
I
meant it. “All right. All right. I’ll get off your ass about Mandy for now. If you get off my ass about my personnel decisions.”

“For now,” he said as he rose from behind the desk and came to stand in front of me. He towered over me. I stood up to meet his eyes even though he was more than a head taller. “But I want to look into this Jase Randall’s background too. I have more resources at my disposal than you do. I told you when I handed the keys to you. I need to be involved in vetting all new employees. No exceptions.”

I let out a breath and shook my head. I reached around him and pulled Jase’s paperwork out from under a stack of other forms.

“Here. Knock yourself out. Let me know if you find anything interesting.”

Uncle Cy raised a bushy brow at me, licked a finger and rifled through the paperwork. “You bet your ass I will. And don’t give me that look. I’m looking out for your best interests, Devin. This guy could be anybody. Northpointe’s still a small town. I don’t like putting people on the payroll I know nothing about. And my instincts are almost always right, Devin. So let me do what I do. If your Jase Randall is hiding anything, I’ll find it.”

J
ase

In my thirty-six years on the planet, I’d managed to avoid ever living in a shitty little apartment. Until now.

Why the hell they call ’em studio apartments I’ll never know. It was a big square, ugly room. Two things made it somewhat bearable though. The place had solid oak floors begging to be refinished, and huge dormer windows facing the street. Those windows were why I even agreed to move in. My view overlooked the back entrance to
The Dive Bar
. I could see every coming and going from here when I wasn’t in the bar itself. It figured to make my job easier, or maybe quicker at least.

The phone buzzed in my back pocket. I clicked the screen and put the phone to my ear, not even bothering to check the caller ID. Only one person had this number.

“Hey, Lew!”

His grumbling swear in my ear made the joke worthwhile. “Don’t fucking call me that. Call me Stan or Chief if you have to.”

“Where’s the love?”

“Cut the shit, Reddick. Got anything for me?”

“Slow and steady wins the race, Chief. You know that.”

“How’s the apartment? You settled in now?”

I laughed. “Today was my one day off this week. My shit consists of about four boxes and a foldout couch. I moved in this morning. It’s a fucking palace. The view’s good but the walls are thin.”

Just as I said it, the windows rattled from the pounding bass of someone’s stereo across the hall. I checked the clock; it was coming up on midnight. Great. If that kept up, I’d get no sleep.

“What’s happening at the bar?” Stan asked.

“The place is hopping, that’s for sure. Our Devin Marsh knows what the hell she’s doing. Oh, I
did
meet Cyrus Marsh the other day though.”

Stan might have dropped his phone. I heard a ruckus on his end followed by another string of obscenities before he answered me.

“You shittin’ me? How’d that go?”

“Fine. I think I walked in on something. The girl, Devin. She’s his niece. He was in her office sitting behind her desk. Weird tension between them. Couldn’t hear well enough to tell you what it was about. But he sure as shit didn’t seem too happy to see me. When I get a chance, I’ll see if I can find out why.”

“What’s your gut telling you? You think the girl’s involved in whatever he’s running?”

I clenched my teeth. I barely knew her. Had no particular skin in the game with her yet. And still, I found myself hoping Devin Marsh was nothing more than she appeared to be. A tough, street-smart woman trying to get ahead in life. It did me no good that my balls tightened thinking about her bent over the ice bin the other day in those tight leggings she insisted on wearing. She’d so far been nothing but straight and fair with me. Her employees seemed to genuinely like and respect her. And she’d seemed legitimately horrified and concerned about the junkie from the other night, Bella.

“Jase! You still with me?” Stan barked in my ear. “I’m asking you what you think about this girl.”

“Right. Yeah. Honestly, I don’t know yet. It would for sure make sense. Uncle Cy sets her up to run his bar. She runs his dope for him on the side. That waitress I told you about, Bella, Devin might have just canned her for show. I’m the new guy. She has no reason to trust me. But I’ll need more time to figure out who the players are. Give me another week or two and I’ll start reaching out. I’ll put the word out that I’m looking to score.”

“Hmm. Yeah. Yeah. Sounds like a workable plan.”

“Then why do you sound pissed?”

“I’m not pissed. I’m just impatient.”

“Is there something going on I don’t know about? What’s the rush?”

Stan went silent and I didn’t take it as a good sign. He let out a sigh. “We’re good, Jase. Swear to God. It’s just I don’t have to tell you, the longer our little side project takes, the higher the risk someone catches wind of it.”

“Right. The more people who know, the more likely somebody shit cans our progress. You hearing any more rumblings from the feds as to what happened with their case against Marsh?”

“Nope. They clammed up pretty quick. Like I told you, they were all set to indict, then poof, they closed up shop and nobody’s talking.”

“You got my back though, right, Stan? You need to let me know if there’s anything heading my way I need to watch out for.”

“On my life, Jase. You have my word.”

That was more than good enough for me. “Good. I’ll call you next week. You know how to find me before that if you need me. Keep the faith, man. I’ll find a way to nail this son of a bitch.”

“Take care, Jase. Same here. You call me if you need anything.”

I clicked off and held the phone to my chest. The bar was dark now. Devin closed at ten p.m. on weeknights. Tomorrow was Friday and she had another band lined up to play. I could be in for a long night so the smart thing to do was turn in. A capital plan except the pounding bass from across the hall got even louder.

“Shit,” I muttered. The last thing I wanted to do was go bust balls. Not exactly the first impression I wanted to make with my new neighbor. Although, he sure as shit didn’t seem to care about the impression he was making on me. And I wanted to stay under the radar. The smart thing would be to never even meet the guy. Fade into the woodwork. The fewer connections I made in Northpointe, the better. I didn’t want anyone thinking about me when I wasn’t there.

I pulled out the hide-a-bed and tried to settle in. The fucking floorboards shook and vibrations went straight up through the metal supports beneath my mattress.

“Mother fucker!”

I tried to put a pillow over my head but that didn’t work. I blew out a hard breath and ran a hand through my hair. “Fuck this shit.”

I had no choice. I threw on a pair of black drawstring sweat pants and headed across the hall barefoot. I balled my fist and pounded on the door. Aggressive, maybe, but there was pretty much no way this douche was going to hear me if I didn’t half break the fucking door down.

I pounded again, surprised no one else came out to see what was going on. The landlord told me this was a quiet building and that he only had about a quarter of the units rented. Hell, maybe this guy and I were the only tenants on the floor. Still, whoever lived below us had to be just as pissed as I was. On the third knock, the door finally flew open and my breath went straight out of my lungs.

Devin stood before me in a white tank top, blue-and-white checkered pajama pants, and the sexiest scowl I’d ever seen. She wore that mass of hair loose and it framed her face in wild, dark ringlets. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ as she was just as shocked to see me as I was her. Her small feet poked out beneath her oversized pants with dainty toes, nails painted glittery blue. An odd detail to notice, but I’d only ever seen her in combat boots.

“Uh, hey. I didn’t know you lived here.”

Devin cocked her head to the side. Little red splotches colored her cheeks as she blushed. “Hey. Uh. Yeah.”

We stood there like that, with the bass from her speakers pounding in time with my quickening pulse. My eyes raked over her and hers over me. Her long neck, the slope of her shoulder, the hard angles of her collarbone beneath the thin strap of her tank top. Her gaze settled on the ink over my right bicep. Angel’s wings and a story I didn’t like to tell anyone. She chewed her bottom lip and leaned her head against the door.

“Well, uh. Good to see you. It’s getting kind of late so I need to turn in.” I’d caught her off guard. I’m not going to lie. I liked her this way. Cute, unsettled. Her smartass comments seemed to have left her head. She tapped her fingers against the side of the door.

“Right,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me. She really had no idea why I was here. It was somehow adorable and infuriating all at once. “That’s why I’m here. Your stereo. Can you turn it down?”

Devin’s eyes went wide and her face split into a sheepish grin that made my insides churn. Goddammit, she was cute as hell. All I could think about doing was kissing away the smirk on that heart-shaped mouth of hers. I needed to rein that shit in quick. Hooking up with her would be the fastest way to blow this investigation. Plus, for all I knew she could be at the center of the whole thing. God, I hoped to hell she wasn’t. But if her uncle was using
The Dive
as a front to move product, chances were pretty good she knew about it.

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Sorry. I’m used to being the only tenant on this floor. Gus didn’t tell me anyone else had moved in. When
did
you move in?” She yawned. Fuck, even that was sexy. Her eyes watered and she blinked hard; that slow blush crept down her neck and colored the hollow of her throat.

“This morning. I’d been more or less staying in cheap motels or my car since I got into town.” I don’t know why I revealed that much to her. Except she made me want to. Devin had a way of looking at you with those wide brown eyes of hers that made you feel like she was really listening.

She smiled and looked off to the right. When she settled her laser focus back on me, her shield was back in place. “You’re an interesting guy, Jase. Welcome to the neighborhood. So should I feel safer with you around or is that another reason to lock my doors at night?”

I laughed and did something that surprised even me. I don’t know what it was, but the idea of her living alone in a shitty part of town like this got my back up. I moved toward her and poked my head around her door.

“Depends on the lock,” I said. She took a step back as I ran my hand along the side of the door. No deadbolt. Just a fucking chain. I shook my head.

“Not smart,” I said. “All anyone would have to do is give this thing a swift kick and they’d be in your apartment in like three seconds. You need a heavy duty deadbolt.”

She sighed and nodded. “I’ve been on Gus about that. I had one, but it didn’t work. So he took it off and was supposed to install a new one last month. I’m still waiting. He’s a sweet guy, and the rent’s cheap, but there’s your first warning about living here. Don’t expect speedy maintenance if anything goes wrong.”

“Lucky for me, I’m handy,” I said, shooting her a wink. I wasn’t kidding about the lock. Ice shot through my veins thinking of all the awful things that could happen to her in the middle of the night if she wasn’t careful. “You mind?”

She spread her hands in surrender and stepped even farther back, inviting me in. “I’ll go deal with the noise.” She smiled. She turned her back and walked across the wood floor. She leaned over the couch and clicked off the Bluetooth speakers. Finally, my ears stopped bleeding.

Devin had the same floorplan as I did. Wide open space and dormer windows. Though she had a more impressive view and a hallway where I assumed her bedroom was. A little twinge ran through me settling low in parts I needed to control. Her side of the building overlooked the old Rosary Convent and Cathedral. A huge medieval, European-style cathedral with tall parapets and a gilded steeple. I’d learned the place hadn’t housed a congregation in decades and was mostly vacant except for the occasional wedding ceremony. What an odd fucking part of town this was. Devin’s bar had the abandoned cathedral on one corner, and that brake and muffler shop on the other.

“What the hell were you listening to, anyway?” I said, testing the chain. It was heavy, but it wouldn’t stop someone determined to get in.

“Oh. New semi-local band sent me some stuff. They’re trying to convince me to give them time later this month. What do you think?”

“Of the band? I’m probably the wrong guy to judge. I’m more of a classic southern rock kind of guy.”

Her sultry laugh sent shivers up my spine. “I actually meant, what do you think of my lock?”

“Oh, that.” I fingered the chain. “It’s a piece of shit. Let me pick up something more sturdy for you tomorrow. You think Gus’ll have a problem if I do some maintenance?”

“Oh, jeez, Jase. I didn’t mean to make more work for you. I mean … no, Gus won’t give a shit. He’ll look at it as one less problem for him. He really is a good guy, but he’s a little overextended. He owns three or four other rental complexes across town. But seriously, I didn’t mean to drag you into anything.”

“You didn’t drag. I offered. I’m kind of surprised I’m the only one giving you shit about it. You got a dad? A brother? An overprotective boyfriend?”

Her nostrils flared as she blew out a breath. Her face took on a curious expression with her eyes wide and her mouth drawn into a thin line. “None of the above,” she finally answered. “I was about to open a bottle of wine. You want a glass? You good with red?”

I smiled and nodded.

“Let me guess,” she called out from behind the half wall separating her living space from the kitchen. “You’re more of a beer guy than a red wine guy. I’d say that goes better with classic southern rock.”

“You’d guess right.”

She came out with two stemless wine glasses and handed me one. She took a long sip of hers and I watched the muscles in her slender neck work as she swallowed. God, every little detail about her fascinated me. She took a seat on her long brown suede couch, tucking her knees up and crossing her feet at the ankles. Then she invited me to join her by pointing to the opposite end of the couch with the index finger of the hand she used to hold the glass.

I sat down and faced her. The wine was cold and smooth going down. Strong stuff with a salty aftertaste. So, she liked real wine. Nothing fruity. “It’s good,” I said, taking another sip.

She perched her glass on her knee and set her head at an angle as she looked at me. “How are things working out for you at
The Dive
so far?”

I nodded. “Good, solid work. Decent group of people you’ve got working for you.”

“Sorry I didn’t have anything more glamorous to offer you. But if you’re still interested in bouncing, I might have an opening in a few months. Boomer’s on shutdown from his job at one of the machine shops. He’ll probably get called back in the fall.”

I nodded. “That sounds great. Wherever you need me. Really. I’m happy to help.”

She pursed her lips and looked me over, probably working out whether I was telling the truth. “What’s your story, Jase Randall?”