“Eden, you don’t just take someone to your mother’s without their knowledge. He should have asked, and I would have said no.”
“Girl, what do I know about that? The last time I said no to a man, I ended up married to him.” The three of us cackle. “You like him.”
“I do,” I admit.
“So, give him a chance. It’s not like you’re going to end up married to the guy next week. Agree to be with him and see if it works out. If he’s not what you want, dump his ass.” Eden squeezes my hand. “In the meantime, we can all go on vacation together.” She rubs her hands in anticipation.
“I don’t like that he kidnapped her,” Selene throws in. “What kind of shit is that? And don’t you dare blame yourself for following him around. It sounds like he set a trap for you.”
“Yes, but I started that game. I’ve thought about it, and I’m going to tell him I want to be with him.” Eden claps, but Selene doesn’t seem appeased.
“I’m going to keep my eyes on him,” Selene says.
Chapter 22
Dax
Leander Lamb sits in a rear booth at Seven Heaven, smug and sure of himself. He thinks he’s here to receive a check for his campaign. He’ll get his check, but it’s me who will get what he wants.
It’s taken far longer than I wanted it to, but Devin Lamb revealed himself to be the fuck up that he is. He’s been stealing cash from the register. He has stolen high-value equipment and sold it online. He’s created fake refunds and deposit transactions.
In the past month, he’s stolen over ten thousand dollars from me. Anyone else would have their life ruined for that and would have to pay back two or three times that amount, if not more. Not Devin Lamb. He will never know it, but he did me the biggest favor of my life.
“I was pleased to hear from you,” Leander practically rubs his handstogether.
“I’m afraid this won’t be a pleasant visit.” My voice is low and lacking the usual fake pleasantness I reserve for certain people.
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow and shifts in his seat. “How are things with you and Cori?” He sounds hopeful, and while I should be happy at the question, I’m disgusted by it. He thinks my relationship with his daughter will benefit him, and I can’t stomach that.
“That will depend on what you do next.” I tilt my head, and Preacher arrives with his iPad. He sets it on the table and presses play. The room is quiet as we watch a montage of Devin stealing cash from the register and taking equipment from the storage room. There are shots of him creating fake returns.
Leander’s eyes widen at each frame, but he remains quiet until the screen goes black. I don’t speak, and despite the cold January weather, there’s a thin coat of sweat on his forehead. He uses his handkerchief to wipe it.
“I know you don’t deal with the police.” The words stumble out of his mouth. He clears his throat and wipes his forehead again. He’s probably relieved by my lack of police involvement, and I won’t as long as I get what I want. Otherwise, that worthless piece of shit he raised will have to deal with the consequences.
“Not yet. I don’t appreciate thieves, Mr. Lamb. In my line of work, thieves don’t fare well.”
“It’s Leander. Or Lee.” My jaw clenches, and silence blankets the room. “I’ll pay you back.”
He can’t afford it. I know it, and he knows it. He has a second mortgage on his house, medical bills in the six-figure range, and, according to Preacher, three maxed-out credit cards. The man is beyond broke.
“How much, Preach?”
“Ten thousand, two hundred and eight dollars. Give or take.” He twists his neck until it cracks. “You know how I feel about thieves. Let me deal with him.”
Leander swallows and abruptly stands. He should be scared of Preacher. He’s tall, broad, and would pick up and toss Devin like a rag doll.
“We can work something out.”
“Plus interest,” I add. “And I’m not a fucking bank, so I can charge whatever amount I think is fair. I’m extra punitive when it comes to thieves.” The sweat returns, now coating his upper lip as well. “Or you can give me something I want.”
His eyes light up at the offer he thinks I’m about to give him. Politicians are all predictable scum who will do anything for money.
“Otherwise, I’ll let Preacher teach your thieving son a lesson, and I’ll still press charges. At most, he goes to prison. At least,ifhe has a generous judge, he’ll be a convicted felon. Either way, he’s fucked, Lee. He’ll never be employable again, so you and your wife will have to take care of him and his child forever.”
“Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”
I gesture for him to sit. Once he does, I pour each of us a bourbon and take the chair opposite him. I down mine, and he does the same. I pour him another. He’s going to need it.
