Page 28 of Cozen

Offended him.

Sargon found it all amusing.

Like small children trying to punish him on the playground because the mommies and daddies paid him a little bit more attention than they got. It was nothing more than petty jealously, and he didn’t entertain that sort of nonsense.

He had better things to do.

Foolish fuckers.

Sargon was there to do a job and get paid.

Nothing else.

“Are you enjoying your work?” Jett asked Sargon.

Sargon shrugged, and put a little more of his weight against the opened passenger door as if to seem relaxed. “It’s been fine.”

“The rest of the men have welcomed you, then?”

He looked over the other men—they dressed in black, while he kept his usual silk dress shirt, and black slacks—and then went back to Jett. He gave a nod, unwilling to say much else. He also wasn’t the type to tattle. The men would either step the fuck up, or back the fuck off.

Either of which, Sargon could and would handle.

Alone.

Sargon didn’t miss the way the men’s gazes darted in his direction after he spoke. They likely believed he would have taken his opening to get them in shit with their boss, as that was probably what they would have done to him.

Predictable.

“Good to hear,” Jett said.

Not saying another thing, Jett slid into the waiting car without a look back at Sargon or the other men. Sargon quickly closed the door behind the boss, and passed a look over his shoulder at the men. He cocked an eyebrow at them, still chewing on the piece of mint gum that helped to keep his mouth occupied instead of running more often than not.

The other two men didn’t speak.

Sargon was grateful.

Soon, he was in the backseat with the boss while Jett finished up a phone call, and one of the two men from outside slipped into the front seat to drive. Leaning forward, Jett muttered orders to the driver, and then slammed the partition between the front and back seats closed. It allowed for some privacy, but not a lot if the voices raised more than a murmur.

“You lied,” Jett said.

Sargon did not show the way his heart thundered at those two, seemingly simple words. Jett seemed harmless on the outside, and he was quite charming to those around him. Still, Sargon knew that was for show. Jett was as dangerous as the Obsidian blade Sargon liked.

“I beg your pardon?”

Jett’s dark eyes looked him over, and then he lifted a white eyebrow. “About my men—you lied.”

Calm settled back in Sargon.

“They’re a little sour over their lost comrade,” Sargon said, hoping to dismiss any concerns Jett may have. “I don’t blame them, really.”

“You know they run to me about every little thing you do,” Jett added.

Sargon chuckled, and looked out the window to hide his grin. “Oh, they do?”

“He won’t dress appropriately.”

“I dress fine.”