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“Find some fuckin’ investors,” he snarls.
I raise an eyebrow at the irony. “Is that not the reason we’re meeting with your president?”
“No, it’s not the fucking reason you’re here. You’re here because you refuse to pay protection,” Hangman barks.
I turn towards him and flash my teeth in a big but somewhat condescending smile. “I am not refusing to pay protection. I simply do not see how paying protection will increase the viability of my business.”
He rakes his eyes over me. “You look like a posh bitch. Why aren’t you getting your money from a bank or your family?”
“Hey!” Trigger and I say at the same time. It’s the second time Hangman has called me a bitch, and I don’t mind dirty talk – actually, I love it, but that’s between me and the handsome devil I’ve got my ass pushed into.
“Jesus Christ.” Hangman runs a hand through his hair, but it gets stuck because it’s braided. He looks at his fingers like they deserve to die. “Answer the fuckin’ question.”
I shift uncomfortably because I don’t want the Jury to engage my father. That would start a war and my daddy may seem like a nice guy, but deep down, he’s a bastard. Plus, I’m not quite ready to introduce him to my future husband. “My father is unhappy with my chosen career as well as where I’ve located my business. He has several influential banking friends who prefer not to get involved in our family feud. Father offered to front the money, but I said, ‘No thank you,’ because even if he only owned a 49 percent share, he would be overinvolved and eventually ruin me.
The office goes quiet as Hangman calms himself. “You got no other investors?”
“Of course, I do. If it were only my money, the clinic would still be closed. I have put up 51 percent, so I remain in control of the company. My other investors have offered up 25 percent of what I need to get started. I only need 24 percent more, then I will have the sufficient capital to get the business off the ground in a significant way.”
CHAPTERTEN
Trigger
Hangman furrows his brow as he looks from Reaper to me as if this conversation is our faults. I guess it is in a way since Reaper’s responsible for the ‘insurance’ collection and I’m responsible for Evanee. Yep, now that I’ve found her, she and all her baggage belong to me.
The silence grows and I half expect the prez to tell us to get out of his office because he needs some thinkin’ time. Instead, he belligerently says to Evanee. “Who the fuck are your other investors?”
Evanee considers his question. “Well, I guess, if you’re investing—”
Hangman cuts her off. “We’re considerin’ it, sweetheart. Nothing’s been decided on.”
She continues as if he hasn’t interrupted. “— in my clinic, I’ll have to be transparent. My assistant—”
Hangman cuts her off again. “If you got no money, how the hell can you afford an assistant?”
My girl narrows her eyes and flares her nostrils. For the first time since we arrived, I see her composure slip. Cold dread slips through me. Hangman won’t put up with her hostility towards him and I won’t put up with his aggression towards her.
My worry is unnecessary because the anger falls from her face, and she offers Hangman a charming smile. “My assistant invested her life savings, which equates to five percent of the required capital.” She pauses as her eyes rest on the prez. “And of course, the reason I need to continue as the major investor is so I don’t have to justify how I run my business to my investors.” She moves away from me and sits in the chair in front of the desk.
Come back, my dick begs.
Hangman’s fist curls and I think the only reason he isn’t shouting down the clubhouse is because Evanee shifts in the chair so she’s showing him a side profile and uses her tits to distract him. I scowl at the universe, then say to Evanee. “Face front!”
She startles as she looks at me, then purses her lips before she offers me up the same smile that she gave Hangman a moment ago. The chick needs a bit of tuning in if she thinks she can fuck around with me. I mean, yeah, I’m not above being manipulated, but she’s putting me in the same boat as all the other men and I’m not okay with that. Plus, it’s bullshit that she uses her sexiness to get her way.
My lust grows when she obeys, shifting her ass so she’s facing forward. Reaper gets a nice side-view, but he isn’t looking, though by the expression on his face, it’s taking effort.
“If the club invests and that’s a big fuckin’ if, you’re fucking around with our money. You do that, you’re gonna answer to me.”
She glances my way with some confusion on her face. It’s like she’s unbalanced because I won’t let her use her usual way of operating. Still, she gathers herself, straightens her shoulders, which of course gets us all looking at her tits again, but I forgive her this time, because she can’t make them smaller. “Sir.”
“Evanee,” I growl.
She sighs. “Hangman. We will draw up an agreement that outlines how much you can expect as a return on investment and when you can expect to receive it. An agreement, right? Something that will satisfy both of us.”
Hangman starts to interject but she shakes her head at him like he’s a naughty schoolboy. “Every investment is a risk, and as you are well aware, small businesses fail everyday.”
“None of my fucking businesses fail!” Hangman blusters.
