The Ringer (9 page)

There was no better lawyer to work on his behalf than Nathaniel Thornbird. He needed his big brother in his corner.

“Will you be okay?” Nate put on the jacket to his suit. “I’ve got a meeting with the executives at Quad Corp, but I’ll be back before this evening.”

“Maxie’s dad is finally entrusting you with family business?” Jax joked.

“No, he’s parading around the doofus marrying his daughter.”

“Piece of cake,” he tried to cheer him up.

“Yep, a piece of cake,” his brother repeated with a sincere smile. “It’s certainly nothing I can’t handle.”

Nate had his work cut out for him. Even in his current predicament, Jax would be hard pressed to switch places with his brother. Quite frankly, it was a toss-up between Nate’s future billionaire father-in-law, who was also an egomaniac, or half the Chicago PD, who happened to be hot on his trail.

Maxie’s father and all his dirt were a lifetime of grief. His problems wouldn’t last long. Nate had chosen a much harder path.

“Hey.” Jax stopped his brother before he reached the door. “Do you think you can get me into that big charity event tonight?”

His brother quirked his brow. “Without someone tracing it back to the family? Probably not, but there’s someone who can.”

Jax’s heart sank.

He didn’t need to owe Maxie. She never bartered with money, and the crap she wanted was damn near a testament to mental gymnastics to obtain. He would have preferred to dig into his trust fund and break her off a brick rather than owe her another favor.

“Can you ask her just this once—”

Nate held up his hand. “There’s not a whole lot I wouldn’t do for you, baby bro. But depriving Maxie of one of her favors?” He shook his head and wiggled his finger at him. “It’s just not in the cards. Besides, I don’t want to get in the way of your friendship with my future bride now that you are both certifiable criminals and all.”

“Nice,” Jax grumbled.

“I had to say it at least once.” Nate laughed. “Look, whatever it is that you’re up to, baby brother, be safe.” He gave him a half salute good-bye and walked out the door.

***

Blood
. Lane touched her chin. She could have sworn a trickle of blood slipped down her cheek, but it was nothing more than sweat. Since she didn’t care for either one of those particular body fluids, it was no wonder she’d confused the two.

Their torture session had moved down to the gym floor with the promise that it would be over soon. She had wanted to bolt while Maxie went back and forth with someone on the phone. If she’d had the slightest clue where to go in the huge maze of a building, she would have made a break for it.

“You’re dealing with corrupt politicians, ” Maxie said, once she hung up and slipped the cell back into her top. “Lawmakers of Chicago. So getting hit in the face is the least of your problems.”

She towered over her by at least four inches. Focused on the heated throb of pain from her chin, Lane barely caught a word Maxie said while she laid out the rules of girl Fight Club.

Beat up and poorly dressed, Lane had envisioned the day so differently when she woke up this morning.

“You have to keep calm regardless of the pain, and remember there is no room for lady-like behavior.”

She nodded in hopes she wouldn’t be hit again.

“Go for the eyes.” Maxie stopped inches away from her cornea. “Groin.” She pulled her close, pretending to knee Lane in her fake nuts. “And throat.”

Quickly, Lane jumped back before her trachea could be dislodged. “Eyes, groin, throat. Got it,” she huffed. “We’re done, right?”

“Make sure to keep your assailant close.” Maxie ignored her pleas. “It makes it harder to hit you. Now, break my hold.”

Startled when Maxie turned her around and jumped on her back, she flipped the stick-thin blonde straight over her shoulder.

“Shit,” Maxie muttered.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry.” When threatened, her mind shifted to autopilot. She hadn’t meant to hurt Maxie, but the unexpected always made her react in a fight-or-flight type of manner.

“Whoa, Lane, good job.” Maxie coughed and tried to sit up.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. Lane tried to help her off the floor. “I have no idea what just happened—”

“Fight or flight, huh?” Maxie pushed herself onto her knees to catch her breath.

“Yeah, Jax’s partner called me grenade.”

“Those are the best.”

Lane grabbed her arm to shoulder her weight and pull her up.

“Men consider them keepers.”

“Why would a grenade ever be a good thing?” she asked with a hearty laugh while she led Maxie toward the door.

“Grenades don’t go off unless the pin gets pulled.”

Definitely a better way to look at the horrible title Raff had bestowed on her.

“Let’s call this session a wrap. Jax has plans for you tonight at the Eco Ball, and pulling strings to get you guys into it would have gotten me one hell of a favor. Unfortunately, it’s going to take the entire makeup department at Bergdorf’s to fix the bruises on your face.” Maxie sighed. “I guess I can call us even.”

“So what would they consider you?” She routed back around to their previous conversation. “A grenade?”

Maxie’s deep laugh ended with a cough. “Nate could answer that better, but since we’re committing to full disclosure, I must admit I’m more of a land mine. Stepping on me will kill you.”

Without knowing a lot about her, Lane decided the description fit better than any she could have come up with on her own.

Two well-placed leaves hugged her breasts. The tiny skirt made of foliage tried to hide the fullness of her ass.

At any minute, Lane anticipated the cops would arrest her for indecent exposure. She made her way around the party with a tray full of hors d’oeuvres, a smile, and not much else.

The gala was being held at a corporate mansion. Maxie explained the house would often be rented out but for an astronomical fee. The posh Spanish Villa had been transformed into the Garden of Eden for the Environmental Ball, one of the biggest charity galas of the season.

Large palms mixed with exotic flowers and beautiful birds transformed the house into an island of paradise. Nevertheless, she hadn’t been invited to the ball as a guest.
No, too easy
. Instead, Maxie handed her fabric that barely resembled an outfit and gave her explicit instructions about her job as a server.

With all her aches and pains, she had taken the skimpy costume and made Maxie promise she wouldn’t be sold into some kinky sex slave ring if she agreed to do this.
Who knows what these wealthy people are into
?

“I’ll be your Adam if you’ll be my Eve,” a creepy old man told her when she tried to pass.

She plastered a smile of serenity on her face and shoved a roll or two in her mouth. Not enough people picked food from her tray, and she needed the excuse to go back to restock her tray.

“Do you need a rib?” another codger asked.

Lane continued to smile and kept her eyes on the clock above the fireplace. In five minutes, she would need to unlock the library window to let Jax in the mansion. She eased her way toward the kitchen.

Someone’s hand clamped down on her backside and squeezed tight. Lane stopped in her tracks. The force almost toppled her over.

“You remind me of that redhead filly who comes on the idiot box.” Fetid breath of denture cream and stale cigarettes wafted up her nostrils.

She tried to remember what Maxie had told her while the ancient jerk continued to pinch her ass.
Be calm and don’t overreact. Think of a way out of the problem
. She held her breath.

“Oh I’m not half as beautiful as she is,” Lane cooed, positive he’d compared her to that busty actress, Christina Hendricks, since everyone else did.

“No, darling, you’re more of a looker. Have you ever considered dying your hair red?” The old man released his tight grip. He twisted a ringlet that had fallen out of her ponytail around his finger and tugged.

“Sushi roll?” She turned around and shoved the tray in his face. The close contact from his breath made her eyes water.

“How about we blow this joint so I can see what you’re hiding under all those leaves?”

Lane slapped the man’s hand away before he could make a grab for the two big palms covering her breasts.

She plastered on a smile. “Don’t be naughty. We have to save all the good stuff for later.” She flicked the tip of his nose with her index finger. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to refill my tray.” She wiggled out of his reach and gave him a good view of her booty on her way to the kitchen.

“I’ll be coming for you later, gal,” he called.

She threw the tray on the countertop.

“It will only take a sec to load,” the harried caterer huffed at her when she didn’t stop her mad dash. She went to the back of the kitchen, toward the servant’s staircase, without pause.

“Bathroom,” she threw over her shoulder. Worried she would bash her brains on the tiled floor, she ran on her tippy toes. If she fell because of the ridiculous platform heels, Jax would never get out of this fix.

The first part of her job was to open the bathroom window on the second floor and then the library window near the foyer. Just to be safe, two exits needed to be available. One room he would enter by and the other room he would leave through.

She counted four doors down the corridor before twisting the knob to the bathroom. No lights he had told her. Lane felt her way across the room and unlatched the double window. Nearly wiping out on the slippery ceramic, she righted herself, unwilling to eat bathroom tile grout.

Still on the balls of her feet, she left the bathroom and teetered down the hall. Jax would need to enter the library from the second floor. The door was slightly ajar when she stepped into the room. Priceless lamps glowed with muted light leading the way.

Considered a restricted area, the two-story opulent library appeared lush with thick fabrics and was filled to the ceiling with books. The owners didn’t have enough cash to pay for security. The environmentalists had to guarantee nothing untoward would happen to their fancy stuff.

Behind schedule, she cranked open the foldout window before she hurried to the door to crack it open.

Several footsteps clumped past the library door. She waited for the right moment. According to Jax’s research, a man with silver hair would pass by in a matter of seconds. She counted in her head before she flung herself out the door, twisting her ankle along the way.

Catch me
, she prayed,
catch me now
. Lane’s free fall would end in one of two ways. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be with her face down on the floor. She braced herself for the impact, but the Illinois politician caught her in the nick of time.

“You all right, pretty lady?” He had perfect white teeth against smooth chocolate skin. A lot of men didn’t want curves. Most claimed they did, but her body, untouched for close to three years, became irrefutable proof men wanted a stick figure to hold onto at night.

She gambled on a plan that might not work. The politician appeared strong enough to shoulder the weight of her curvaceous body, but only time and gravity would tell.

The Governor of Illinois was thankfully in the baby boomer age bracket of men who appreciated a good rack and round ass.

“Oh, I think I twisted my ankle,” Lane whined. She hopped toward the door she’d just fallen from.

The politician nodded at his men and must have come to the conclusion she wasn’t a threat since they hadn’t shot her, yet. “Go fetch the car, and I’ll be back in a sec, fellas,” he instructed his team and waved them ahead.

His security followed his orders, leaving them alone in the foyer, that mesmerizing smile never disappearing from his face.

“How’s your leg?” He helped her to the library.

“This is strange, but it feel’s like new.” Lane shifted her weight to shove the politician through the open library door before she slammed it shut behind him.

The governor looked back and forth in confusion, but he seemed to shake it off awfully fast. “Thornbird.” The man grinned. “I heard they had an all-points bulletin in Chicago for you, or do those still exist?”

The ominous cloak and dagger plan to corner the governor would’ve made Jax chuckle if the situation had not been so dire. He stood across the room, near the window he had climbed through. Thanks to Raff’s superb computer skills, they’d hacked into the governor’s calendar, which had everything timed down to the minute. Otherwise, they would have never been able to pull this circus sideshow off. Jax figured he was trying to woo those liberal donors to contribute to his next campaign.

“Person of interest,” he told him.

Governor Jones shook his head. “You’ve been upgraded to suspect, son.”

“Shit,” he hissed. “When?”

“About an hour ago, but honestly, it’s the least of your problems. Mortiz and Franco are AWOL. No one said anything about a leave of absence or a vacation. They just went poof.”

Jax’s heart sank to his knees. Mortiz and Franco were the dirtiest of the dirty. The captain’s pets would do anything, legal or not, to support their commander. Once again, the dynamics of the game had changed.

As a range of thoughts bombarded him, the governor patiently waited. “Tell me, what can I do for you, Thornbird?”

“Evidence. It’s what everyone is after, and it’s got to be big. I just have to be pointed in the right direction.”

Compassion filled the big man’s eyes. Governor Jones was a former offensive tackle for the Chicago Bears, and everyone loved him regardless of party affiliation. It helped that he was a smart, well-balanced guy. Jax hoped the politician’s penchant for fairness worked in his favor.

“Ahh, the million dollar question.” He chuckled. “It’s public knowledge that the mayor has tapped your captain for Top Cop, and the announcement will take place in a matter of weeks. If Blanchard gets what he wants, then you’re toast. I imagine that’s why the big dogs are after you.” Jones moved closer to him and took a seat in one of the leather wingbacks decorating the library.