Absolute Trust - Jeana E. Mann
One
Cash
A few blocks away from Monument Circle in downtown Indianapolis, Gage picks me up in the Escalade. I hop into the passenger side, close the door, and lean back in the seat. His fingertips tap on the steering wheel. I’ve known this guy since first grade. He can’t hide his thoughts from me, and I know exactly what he’s gonna say before he says it.
“Can I tell you something?” he asks.
“No.” I slip on a pair of black Ray-Bans to diminish the bright midday sun.
As usual, he ignores my request. “What the fuck are you thinking?” Exasperation overpowers his usually even tone. “This girl isn’t worth the trouble. You’ve got your money. Let her go.”
“Not your problem, Gage.” As we wait on a side street for the traffic light to change, Jagger breezes through the intersection in the cross lane, and damn, she looks fine in the red roadster. I smile at the sight of her dark hair flying in the wind.
“Jesus,” Gage mutters. “First her sister. Now her. What is it about you and the Jones women?” He lowers the window to rest an elbow on the door. Warm air drives away the chill of the air conditioner. “Didn’t you learn your lesson after Calliope?”
“And what lesson would that be?” I lower my shades, daring him to continue.
“To keep your dick in your pants and quit mingling business with pleasure.” With a press of his index finger to a button, the double sunroofs slide open and sunshine pours into the interior.
“Again—not your problem.” I return the sunglasses to the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. The last few weeks have been exhausting—emotionally, physically, and financially. Jagger might be out of my life, but she has never left my thoughts. Having her on my payroll will alleviate the constant, primitive need to know where she is and what she’s doing.
We’re silent for a few miles, but tension emanates in waves from Gage. His smoldering irritation reminds me of third grade when I borrowed his bicycle and wrecked it. Because he was so much stronger than I was, I ended up with a broken nose and two black eyes. It had been our first and only fist fight in a lifetime of disagreements. Afterward, I promised never to abuse his property, and he vowed to hold his temper in check. Not a lot has changed since those times, except his muscles are bigger and I no longer live in a rust bucket car along the sidewalks of the Chicago streets.
“It’s my problem when you jeopardize our business.” His jaw flexes, a definite sign of trouble on my horizon. “You lost your head over Calliope, and look what happened. She stole your money and dumped you for a Russian mobster. I don’t want to see history repeat itself with her sister.”
“Jagger isn’t Callie. She won’t do that.” Of course, he knows which buttons to push—my ego and my pride. “Let’s drop it.”
He yanks the SUV to the curb, shoves the gearshift into park, and cuts the motor. “For months, I’ve been going along with your crazy fascination over Jagger. Now, you’ve given her your favorite car and invited her into the business—our business—and I gotta say, your behavior is fucking out of character. As your partner, I’ve gotta right to know where your head’s at.”
We glare at each other. Deep down, I know he’s correct. What started out as a vendetta against my ex-girlfriend has turned into a fascination with her little sister. Of all the women in the world, why does it have to be Jagger? The more I know about her, the more I want to know. She’s sassy and smart and unapologetic. “I like her, man. She’s got potential.”
“Potential for what? Disaster?” Gage grimaces. “Look. If you want to keep her around for sex, then by all means, have at it. Don’t mean you gotta cut her in on our deal.”
“You know how you felt about Chelle?” My sister’s name feels weird on my lips. Maybe because we never talk about her.
“Yeah.” Gage’s voice is quiet. His attention turns to the park across the street. The muscles of his throat constrict. “What’re you saying here?”
Expressing emotions has never been our thing. Especially when it comes to women. Feelings cloud a man’s judgement. Get in the way of the truth. Of all people, Gage is the only one who might understand. Although he never said as much, I know he loved my sister with all his heart. I exhale