Losing Streak (The Lane) (13 page)

“Jackson James! Language,” Mama admonished, though it was obvious she was amused.

The old Jackson would have kissed her soundly on the cheek with a mock apology. This Jackson, this new Jackson, however, just quirked his lips and took a seat next to me at the table. Mama’s eyes lingered on him a second too long before she was brandishing her spatula again and turning back to the stove, a worried look on her face.

I turned to look at Jackson and scowled.

“What’s up, big sis?” he asked, ignoring my dirty look.

“Nothing new,” I told him evenly after a moment of silence when I regarded him. “And you?”

He shrugged, all devil-may-care-but-I-sure-as-hell-don’t, and gave me a cocky grin. My scowl deepened. “Same. Nothing new. Work went good today, thanks for asking. I know you don’t worry yourself with the little people slaving away in your kingdom, but for the record, sales are still up.”

I opened my mouth to give him a scathing reply when I caught sight of Mama shaking her head imperceptibly.

“That’s good,” I replied, staring hard at him, almost willing myself to see what it was exactly inside of him that was broke so I could fix it, if not for him then for her. I came up empty-handed. “Joshua will be glad to hear it.”

“He will, won’t he?” He arched an eyebrow at me and gave me a pointed look. “Probably about the only thing he’d hear that would make him happy these days, don’t you think, sis?”

I had just opened my mouth to reply, to ask what in the hell he was talking about when Mama cleared her throat as she brought over steaming bowls heaped high. “You kids always had a way of talking to each other that confused me. It’s like you’re speaking your own language. I haven’t picked up on much of it, but I know when you’re antagonizing your sister, Jackie, no matter what language it’s in. Stop giving her a hard time.”

“Ma’am,” he replied, reaching forward to scoop some mashed potatoes onto his plate. Mama rapped his knuckles with her butter knife. “Prayers, Jackie!”

That was the rule. Whoever went for the food first had to say the prayers. We hadn’t had many rules growing up, but that was one that our Catholic mama had always enforced.

“Uh, right.” Jackson cleared his throat. “Thank you, Lord, for this spread and please heal my hand because Mama doesn’t know her own strength and I think she might have broke something. Forgive her, Father. She knows not what she does.”

Mama reached over again, head still bowed, and rapped his knuckles again. I couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst out.

“Also, Lord, thank you for dying on the cross for people like Rose. Thank you for remembering people like her.”

Something in my throat rumbled and it almost sounded like a growl.

“Lord, she scares me. Deeply. Protect us from our enemies and when I say enemies, I mean her. Seriously. She’s like a tiger or something. Something very mean and very dangerous. Protect us all from that. Amen.”

“You’re a dick,” I informed him and I was only half joking when I said it.

“Rosemary Grace!” Mama exclaimed and I could hear the horror in her voice. “You are much too pretty for such ugly words to come out of your mouth.”

“Sorry, Mama,” I said, shooting Jackson a dirty look that he missed, he was so focused on his plate. “It won’t happen again.”

“I surely hope not! Otherwise what will I do with you?”

“Mama, I’m just throwing it out there. The pound. Think about it. They take in rabid animals. They don’t always euthanize them either. Sometimes they’re able to find them homes. It’d be a stretch for Rose, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Jackie, you stop. You two are enough to make the pope cuss.” She said this with no small amount of disappointment but something a little like amusement as well.

I grinned at Jackson, a grin between two siblings who knew they drove their poor mama crazy, our disagreement momentarily forgotten.

We dug into dinner after that and throughout the meal, I watched as Mama and Jackson interacted. These were my people. Through thick and thin, they were mine and my God, I loved them. I would do anything for them. Anything to keep them safe and ignorant of the danger they were always in.

Chapter Fifteen

It was rare that Duke’s wasn’t busy. For all the negative things that could be said about Joshua, the one absolute positive you could give him was that he was a complete genius when it came to all things business. Duke’s, as well as Bar 9 to a lesser degree, was proof of that.

I pushed past a tight knot of college-aged boys clumped together near the bar, pointedly ignoring their protests at having been cut in line to get a drink. Clearly their mamas had never taught them anything about ladies being first. I signaled to Annie Vincent, the bartender who’d been hired once upon a time to replace me, to get Jackson’s attention at the far end of the bar where the crowd was the thickest. She nodded, letting me know that she understood, and hurried to finish the order she was filling before heading down that way and tapping him on the shoulder, nodding down to where I stood as she slipped in front of him to swap spots. A second later, he was standing in front of me, the ghost of a scowl flirting with his features.

“‘Sup? You ordering something? If not, move over so I can serve the pissy-looking dudes behind you who you no doubt offended. I got money to make.”

I frowned but said nothing as I took a step to the left, letting the guys I’d shoved past fill in the space I’d been occupying. Once he’d finished with them, he turned his attention back to me with the hint of an impatient air.

“You here for the books? Because you could have just grabbed them, you know. The office is unlocked. Even if it wasn’t, you’ve got a key, don’t you?”

“That’s not why I’m here. Well, it is,” I corrected with a frown. “But that’s not why I’m here talking to you.”

His expression barely changed as he raised his eyebrows, indicating I could continue. I glanced quickly around to ensure that no one was listening to us before I lowered my voice.

“Chill with the bottle swiping, okay? People are starting to catch on.”

He gave no outward reaction other than to say, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I played it off, but I doubt that will keep working. You’re not slick, Jackson. At least not as slick as you think you are.”

“Sure I am. Who’s people, anyway? Just random people? Jared? Mike? Miranda concerned because I’m getting free booze and she’s not?” He grinned suddenly, a flash of a smile that did little more than twist his face into someone I didn’t quite know. “Or is it Joshua?”

He looked slightly amused as he leaned his elbows against the bar and stared at me, his blue eyes dancing with it. He looked almost like the old Jackson as the lights backlit him, casting his face in just enough shadow that if I squinted, I could nearly convince myself it was him. Except not quite. There was something just off enough about the whole thing that I couldn’t ignore it. It was almost cruel in its similarities, because it was my Jackson but it also wasn’t. It was Mr. Hyde, wearing Dr. Jekyll’s face.

I shook my head, attempting to rid it of those thoughts.

“Just knock it off, okay? I would have said something to you about it the other day, but I didn’t want Mama to overhear and worry about you more than she already does. Lord knows she doesn’t need any help in that department.”

His smile slipped just a little as he straightened up and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m not the one Mama needs to be worrying after. I’m a big boy.”

“God, Jackson, you think that matters? Of course she worries about you. She always has. She probably always will. That’s just what she does. What she’s always done. So just cut it out, okay? Because if you got into trouble, it’d probably kill her and that’s something really stupid to get into trouble over anyway.”

“Seriously? Joshua would begrudge me a bottle here and there? He’d really take me to town for that?”

That boy didn’t know the half of it.

I nodded firmly.

He sighed and held his hands up in front of him in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. It’s done. Consider it done.”

I eyed him for a minute, waiting for the punch line, because it seemed too easy. When one didn’t come, I reached out before he could stop me and pushed a stubborn curl off his forehead.

“Good. Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. I gotta get back to work now.” He gave me a pointed look. “You know, just another little person slaving away in the kingdom. But at least one of us gets to enjoy the fruits of our labor, right?”

If I’d still had the lock of hair in my hand, I probably would have pulled it.

“Sure. You do that. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Looking forward to it.”

And with that, he turned away, moving down to a group of waiting customers. I watched him for a minute, taking in the way his interactions with them seemed stiffer than they once had, almost unnatural. As if he was having to put forth effort to carry on any kind of conversation. If the girls noticed how hard he was having to work to come across as charming, they didn’t show it. They erupted in a fit of giggles, eyes locked on him the entire time, and his replying smirk was strained, as though he was forcing it there.

God
,
Jackson.
What’s broken inside you?

I turned, weaving through the mismatched tables and chairs toward the back where I spied Jared standing by the stairs that led up to Bar 9. He nodded when he noticed me approaching, the universal acknowledgment for those on the inside.

“I’m heading over to Molly’s after this,” I told him in a low voice once I was close enough for him to hear. “I don’t expect any kind of trouble, but Joshua asked me to give you a heads-up just in case.”

“Phone will be on.” He was a man of few words, Jared. Took his orders and executed them without much need for conversation. It was probably why Joshua was so fond of him. A giant of a man who obeyed without fuss. I never quite figured out what it was that landed Jared in bed with Joshua, but I always kinda assumed it was a situation similar to mine. A family to take care of, maybe. Paying off a debt for a loved one. He seemed like the type for reasons I wasn’t entirely sure of. Maybe I just liked picturing it that way because it made him seem more likeable. Not a Rice who jumped at the chance to be something bigger than he was and spent his time attempting, desperately, to claw his way up into the innermost circle.

“Good deal.”

I moved past him and opened the door to the office, flipping on the light and crossing over to the desk where the books for Duke’s were. Bar 9’s weren’t there, which meant they weren’t ready to be checked over yet, a fact that would have Joshua irritable if he were to find out. I sighed and pushed the hair off of my forehead, wondering, not for the first time, why these people couldn’t make my life any easier considering theirs were so uncomplicated.

I was halfway to the front door when something caught my eye. My heart stuttered at the sight of the back of the brown head, the collar of the leather jacket beneath it pulled up high in what could only be considered his signature look. Though there were several feet between them and Jackson’s attentions were elsewhere, something about the way Brandon’s body was angled toward him gave me the impression that Jackson had at least served him the beer he was currently raising to his lips. The way his eyes tracked his movements, as if he was waiting for Jackson to finish what he was doing, made me wonder if they’d been talking before. Had he been there the entire time and I just hadn’t noticed? Or had he slipped in when I was in the office? Was he here for me, knowing that I’d more than likely be somewhere on the Lane tonight and Duke’s was a good place to wait me out, that I’d eventually show up here for one reason or another, or was he just there?

I couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but the latter made the hands holding the brown book against my chest slick with sweat.

* * *

Compared to Duke’s, Molly’s Pub was practically a ghost town, but there were customers, and, really, compared to Duke’s, most places on the Lane looked nearly empty on any given night.

Still, Charlie MacBain was grinning wide from behind the bar when I walked in, a smug smile that had me shaking my head before he’d even opened his mouth.

“As you can see, lass, business isn’t hurting a whip,” he announced, not bothering to keep his voice down, once I reached him. “Seems to me yer Mr. King isn’t nearly as powerful as ye tried warning me.”

“You’re a fool if you honestly believe that.”

“The proof’s in front of ye. Had as many customers as I’ve always had. Maybe even more than usual. Not quite what ye threatened me with, is it?”

“No. Not yet. But I also ordered the men away from your door. It’s not that Mr. King isn’t powerful, it’s that I’m kind.”

He scoffed.

“I’d hardly call ye kind, lass. Ye come into a man’s business on another man’s order and threaten him and his. Where I come from, we consider that being a bully.”

“This the same place that considers men like Joshua cowards? Because I’ve got to say, Mr. MacBain, if it is, I’d start disregarding what that place says. It’ll do nothing but get you into trouble. Trust me. The only reason your doors are currently open and you’re serving any overpriced ale at all is because I was feeling generous. You should feel pretty good about that, since I so rarely do.”

“Ye think highly of yerself, lass. Must get that from yer boss.”

“If I do, it’s because both he and I have good reason to. And you have every reason to sign with him. Did you speak with any of the other owners like I suggested?”

“Didn’t need to. I’ve heard enough about yer operation to know where I stand and to know I’m not scared of ye or yer Mr. King.”

I gritted my teeth at the repeated use of “your” in front of “Mr. King.”

“Then you really are a fool. Because you should be. If nothing else, you should be afraid of him. I’m telling you, Mr. MacBain, he’s not a man you want to cross. And while I have pull with him, I don’t have enough to get you or your family out of the hot water resisting him would land you all in. Just agree. It’ll be so much easier and so much better for everyone involved. Especially you.”

“My answer’s not changed, lass. Ye can tell yer Mr. King that Charlie MacBain does not climb in bed with the devil no matter the threat.”

“Because I’m kind, and generous, I won’t tell him that. You can thank me later.” He opened his mouth to reply but I continued before he could. “Do as I suggested before. Ask around. Be discreet about it, for God’s sake. Ask them what happens to those that resist Joshua King. In fact, I’ll even give you a name to ask about. Ask about Chase. He used to play the piano for Duke’s. Turned out to be a narc. See what the others say about it. You have exactly one week to continue your little rebellion. After that, if I don’t have your signature, well...” I shrugged. “Who knows what’ll happen, aye?”

“My mind won’t be changing and ye won’t be getting my signature on anything. I’d say I’d have the cops here to escort ye away when ye come back, but I’ve heard the whispers. Wouldn’t be getting much help if I contacted them, would I?”

I winked as I started to turn away from him.

“At least you’re starting to get there. One week, Mr. MacBain. I’ll see you then.”