But I don't.
Because two things strike me at once.
The first being an attack of conscience. I might be a mean son of a bitch and a ruthless leader when warranted, but I don't ever renege on a promise. I owe him a favor, so he'll get it.
Second, it occurs to me I could indeed help Jayce's sister. She says she needs money and with a loan of funds, a repayment plan is in the cards. Add in the fact she's fucking gorgeous as hell, and well...
I have an excellent idea on how she could repay me.
A way that would not make Jayce happy at all.
Let's just call it a little bit of sweet revenge.
CHAPTER 2
Trista
I alternate between tugging the hem of my stretchy skirt down my legs and making sure my face stays angled in such a way that my fall of long bangs keeps my eye covered.
The bruise I'm hiding is hideous looking. I'm very self-conscious about it, and not because Jerico Jameson has to be the best-looking man I've ever seen in my life. The pictures I saw when I Googled him do not do him justice. There's no way I could have imagined his hair was actually so dark it was indeed black, or that his green eyes are so light I'd call them the color of bleached jade, but they're streaked with slivers of rust, which makes them beyond beautiful. And that face... so perfectly put together that he doesn't seem real.
But I'm not here for his looks.
I'm here for his money, and Jayce assured me Jerico has what I need.
"What kind of money are we talking about?" Jerico asks as he critically studies me.
"Twenty-five thousand," I say nervously.
"That's a lot of cash to ask of someone," he says pensively. "But I do owe Jayce a favor, and I happen to be wealthy."
"So you'll help me?" I ask, hope welling up in my chest. For the first time in days, I'm not burdened down with overwhelming fear.
"Maybe," he says as he leans forward in his chair, crossing his forearms on the desk. "Why do you need it?"
"Family emergency," I say quickly... maybe a little too quickly because it sounds like a lie.
Jerico's eyebrows draw inward as his gaze pierces straight through me. "You owe someone the money."
My eyes go wide with surprise, and I totally give myself away by stammering, "How could you possibly know that?"
He smiles at me like the cat that just ate the canary, because I just admitted it to him. I didn't want him to know because the details aren't his business. I just need the money and an agreement by a decent guy to let me pay it back when I'm able to sell my house. Jayce assured me Jerico was the man.
"That bruise beside your right eye that goes down into your cheekbone..." Jerico says, nodding at me. "You're not hiding it very well. When a woman is beaten and needs money, my first guess is someone's trying to let her know time is up and it's going to hurt if she doesn't pay. The other choice would have been an abused woman needing money to skip town on whatever douche is beating her, but you carry yourself with a little too much confidence for that."
Okay, so he has me sort of pegged, but he has no clue how weird this "loan shark" thing really is. He'd never believe the deep hole I've dug myself into, nor would he respect the circumstances that brought me here to beg for help.
"What was the original loan amount?" Jerico asks.
"Thirteen thousand dollars," I tell him.
I was loaned thirteen. Now, I owe twenty-five as payment plus interest. But I don't begrudge any of this because I needed that money and was willing to do anything to get it. The fact that the sale of my house fell through and I couldn't get the equity out to pay off the loan didn't really touch my lender's heart. He came after me and roughed me up good, imposing a final deadline I had better make or I would be hurt a lot worse.
I had four weeks to come up with the funds or my dead, bullet-riddled body would be put out in the Nevada desert for coyotes to tear apart. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I don't want to incur his wrath any further. I just want him out of my life.
I'm pinning my hopes on Jerico Jameson to bail me out, hoping he'll work out some type of reasonable payment plan. I'm assuming he's an honorable guy as Jayce seemed positive he'd give me the money with easy repayment terms and a much lower interest.
"What was the money for?" Jerico asks again. "And when do you need it by?"
"Like I said... family emergency." This was very much true, but he didn't need to know the details.
My six-year-old niece, who I help my mom care for, needed a heart-valve replacement. Since she's uninsured, the hospital wanted a deposit before they'd do the surgery. I was able to cash out twenty-seven thousand from my 401K plan, but I had to borrow the other thirteen. It came at a huge risk, but I figured I'd just sell my house, take the equity out of it--which wasn't much but would at least cover the loan payoff--and all would be fine. Except the people who were going to buy it backed out at the last second, so now I was up shit creek without a paddle.
Since Jerico has asked me twice what the money was for, I expect him to push the issue. Instead, he asks, "What are you offering in terms of repayment?"
I blink at him in surprise. He wants me to suggest something? "Um... well, I need twenty-five to pay off the loan within thirty days. I could maybe pay it back over five years with some interest, of course, for your trouble."
Jerico gives a bark of laughter, but his expression is not amused. "Miss Barnes, I'm not a bank. I don't make long-term loans. I'll give you the money... but at a twenty-two percent rate that would be due thirty days after I give you the money."
"Impossible," I whisper. My house was not going to sell, so I couldn't pay it back that fast. The reason the buyers had backed out was that the home inspection revealed there was major termite damage. It was going to cost thousands to fix it. The house was a no-go. "That puts me in the same exact situation I'm in now."
"That's my offer," he says softly. And the implication is "take it or leave it."
"Mr. Jameson," I say as I lean forward in my chair and try to push the tears back. "I really, really need your help. My brother saved your life. The favor I'm asking is not for the actual money, but a reasonable way I can repay it. I can't get that much money together in thirty days. Can't you please work something out with me that I can actually succeed at?"
He appraises me critically again. This time, he lets his gaze roam over my entire body as I sit in the chair opposite of him. When his eyes come back to mine, he says, "Are you willing to work off the debt?"
"Work off the debt?" I repeat skeptically. He owns a sex club after all.
"Yes. Here at The Wicked Horse," he explains.
This perks my interest because I happen to need a job, and I'm insanely curious about what happens inside of this place. I've always been adventurous that way. When Corinne was in the hospital for her heart-valve replacement, I had to miss work. My employers were not forgiving, and they gave my job away to the temp who had replaced me. I'd been there six years and had hardly missed work, but I asked for a week off and they fired me.
Assholes.
So I'm unemployed right now and could use a job. While my mom's paycheck helps cover half the expenses, it doesn't pay for everything and my meager savings are about exhausted.
Leaning forward in my chair, I ask, "What does that mean... work here?"
"You know what this club is?" he counters.
I nod. "A sex club."
"What would my job duties be?" I ask.
"They'd be whatever I tell you they were," he says.
A little taken aback, I wonder if I am mistaking that look in his eyes.
Sinister?
Lustful?
But I must be mistaken because he says, "For example, I might have you work the hostess stand in The Social Room, or tend the bar. This may seem shocking to you, but I might use you as a waitress who sells condoms and lube and such. Or it could be something as mundane as cleaning my apartment. Let's say you'd be my personal employee for whatever was needed."
/> This has potential. It is all stuff I can do, and none of what he listed bothers me in the slightest.
"There are a variety of other jobs that mainly involve cleaning and making the club look beautiful at all times," he adds on. "It's physical work."
"But I wouldn't be expected to have sex with anyone?" I ask cautiously, because while I like sex a whole hell of a lot, I'm not whoring myself out.
"I don't run a brothel, Miss Barnes," he drawls, and I can tell I've offended him.
"I'm sorry--"
He talks right over me to clarify. "I do not expect you to have sex with any of the members as part of your repayment of the loan."
"How much time is needed to pay you back the loan?" This sounds too easy.
"Four weeks. That's when your deadline is, right?"
"All you want is four weeks of work for twenty-five thousand dollars?" I ask incredulously. "Because I'm sorry... nothing in life is that easy."
Jerico cocks an eyebrow at me. "While I have no clue about your work ethic or any particular talents you may have, Miss Barnes, I'm requiring four weeks of work so that--for all intents and purposes--we have a legitimate deal. My granting you the favor I owe your brother isn't the money I'm giving you. As you said, it's the easy repayment plan that will wipe my debt clean with him."
Well, there you go. Now we're on the same page.
"One last thing," I say quickly. "I lost my job a few weeks ago, so I'm hunting for a new one. Would my hours here be evenings or day shifts? I just need to know how to narrow my search. Still have to pay my bills, you know?"
"Tell you what," Jerico says as he stands up and walks over to a cabinet on the adjacent wall to his desk. "I'll give you extra shifts at time and a half to add onto the front or back of your regular shifts. If you're working the condiment trays, you can make pretty good money in tips. More than enough to cover your bills, I'm sure."
My mind races through everything to make sure I haven't missed anything. I get twenty-five thousand for working at The Wicked Horse for a month. I don't have to have sex with the members. He'll give me extra work at overtime rate so I can pay my share of the living expenses. I can then walk away debt free and start my life over again, leaving these hellish weeks behind.
Sucking in a big breath, I let it out as I stand from my chair to face him. "Then I gratefully accept, Mr. Jameson."
His back is to me as he pulls a painting away from the wall to reveal a safe behind it. He looks over his shoulder at me briefly. "Let's just make it Jerico."
"Okay... Jerico," I agree.
Oddly, he opens the safe with a pull to the handle, indicating it's not locked. This surprises the hell out of me because he steps back holding a wad of cash in his hand. Jerico walks to me and without a word, he takes my wrist and turns my hand over so the palm is facing up.
My skin tingles from his touch, which is so disconcerting I stammer out, "You don't lock your safe?"
Jerico's eyebrow arches. "Who would dare steal from me?"
Good point. I know from Jayce that he was special ops military, which is where they met, then he created a company that did the same type of work on the civilian side. Jayce worked there with him for a few years, and Jayce isn't a man I'd mess with, so I'm assuming Jerico is the same or probably worse.
Without needing an answer from me, he starts counting out hundred dollar bills into my hand. I silently count out ten thousand. Surprisingly, it's not as large a stack as I thought it would be. The bills are brand new, crisp, and lay cleanly flat. The resulting stack is no thicker than an inch.
"What's this for?" I ask dumbfounded as I look up at him.
His thick-lashed fern-colored eyes are so brilliant this close that I'm almost mesmerized. He gives me a smile, the first one he's bestowed upon me since we met. "Take that to the loan shark and give it to him. Tell him he'll have the rest by the due date."
I open my mouth to question this, but he cuts me off by putting five more hundred dollar bills in my hand and saying, "That's your entrance fee back since you're not using the club tonight."
Caught completely off guard by his generosity, especially because this meeting started out so rocky, I overcompensate with my gratitude. "Thank you so much, Mr. Jameson... I mean, Jerico. I really didn't have five hundred to spare, but this was an emergency. I'm really grateful you're giving it back because I need it for bills, and--"
He holds his hand up to cut me off and nods down to the money. "Take that tonight. Don't wait."
"But why?"
"Because many sharks like to send their goons out again before the due date to impress upon people the importance of meeting the deadline. And I can't have you unable to work, now can I?"
I'm touched he thought enough to do that for me, but I'm in no way thinking that makes him a good guy. He just wants to keep me healthy so I can work off my debt to him.
I nod in understanding and finally close my hand around the stack of money in my hand. Raising my gaze, I ask Jerico, "When do you want me to start working?"
Turns out, Jerico wanted me to start working that night, although he said it would not count toward the thirty days I owed him. To be clearer, he really wanted to show me around the place because he told me it would be shocking to my system if I'd never been in a sex club before, and he didn't want me to look like a scared rabbit tomorrow when I had my first full shift.
I understood his logic, and I was even grateful for the head's-up.
I was not, however, prepared for the things I saw, even though I'm pretty openminded and liberal when it comes to sex.
I am by no means a prude, but as Jerico walked me through the various rooms, I was torn between watching with avid fascination and turning my face away with disgust. Some of the stuff was beautifully erotic. Some of the stuff turned my stomach.
Regardless, Jerico kept me there for two hours, taking the time to explain what people were doing and how the entire system of a sex club worked. From the tour, I was most surprised to learn that most people who came were couples who either liked the public nature of the club or wanted to swap partners. It was eye opening, but it was humiliating too, because there was a part of me that was greatly turned on. When I left, my panties were wet. For some reason, I felt Jerico knew that because his parting words were, "I hope you enjoyed the tour." I wasn't sure how in the hell I was supposed to work and be professional with that going on around me. In fact, I sneaked a peek at Jerico's crotch from time to time and he was totally without a hard-on, so there must be some way to make yourself immune to all this stuff.
Now it's just after midnight, and I'm exhausted. Yet before I can make my way to my house, where my mom and Corinne will already be sound asleep, I decide to go ahead and drop the ten thousand off to the asshole I made the mistake of doing business with.
I pull my car up to the aluminum-sided trailer that sits off the highway on a barren and dusty lot. I note with relief that the lights are on.
Trudging wearily up the steps, I take deep breaths so I remain calm. Two sharp raps on the door, and then it's opened.
And there before me stands my brother, Jayce.
The loan shark.
He doesn't invite me in, which is fine because I don't want to go in. Instead, I reach into my purse and hand him the stack of money--less the five hundred Jerico refunded me. "Here's ten of the twenty-five I owe you."
Jayce's hand shoots out to snatch the money from me, and he counts it out quickly. When he looks back to me, I wonder how this man fell so far. His eyes are perpetually bloodshot and there are busted capillaries around his nose and cheeks, which tells me his dependence on alcohol has probably destroyed his liver as well. He's now a con artist and a drug dealer as well as a small-time grifter. After Jayce got out of the military and went to work for Jerico, he made some pretty big money. Still, you'd never know it by the way he lives now.
As such, Jayce was the last person I turned to for help because I honestly didn't think he had it. I was elated when he said he could
give me the money, so I just assumed he'd saved it up and wasn't spending it.
Of course, the real shock was when he made it clear it was a loan with steep interest. God forbid the man would do something to help his niece out of the goodness of his heart.
I look past him into his dingy abode, sure the carpet and furniture are from the seventies. It's really old, and it smells that way too.
"Why only ten thousand?" he snaps at me.
"It's a good faith effort to show you I'll have the rest by your deadline."
"So Jerico is going to give you the money?" he asks with an amused smile.
"Yes," I tell him. "I've got to work at his club for thirty days, but then we're square."
Jayce looks at me like he doesn't believe me for a moment, but then ultimately shrugs his shoulders in acceptance. He didn't care how I got the money, just as long as he got repaid. Frankly, I'm surprised he gave up such a large favor to bail my ass out of hot water, but really... it benefits him. He got his money back, plus a hefty profit. I still can't believe the asshole made me borrow it as Corinne is his niece too. You'd think he'd want to help save her life, but he's sank so low in his assholish ways that he doesn't care about anyone, including himself.
"How did he act when you told him who you were?" Jayce asks.
"What do you mean?"
"What was his reaction? Surprised?"
"I guess," I say, trying to think back. I was so damn nervous I'm not sure. "He led me to his office to talk in private once I told him who I was."
"Did he say anything about me?"
"No."
"Did he hesitate to pay the favor he owes me?"
"Not at all," I assure him.
"Interesting," Jayce mumbles. He starts to back up so he can close the door, and he does this without looking back at me again.
Asshole.
My brother is a certifiable, living, breathing asshole.
In fact, most of my family are assholes. The man who sired Jayce and me ran off with another woman. My mom kept Jayce and raised him with me and my older sister, Danielle, but she's an asshole too. She left Corinne with me and Mom about six months ago, saying she was going on a short vacation, but she never came back. I suspect she knew Corinne was very sick with her heart condition, but didn't know what to do about it. Luckily, Mom and I got her right into a doctor who referred us to a cardiologist.