Summary: Jax gives Kat a glimpse of his life in Charming while he comes to terms with what he's agreed to do.
Warnings: 18+ only; language; general themes of the show
Words: 3.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, apologies - I did have this queued to drop tonight at midnight but I did not take into consideration that tonight was the Mayans premiere so I am releasing it a little early. Enjoy!
Jax pulled out of the railyard, careful to keep an eye on the fancy SUV in his rearview mirror so he didn’t lose it in traffic on his way back to Charming. How in the hell did he get himself into this? Today was supposed to be about closure, shutting doors on a painful past. His gut twisted remembering why they were in Oakland to begin with. He’d spent so many years trying to get out of the claws of Damon Pope and with one careless act, they were right back in there, like it was all for nothing.
But in order to end the life of the man who killed his mother, he’d do it all over again.
Luckily, the club hadn’t held it against him, everyone voting to put up with Pope in whatever way was necessary to avenge their matriarch. No one cared that it was a wrong place, wrong time situation, they just needed blood, something Pope understood all too well. And the look on his face with Jax approached him, offering the services of the club again, well. It had haunted his dreams ever since.
Something he hadn’t expected, however, was the fear in Pope’s eyes when Kat said something about the potential sale of the rail yard. He knew that Pope did a lot of import and export from Oakland, able to keep the prying eyes away as the authority at the yard, but if that were to change and someone else set the rules and regulations? Yeah, he could understand how that would make his life difficult. Hell, it might even chase him out of Oakland all together, but he didn’t let himself ponder on that for too long, for the fear of it becoming hope.
By the time he pulled up to his house, he was actually looking forward to whatever it is he’s gotten himself into this weekend, even if it's just an opportunity to distance himself from the club for a few days. Being President usually doesn’t come with time off, but if it's the difference of being at the head of the table or in jail, then the guys were just going to have to figure it out for a weekend. He parked his bike in the usual spot, shutting it off and swinging a leg over, seeing his tail follow him right into the driveway. He slipped off his helmet, waiting for his companion for the weekend to exit her car. When she didn’t shut off the motor, he took a couple steps forward to see past the shine of the headlights. She was sitting completely still with a death grip on the steering wheel, her already big eyes even wider, staring at him unseeingly. He purposely came to the house instead of the clubhouse so as to not scare her but it seemed that she was freaking out anyway.
A part of him hoped that she would back out of the driveway and he’d never see her again, but then he would always be worried about that video floating around somewhere, coming back to bite him in the ass sometime down the road when he least expected it. Just like now, he thought ruefully. So he took a deep breath, slowly approaching the driver’s window, carefully knocking his rings against the glass. The way she jumped told him that he’d been right, that she was completely lost in her own head about agreeing to spend the weekend with a murderer.
Murderer.
The word wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but it still caused his thoughts to recoil, his blood to burn his veins in shame. After all the sacrifices, all the favors called in, all the changes made, he was still just a thug with a gun.
“Yeah?” she asked through the cracked window. He raised his eyebrow at the barely inch wide gap. Her eyes flicked down between them for a moment before she hung her head and rolled it the rest of the way down.
“I’m gunna go in, pack a bag and stuff. You can come in, if you want,” he tacked on, making sure she knew he didn’t expect her to wait in the driveway.
“Are you going to whack me?”
He should be offended, he should. But the question, laced with such an undertone of dry acceptance surprised a laugh out of him, her head shooting up to meet his eyes. “Darlin’, if I was going to,” he struggled to hold back his laugh, “whack you…I would have done it in Oakland, not brought you back to my house where’d I’d be the number one suspect.”
He watched her as she processed his words, following his logic before she nodded to herself, the window rolling up before she finally shut off the vehicle and climbed out. He couldn’t help but notice how nervous she looked, her eyes canvassing the neighborhood as she crossed his driveway. She’d said she was a realtor. He wasn’t familiar with the company, Irving Realty, but judging by her clothes and expensive car, he’d guess that they do pretty well. If she had a client interested in purchasing a railyard, he assumed she worked in the corporate market with some heavy hitters. As he turned the knob, he was surprised to feel a flutter of anxiety at what she would think of his little house.
It wasn’t much, but with it being just him, he didn’t need it to be. It seemed he spent more nights at the clubhouse anyway, only stopping in here to grab a change of clothes and make sure the place hadn’t been ransacked.
He watched as she took it in, his small but functional eat-in kitchen off a plushly carpeted formal dining. Where she’d stopped just inside the door allowed her to see into the living and down the hall to the bedrooms. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was tidy as Jax prided himself on keeping his home presentable. “This is nice,” she blurted out, shock clear on her face.
Even if unintended, the compliment eased something inside of him, but he wasn’t going to let her off that easily. He turned towards her, leaning against the kitchen counter with his hands on the ledge behind him. “What were you expecting?”
“Laundry and dirty dishes,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe a dead hooker or two. But this,” she looked around, completely missing the way he bristled, “this has a woman’s touch.” Her words were like a knife to his gut. Just because they finally got the guy responsible for Gemma’s death didn’t make her loss any easier to stomach. “Wait,” she said, spinning back to him, a level of alarm on her face that had his standing to attention, “Are you married?”
“What?” He practically choked on the word, his eyes going wide, causing her to back track.
“I mean,” she stumbled. “It’s just. It’s nice, tastefully done. Everything is complementary while still being interesting to the eye, the colors are warm and inviting, and while the decorations are sparse, they’re cohesive to the space.” His eyes trailed around the space as she pointed things out. He’d never really thought about any of that stuff. He’d let Gemma have free rein and then just kept up with it since. “I just expected…different, I guess?”
That left a sour taste in his mouth. “What? Crack pipes and used condoms? Maybe some roaches, a few holes in the wall?”
She cringed at his tone offering a light, “Sorry.”
He sighed, trying to remember that this woman knows nothing about him other than he’s a biker and a murderer. Hell, judging by her clothes and her ride, she’d probably never even been this far out of Beverly Hills before, let alone slummed it in a run down, two bedroom house in the middle of nowhere. Which led him to ask, “So where am I headed?”
“Excuse me?”
“This wedding. Where is it? What do I need to pack?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. She’s lucky that he just finished all his laundry. Granted, it wasn’t all put away, but it was at least clean.
“Oh, well, the wedding itself is in San Francisco.” He watched as she slipped her phone out, thumbing across the screen for a few minutes. “We have the kick off tonight, then tomorrow is ‘guys and gals on the green’ followed by the bachelor and bachelorette parties, then recovery and rehearsal dinner on Friday, the wedding on Saturday.”
His eyes and his worry grew bigger with each event she listed. Sure, he could swing being a guest at a wedding, shaking hands and smiling on cue, but how the hell was he supposed to rub elbows with a group of strangers all weekend? And what the hell was he going to wear to not stand out like a sore thumb? “Sounds like quite the soiree.” He gestured down his body to his white tee, baggy jeans, and white sneakers. “This is about all I’ve got in the closet, darlin’. A few flannels and a bit of leather, but I don’t think that’s going to cut it.”
He noted how her cheeks colored when her eyes followed his hand before snapping back to her phone. “Uh, um. Well, you can wear whatever you want but the wedding itself will be black tie.” She tapped on the screen of her phone a couple times. “But I have a friend in SanFran that we can pick up something for you to wear.”
He couldn’t help but be skeptical of her acceptance of his wardrobe. He wouldn’t exactly call himself a connoisseur of women’s fashion, but he knew quality leather. This woman’s shoes and purse probably cost as much as his Harley. “You’re sure?”
“Yea, Georgie has been a friend of the family for years, it won’t be any problem.”
“I mean about wearing what I want.”
She looked him over again, eyes lingering on his kutte. He thought he would feel judgment, but something else showed on her face. Appreciation, maybe? Either way, he found himself hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, his head falling back, watching her as her eyes caught on the heavy rings on his fingers before landing on his SAMCRO belt buckle, where her cheeks color again before she dropped her eyes. “Uh, yea. Yea. What you have on is good, er, fine,” she corrected.
Interesting, he thought. She seemed to wear her emotions on her face which should make this weekend a little easier for him at least.
“Have a seat, help yourself to anything in the fridge,” he said, turning to walk out of the room before stopping. “Do I have time for a shower?”
She shrugged without looking at the time on her phone. “Sure, I don’t mind being late. Actually,” she bit her lip and he waited, watching to see if she was actually going to ask her question. “Do you mind if I change? That way we can go straight there.”
He can’t stop the way his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Yea, sure. I have a spare room you can use, but there’s only the one bathroom.”
She waved him off. “That’s fine, I have everything I need in the car.”
“Do you need help carrying anything in?”
He tried not to be hurt by the surprise on her face, but the disappointment quickly turned into frustration when she asked. “Is it not safe?”
He sighed, rubbing both hands over his face. This weekend was not going to work if she was this scared and jumpy the whole time. Something told him that TJ wasn’t going to accept anything less than the full charade of a happy couple, sticking it to whoever this Jeffrey guy was, so he better lay it all on the line now. “Look. I know we didn’t start off on the best foot, but I promise, you don’t have to be scared of me.”
“I know,” she answered, but it was so quick that he knew it was perfunctory and not genuine.
“I’m not going to lie to you, there was a time not long ago where you would have been smart to be scared, but I’ve put that behind me. I’ve worked really hard to get my club on the straight and narrow,” he explained, taking the time to look her in the eye, making sure she was not only listening but hearing his words. “I am not going to do anything to hurt you.”
He stared at her intently, like he could force her to accept what he was saying with enough will power, but he still saw the hesitation in her eyes. There was something there deeper than the moment, a pain lingering from her past that was preventing her from fully trusting what he was telling her. He should be frustrated, but it only piqued his interest.
“Okay,” she finally answered quietly.
He nodded, throwing his thumb over his shoulder. “Spare room is down the hall, first door on the right. Like I said, make yourself at home, I won’t be long.” He doesn’t wait for her to answer, figuring it's on her now to make herself comfortable. Or leave. Either way, he heard the kitchen door open before he got to his bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he rubbed his hands down his face, finally alone for the first time today. He loved his brothers, loved his club, but sometimes he needed moments like this where someone wasn’t looking to him for answers, where they didn’t need him to solve their problems. He’d watched his old man fall at the gavel before picking it up himself, wishing they’d had more time together to dig the club out of the hole they’d dug themselves.
He knew he could get them there, he knew that with the plan they had made, the club could be free and clear, but that was before John Teller’s cancer diagnosis. With the life he lived fueled by cigarettes, liquor, and gasoline, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, but one day he was here and the next he was gone, Jax trying to fill a pair of shoes he hadn’t grown into yet. Then once he finally felt like he was making progress, making his dad proud, he lost his mother, the result of a situation gone bad, someone managing to hurt the club in the most painful way possible by leaving Jax an orphan and the club without their matriarch. Which led them right back into the slimy hands of Damon Pope, someone Jax hoped to never cross paths with again.
And now because of that, he had video evidence of him committing a murder hanging over his head.
He stripped off his shirt, tossing it on the bed next to the stacks of clean clothes before kicking off his sneakers. He’d just dropped his pants, standing from dragging his boxers to the floor when he heard the knob twist on his bedroom door.
“Oh my god,” Kat screeched, dropping her bag to cover her eyes. “Oh my god, I should - I should have knocked. I didn’t know if you meant my left or, or your left!”
Jax didn’t even bother trying to cover himself as he’s never been shy, so he put his hands on his hips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter because I said the door on the right.”
That caused her to drop her hands with a frown. “You said left,” she argued, now seemingly unconcerned with his nudity.
“Sweetheart, it’s my house. I think I know which side of the hallway the spare room is on.”
She squinted at him for a moment, like she’s trying to decide if he’s fucking with her or not before she suddenly seemed to remember his his nudity, eyes going up to the ceiling. “Yeah, okay. Yeah,” she said, bending down with her head still tilted back as she tried to pick her things up off the floor.
She wasn’t quite getting anything though so he took a step forward. “Here, let me –”
“Nope,” she said, putting her hand out, finally dropping her chin to look at the floor. “I got it.”
He stopped in his tracks, watching her as she fumbled, his arms crossed on his chest. He didn’t miss the blush rise on her cheeks or how she kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Everything good?”
She stood up then, balancing everything in her hands. “Yep, good, I’m just gunna –,” she trailed off backing into the hallway.
Jax couldn’t help but laugh as he swung the door shut. He’d been so focused on the club and then revenge that he hadn’t had time for anything else, no women around the clubhouse catching his eye enough to give up the precious moments when he was able to be alone, but he’d seen the interest in Kat’s eyes just now, the wistful look on her face when TJ was talking about him hanging on her arm at the wedding.
There was an echo of his own loneliness in Kat, the lengths she was willing to go not show up to the wedding alone. He understood that – the things you have to do to protect yourself. As he worked through his shower, he decided that he was going to do this for her as much as for himself this weekend. If there was some lame bastard there that broke her heart, well, he was going to make sure he regretted it.
With a towel around his waist, he started to pack his duffle, throwing in a few pairs of jeans, some shorts to sleep in, several t-shirts, some of his nicer flannels. He didn’t own a suit, but he did have one solid black button up shirt he could bring to slip on when they got to where they were going. He knew he was going to draw eyes when they got there, that they would sense he didn’t belong, but that didn’t mean he wanted to look like a schlub. He wished he’d thought to ask her what she was wearing for tonight.
He bit his lip before opening the door and crossing the hallway to knock on the spare room door. He heard something fumble and a soft curse so he said, “Hey, what are you wearing tonight? Just want to make sure I don’t stick out too much.”
He could hear her approach the door so he took a step back. She pulled the door open and squeaked, trying to slam it closed but he put out his arm stopping her. “I think we’re past that, yea?”
She wobbled her head side to side for a moment before it seemed like she agreed, finally letting go of the door with a resigned sigh. “I’m wearing this,” she said, gesturing down to a red shiny dress that hugged her body down to her knees, but not in a slutty kind of way. The women at the clubhouse wore clothing two sizes too small, leaving nothing to the imagination. This was made with quality fabric and looked like it had been tailored to her body. Every inch of it screamed money.
“Oh,” he said softly.
She looked at him in alarm. “Oh?” She glanced down at her dress, her hands smoothing down the front. “Is this not okay?”
“No, it’s - it’s not that,” he said, swallowing deeply. “It looks nice.”
Her head snapped back to his, her eyes searching his face, probably looking to see if he was making fun of her so he made sure to look as genuine as he felt. It took her a moment, her stare only slipping to his chest just once, but he finally saw a softness reach her eyes that he hadn’t seen yet and damn him if his heart didn’t thud in his chest when she said, “Thank you.”
“I don’t have a pair of pants that aren’t denim,” he admitted, looking down at her dress again.
He expected her to look down on him. Clearly she comes from money, a caliber of it that he will never know, and while this weekend was just a means to an end, he didn’t want to embarrass her in the process. Instead, she threw him for a loop by shrugging and saying, “That’s fine. I meant it when I said I want you to be comfortable. You’re not going to be there to impress anyone, just to make sure I don’t run for the door.”
Huh. Interesting. It seemed there were going to be different strategies at play this weekend, so with a nod, he steps back to his room and gets dressed before finishing his packing, throwing in a few extra things he might need before calling Chibs and letting him know that he would be unavailable until Monday.
I can just imagine here the whole time in the beginning being like this
And just progressively gotten better the rest of the way. 😂 though, I really love Jax’s internalization. I love him touching up on why he was there in the first place how things have been changing in the club and how he was trying to do things for the better. Also, her staying in her car, just waiting and nervous as heck, scared even, brilliant scene. Watch too many crime documentaries but Jax saying once upon time he would have done it, not now. ALSO. Him saying he wouldn’t do it in his house where he would the the number one suspect had me cackling. I kind of love the situation they’re in. It’s like they’re in the same space and Jax understands what she’s going through in some ways. Her insistence for him to be comfortable is quite a nice touch as well. They both have expectations of one another, yet they surprise the other with how the other reacts.
Their run in in the bathroom?!
Toooo fucking good. Lmao I can just see the infamous Jax Teller smirk. You know I always wondered could a club president be MIA for an extended amount of days. Guess we’re about to find out the tomfoolery that’s going to happen.
YN and EZ have been best friends since middle school. She’s stuck by his side through thick and thin, even when she’s going through her mess of a life and he abandons her for Emily. Then one day, she meets and bewitches the husband of the woman she hates the most, Miguel Galindo. Now YN finds herself effectively taking the attention from not one, but both men smitten with Emily. So does she choose her childhood best friend who was too afraid to voice his true feelings or does she chose the devil that wasn’t hesitant about expressing his feelings towards her?
Marcus coming to his dads house for the weekend, and getting on babysitting duty first thingg omg😂
anyways how’s my fav writer doing💞
Happy Mother’s Day to all the amazing mommies out there💞! I got to this ask at the perfect time. Bare with me as I take you on this cute and fluffy ride.
I’m doing okay. Just glad to find the energy and inspiration to write. I hope you’re doing well, love!
If you missed any other ask about dad!rio or hubby!rio, they're all listed on my Masterlist under Rio Asks/Headcanons (in order). Enjoy my lovelies! Feel free to love, comment, and share🥰.
“Rio’s Mini-Me: Like Father, Like Son”
You rolled over groggily and a bit panicked. Still half asleep and disoriented, your hand fumbled along the bedside table. Hands bumping against your phone screen, you peeked to look at the time.
“Shit,” you whispered as you flung the covers away and rose from the bed. You stumbled a bit as your hands sought out your fluffy robe. Feet shuffling into your slippers, you bolted into the hallway, heading down the hall to take the stairs to the kitchen.
“Girls! I hope you’re up and getting ready. I’ll try to make you a quick breakfast.”
I have to get my shit together. I’m making my babies late for school.
You bounded into the kitchen, still feeling a bit sluggish and exhausted. Entering the room, you noticed a shirtless Rio with gray sweatpants hanging low. He was cooking bacon, eggs, and waffles, which made the imagery ten times better. Your husband turned toward you, smiling that perfect crooked smile of his.
“Morning, Mama. Slow it down. I got breakfast.”
He turned the burner down a bit and walked over to you. His arms circled your waist, pulling you to him. Rio’s lips found yours, and he offered a good morning kiss that you graciously accepted.
“Thank you, baby. I’ll make sure the kids are just about ready.”
Rio chuckled as his head nodded toward the living room. There were your sweet babies, eyes glued to the television, watching The Casagrandes.
“Mama, your a bit confused. Your alarm didn’t go off because you slept through it. Today is Saturday.”
“Well, shit. I still have an alarm set to get up and make everyone breakfast.”
“Yeah, I turned that shit off. Daddy got it. You need more rest, mama. Go back to bed. They’ll be okay. I’m working from home today. Are you hungry? I’ll bring you a plate upstairs. Go, darlin’.”
“Fine, bossy,” you teased, kissing his cheek.
Turning toward the living room, you walked toward your babies. Rio cleared his throat.
“I’m going, baby. Let me kiss my children, drill sergeant.”
“Only thing I’m drilling around here is that p-.”
“Rio!”
He bit his lip, smirking, “What? I wasn’t going to finish the sentence. They not even paying attention to us anyway.”
“You’re out of pocket. Calm your thirsty behind down,” you rolled your eyes, bending down, kissing each child.
Your face lit up as your son, sitting in his big sister’s lap, grabbed your face. The cute little munchkin pulled you in for extra kisses. He covered your face with wet, drool-filled smooches as the girls giggled and cooed.
Halfway out of the kitchen, you turned back to Rio.
“Isn’t Marcus coming today? I need to prep his room. Got to make sure these little rugrats haven’t been messing with big brother’s things. He needs fresh sheets and a thicker comforter. It’s starting to get colder at night. I got to get my oldest baby boy right.”
“Mama, he won’t be here until the afternoon. There is plenty of time to do all that. Go back upstairs and get comfortable, and I’ll bring your food as soon as I get the kids situated.”
Rio could always sense when you were feeling drained and needed rest. The two of you had eaten breakfast in bed together, leaving your oldest in charge. Rio went back downstairs to clean up the kids and kitchen afterward. He insisted that you stay in bed and try to take a nap. Your husband had instructed the children not to disturb you. However, once he noticed the crew was getting cranky, Rio allowed them to come cuddle and nap with you.
Your husband returned to the living room after putting the kids down. He straightened up to take some of the load off your shoulders. He showered afterward, changed into his outfit for the day, and headed to his home office to make several business calls and check in with his right-hand man.
The kids had awakened an hour before you, going off to do their own thing. Your oldest had taken baby brother to Rio’s office and placed him in his play area. She had made sure to let her father know to call on her if he needed any help.
You had slept peacefully until a bout of nausea reared its ugly head. Your eyes snapped open as you swallowed hard, trying to resist the urge to empty the contents of your stomach. Realizing that you were about to lose the battle, you sprang from the bed, bolting toward the bathroom. It was like this man had mind-reading capabilities. Seconds after kneeling and huddling over the toilet, you felt Rio pull your hair back. His hands rubbed your back.
“I’m here, mama. I got you.”
When you finally came up for air, you wiped your mouth with toilet paper, dumping it inside and flushing. Rio’s hand reached out to help you up from the floor, but you shook your head, “No.”
“I just need to sit here for a minute.”
Rio nodded, understanding what you needed. He walked over to the sink and ran a washcloth under warm water. Squeezing out the excess water, Rio bent down to you, wiping your face. Folding the rag, he pressed it against your forehead.
“Hold that for me, baby,” he said about the cloth.
Rio wrapped your free arm around his neck and scooped you from the floor. He carried you over to the bathroom counter, sitting you on it. Rio took the lukewarm rag and tossed it into the hamper. Prepping your toothbrush, he handed it over.
“Thank you, papa,” you whispered.
“It ain’t nothin’, mama. Go ahead and do your thang so I can put you back to bed.”
Finishing up, Rio scooped you from the counter. You protested on the walk over to the bed.
“I need to get my to-do list done, papa.”
“Sleeping for another hour will leave you enough time to do what you need. It ain’t up for debate, sweetheart.”
Not wanting to argue, you did as he asked. Two hours later, you showered and threw on some sweats. You raced to start dinner and straighten Marcus’ room.
Shit, I need to clean the living room and the kitchen. It’s probably a mess. Fuckin’ Rio and his demanding ass. Go to sleep, this. Take a nap, that. I doubt I’ll have time to get it all done.
You were shocked to see the kitchen and living room were clean. Well, excuse the hell out of me. Okay, husband. I see someone’s trying to get some tonight. The girls were watching a movie in the living room. You left them to their own devices, deciding it would be the perfect time to get Marcus’ room straightened. You entered his bedroom and gasped in shock. The room was in tip-top shape, with everything in its rightful place.
You happily crept toward Rio’s office. The door was open, and you stood inside the frame, staring at your handsome husband. He was talking in an authoritative, boss-ass tone that you loved. His eyes connected with yours as a sense of need fell over you. Forgetting he was on a call, you sped over to him, climbed into his lap, and drowned his face in kisses. You ground against his lap, muttering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, baby,” between kisses. Rio smiled into your kisses as his hands trailed down your back, stopping at the top of your behind. Your tongue snaked inside his mouth as you dominated the searing kiss. Rio’s hands cupped your round globes, grinding you against his lap again. He remembered the Zoom call and pulled back from your lips. There was that sexy smirk again, playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Mama, I’m on a Zoom call,” he sexily rasped, grinding against you one final time. His hands squeezed your backside some more as he chuckled at the expression on your beautiful face.
“Sorry, papa,” you replied, a little embarrassed.
“You straight, mama. Take a look. I bet you won’t mind once you see who it is.”
Your eyes made contact with his three little minions. Annie and Ruby didn’t mind the show as they sat there smiling. Beth, however, looked a bit salty.
“Papa, red’s big mad. I think she may have a little crush on you. Somebody should remind her. That isn’t good for her health. I don’t want to have to pistol whip a bitch for even entertaining such a reckless thought. You should remind her not to play with her life like that, ladies.”
Rio wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you in for another steamy kiss.
“That’s my little rider. Keep them bitches on their toes, mama.”
Beth felt Annie and Ruby shove their elbows into her side, and she started to apologize. She was cut off by the doorbell sounding in the background.
“I ordered takeout for dinner, and Rhea said she and little man are on the way. They should be here in a few minutes.”
You pecked his lips and started to get up, only to be pulled back down by Rio.
“Mick’s got it. He’s been in the garage handling some things. He promised to get the food and get the girls settled. I thought the baby boy would be kicking it in here with his pops most of the day, but the girls came and kidnapped him for movie night. Uncle Mick’s been keeping an eye on him. The last time we let them watch over their baby brother, they had my man causing havoc all over the house.”
You giggled and started to reply to your husband but were interrupted by nosey-ass Beth.
“Um, excuse me, are we going to finish this meeting? I have a family to get to as well.”
Annie and Ruby looked at her dumbfounded.
“That ain’t got shit to do with me. You're on my time, Elizabeth. Mama, why is she playing like you won’t shoot her for sport?”
“N-no. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just figured you two had plans to get to. Please don’t let us hold you up.”
“Just be there on time tomorrow. Bring me all my shit, too. You walkin’ a fine line, Elizabeth.”
With that, he ended the call.
“Now, where were we? I think you were thanking me. What I do?”
“You know what you did. Baby, I could’ve handled all of that.”
“Mama, you’re worn out. You needed the day to rest. We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves. I handled your to-do list. I can pull the weight around here and get my work done too. I need you to work on relinquishing some control around here. We’re a team. You needed to put yourself first today.”
“The business is stressful enough, and raising these rugrats is a lot of work. I can hold down the homefront while you get that money, papa.”
“Naw, mama. Parenting is fifty-fifty around here.”
“That’s not what I’m saying, Rio.”
“I know what you mean, darlin’. You need to stop trying to be a super mom. Let Daddy take care of his biggest baby,” he teased.
“You haven't eaten since breakfast. Since you got sick, there isn't much in your system. I ordered pizza but also had some soup delivered as well. I figured your stomach may not be able to handle something so heavy right now.”
“Damn, I love you.”
“Love you, too. Let’s eat before those hungry ass kids eat up everything.”
Just as you exited the office, the front door swung open. Marcus bounced into the house, Rhea trailing behind him, shaking her head. She scolded him for not knocking first, but you and Rio said it was fine. After all, this was also his home. Rhea couldn’t help but smile as Marcus lit up around you and his dad. She loved the bond the two of you had.
“My oldest baby has returned. Give your bonus ma some sugar,” you cooed.”
You all laughed as you tackled him with kisses. Rio hugged his son, kissing the top of his head.
“Where’s the gang, Daddy?”
“They're sitting down to have dinner. We got your favorite pizza joint. Go help yourself, little man.”
Marcus hugged and kissed his mom goodbye, speeding off to the kitchen. You invited Rhea to stay for dinner, but she had dinner plans with some girlfriends. Seeing Rhea off, you and Rio joined the children at the dinner table. You were all overjoyed to spend much-needed quality time with Marcus. His sisters were talking his ear off, asking a multitude of questions.
Being a man that sees and hears all, Rio frowned as he noticed you only ate half of your soup. Pushing away from the table, you collected the dirty dishes to wash them up.
“Hand those over, mama. We’ll clean this up. Right, munchkins?”
Rio beamed with pride as all the children agreed.
“Fine, I’ll get the baby cleaned up.”
Marcus and his father made eye contact, giving each other a nod. Your sweet boy beat you to the punch, scooping his little brother out of his highchair. The baby bounced with excitement, clapping his hands.
“I can get him cleaned up, ma. You should go relax on the couch and watch some television.”
“How did I get so lucky? I believe you’ve got your father’s charm,” you smiled, kissing his forehead.
“My boy gon’ have plenty of rizz with the ladies,” Rio joked.
“You got that right, pops.”
You cleared your throat, and Marcus smirked, “Respectfully, of course.”
“Don’t let your father have you out here getting chased by these overprotective fathers.”
“If they know what’s good for them. They’ll know not to play with their life like that.”
Marcus chuckled as he cleaned his brother’s hands and face. He even made sure to wipe down his highchair. Rio finished the dishes and walked to the couch to check on you. He admired your features as you rested, lightly snoring on the sofa. Placing a kiss on your cheek, Rio covered you with a plush throw blanket.
Beautiful ass woman. I hope this nap gives her some energy. I’m trying to break her off tonight. This nausea cockblocking the hell out of me.
His eldest son and daughter helped to get everyone washed up and ready to chill for the rest of the night. It was Marcus’ turn to pick a movie. Making his decision, he popped it in, and they all huddled on the floor as you continued to rest on the couch. Rio joined as he gently picked up your head and rested it in his lap. His thumb swept back and forth across your cheek, lulling you back to sleep. With a kiss to your forehead, he whispered, “Sleep, mama,” and you were out like a light.
His gaze fell over the kids as he took in the loving sight of his children enjoying the movie and one another's company. The perfect moment was interrupted by a call. Mick informed him of a situation that needed his immediate attention. Marcus had turned back, watching his father grow irritated by the interference in his family time. He noticed the wheels turning in Rio’s head. Marcus could tell he was contemplating whether or not to disturb your sleep.
“Dad, go ahead. I can keep an eye on everyone. The baby is down for the night, and I know to listen for the baby monitor.”
“You sure, son? Ma would want to know.”
“I can let her know when she gets up. We’ll be good, pops. Trust me.” Marcus looked over at his sister. “We’re both here. I’m sure we can handle it.”
“Yes, Daddy. Everything will be fine. It’s not like we haven’t watched them before. Mom is right here. We’re just going to let her rest.”
Rio couldn’t help but feel proud and appreciative of his two oldest babies.
“Alright, but if you need me. Call me or wake your momma. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Rio kissed all of his children and headed out.
Thirty minutes passed, and your son's cries rang through the baby monitor. You popped up from the sofa and started for his room, but Marcus insisted he go for you.
“That’s okay, sugar. Ma’s got him,” you responded, ruffling his hair.
“Momma! I’m thirsty,” your baby girl whined.
“I’ll get it for you, baby sis. Come on,” Marcus answered, taking hold of her hand and directing her to the kitchen.
They argued on the way to the kitchen.
“You can’t have juice at this time of night.”
“Yeah, I can. Momma!”
“Listen to your brother,” you shouted, walking toward your son’s nursery.
Pushing the cracked door open, you padded over to your whimpering son. Scooping him up from his crib, you rubbed his back, soothing him.
“Aww, what’s wrong with mommy’s baby? Oh, sweet pea. Shhh, Mommy’s here.” You laid sweet kisses on the back of his head. “It’s about time to upgrade you to a big boy bed. What do you think?”
His head rested against your chest as you sat in the rocking chair, attempting to pat him back to sleep. The baby was still a bit fussy but had stopped crying for the most part. Rocking in the chair had proved to be a bad idea. The movement made you feel light-headed, and your nausea kicked into high gear. Fighting back the urge to gag, you tried placing the fussy baby back in his crib. He had other plans and kicked his feet, whining.
“Come on, baby. Can you lay down for Mommy?”
He cursed you in baby babbles. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed, fighting the urge to throw up. The baby rested against your frame, babbling, “Da-Da! Da-Da!”
“That’s a good question. Where did Daddy go?”
You wretched loudly, cupping your hand over your mouth. Rio was rubbing off on his eldest son. He not only was the spitting image of his father but possessed his instincts as well. Marcus must have sensed you needed assistance.
“Dad got called away on business. Sis and I told him we’d let you sleep and watch over everyone. Here, ma. Give me the baby. You look like you need a break. I’ll put him back to sleep,” he offered as he took his brother into his arms, kissing and rocking him.
You started to thank him but felt another wave of nausea. Throwing up a finger, you signaled you’d be right back. Your feet carried you to the bathroom quickly. Bursting into the room, you closed the door, locking it. For the second time that day, you emptied the contents of your stomach. You cleaned yourself up, brushing your teeth in a hurry.
As you stepped into the hallway, Marcus was cracking the door to the nursery. He turned to you, offering a look of sympathy.
“You good, ma?”
“Yes, baby. Thank you for putting your baby brother back to sleep.”
“No need to thank me. I don’t mind helping watch over my siblings. Big brothers always got their back. Anytime you need me. Just let me know, ma,” he explained.
Marcus hugged you tight and looked up at you.
“You’re almost taller than me. Stop growing up so fast,” you teased, pinching a cheek.
“I can’t help it if you short, ma,” he joked. “Daddy told me you haven’t been feeling well. You should lay back down on the couch. I started another movie for the girls. They’ll be asleep before they make it through the first half.”
Marcus held your hand, guiding you back into the living room. He watched you lay back down, kissed your cheek, and bought you a cup of peppermint tea from the kitchen.
“You are so your father’s child.”
He glanced at his sisters, making sure they weren’t listening. Leaning in to keep the conversation between you two, he whispered, “I made my mom plenty of peppermint tea when my little brother was in her stomach,” he finished with a knowing smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the secret, ma,” he whispered. Marcus hugged you and returned to his seat in front of the tv. You sat there, shocked by how intuitive your son was. Smiling, you pulled the throw blanket back over your body, drifting into slumber.
Hours later, you felt kisses trailing down your cheek and neck. Lips trailed to your ear, whispering, “Wake up, mama, Daddy’s home.”
Rio bit his lip as a moan sounded.
“Hey, papa. What time is it,” you asked sleepily.
“A quarter ‘til twelve.”
He laughed as your eyes doubled in size. Your head searched the room for the kids. Reading your mind, Rio answered, “Marcus got everyone to bed at their respective bedtimes, himself included. He called me before he went to bed. His little grown self called to tell me that everyone was asleep. Marcus checked the locks, enabled the alarm, and asked if he should tell you to get in bed.”
“That child is a blessing, baby. What did you say to the last question?”
Rio laughed, “He honestly is. I told him, that’s okay, little man. You know she’s stubborn and is probably waiting on me. Let my woman sleep. I’ll put her in bed when I get home. Then I told him I loved him and to get some rest. I hate that I had to leave, mama.”
“Rio, please don’t beat yourself up. The kids understand that work’s going to interfere from time to time. They know how much you love us. Don’t beat yourself up, baby.”
“How’s your tummy, love,” he asked, lifting your t-shirt and rubbing the soft skin.
He bent to trail kisses across your belly. Rio admired your small baby bump.
“Listen, I know we decided to wait until we enter the second trimester to tell the kids.”
“What happened? Did one of the girls bust in on you getting dressed and notice your bump,” Rio questioned, looking amused.
“No, thank goodness. Mama doesn’t get any privacy around here,” you rolled your eyes jokingly.
“Then wassup, mama? Why the change in plans?”
“Well, I mean. I’m still cool with waiting until the second trimester, but that’s a good little minute to keep a secret.”
“Your second trimester isn’t far off. You callin’ me a snitch, mama,” he asked, pretending to be offended.
“No, papa. Let’s just say your mini-me has your intuition.”
“Marcus knows you’re pregnant? How did he figure it out?”
“He pays attention and analyzes people like his daddy. Marcus noticed me feeling nauseated and stepped in. The baby was up fussing, asking for Da-Da.” Rio frowned at that. “His big brother took him and told me to take a break. I ran to that damn bathroom like I was a track star. That young man put his brother back to sleep, helped me get comfortable on the couch, and made me peppermint tea. He made plenty of it for his mom when she was pregnant. This little boy told me the secret was safe with him,” you snickered.
“My little G notices everything. Don’t worry, mama. I think he can handle keeping this a secret.”
“True. Markie-boo got it handled. You’re still breaking the news to the girls when it’s time.”
“I got you, love. I understand the finesse princess was making demands for juice.”
“How you know?”
“She called me and insisted I tell her brother she could have juice. We had a little chat, and she got her mind right. That’s your mini-me.”
“Um, no, sir. She gets that mess from you. You hate being told no.”
Rio shrugged his shoulders. “Back to the topic. Are you still feeling sick,” he asked, brushing a finger across your soft lip.
“I’m feeling better now that I slept the day away. To be honest, I’m a little hungry.”
“So am I, darlin’.”
“What do you want? Let’s DoorDash or Ubereats. I’m craving a brownie and ice cream with extra caramel sauce. Ooohh, and nuts!”
“I’ll get right on it, sweetheart,” he answered, pulling out his cell to order your dessert. “As far as my appetite goes. The only thing I have a taste for is my wife. You got pretty excited over those nuts. I got plenty nut for you, mama.”
“Why you always gotta make it dirty,” you sassed, rolling your eyes. “Horny ass.”
“Sorry, baby. Kiss me,” he responded, poking out his enticing lips.
Biting your lip, you shook your head no. “Unh-uh, If I kiss those tasty ass lips. I’ll forget about my dessert. Feed me first. Then I might give you some. We got any whip cream,” you asked in a seductive tone.
“That’s why your ass stays pregnant. Let me go check, though. Your dessert will be here shortly.”
Tagging some lovelies: @amorestevens , @fight-milk33 , @that-one-anxious-mango , @nubianiriva
Summary: Trying to avoid as many wedding week activities as possible, Kat finds herself taking a last minute job.
Warnings: 18+ only, murder, gun violence, general themes of the show
Words: 3.5k
There was trash everywhere. Nothing looked like it had seen soap in at least a decade and the air smelled faintly of death, which wasn’t surprising for a trainyard in Oakland. Kat pulled her jacket a little tighter, wobbling on her heels over the gravel while trying to keep her camera steady.
“Why does your dad even want this place if it’s such a shit hole?” her best friend, TJ, asked from the corner of her phone screen. It was pretty standard for Kat to facetime her when she was in a sketchy location looking at real estate, using the comfort of having someone else aware of the situation, even if they couldn't be there in person.
Kat carefully stepped over the tracks, moving farther away from the safety of her SUV. “Oh, you know Dad, always looking to make a deal.” That was an understatement and they both knew it. Donald Bren had enough money that it didn’t matter if he got a deal on what he wanted, he could buy it anyway. Kat just couldn’t understand why he wanted this place in particular.
“What I don’t get is,” TJ started, pausing to take a drag on her ever present cigarette, “in his stable of top of the class agents, why you’re the one that had to go. Especially with it being the wedding week and all.”
At that moment, Kat was thankful that TJ was not there in person and she had been able to angle the camera away from her face to hide her lie. “Dad needed someone he trusted on this one,” she said easily. The truth was, she volunteered, practically begging to have something, anything, to pull her away from the festivities that were kicking off her baby sister’s wedding. In a time not too long ago, she would have been ecstatic, thrilled, even, to spend this time with her family, but if things had worked out how she had planned them, she’d already be married herself and the best man would have been her husband instead of her good for nothing ex that wasted seven years of her life.
Not that she was bitter.
So, yeah, even a rusted out train station in the armpit of San Francisco sounded like a better place to be right then.
The wind off the bay was wreaking havoc on her hair, the red strands blowing against her face as she swatted at them, trying to keep them out of her eyes. “Hold on a sec, TJ, I’ve got to do something about my hair,” she said, setting her phone down on a shipping crate that looked like it’d seen better days, flipping the camera to front facing so she could see what she’s doing. She didn’t bother to stop recording, knowing she was going to have to go back and edit the footage before showing it to her father anyway.
While fixing her hair, she couldn’t help but compare herself to her best friend. Where TJ was all dark hair and tanned skin with curves in all the right places, Kat looks the same as she did when she was twelve years old, puberty completely passing her by without leaving so much as a pimple. Her pale skin remained unblemished but she’d started to notice the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes and the lines in her cheeks from her boardroom smile not quite disappearing anymore. Not that she was old, she reminded herself, it’s just that she thought she would be at a very different place before she began not to recognize the woman in the mirror.
TJ continued, completely oblivious to Kat’s scrutiny. “It’s kinda sad, you know, that you’re not bringing someone this weekend. I’d love to see the look on the dickwad’s face when you walked in with someone on your arm. Bonus points if he’s gorgeous.”
Kat laughed, knowing that she’s purposefully left no time in her life since her canceled engagement to even think about dating again. “That would be kinda funny,” she agreed, thinking of the look on their faces if she showed up with someone, no one expecting her to be anything but single and alone. This late in the game though, everyone she knows is either invited or unavailable and while she could resort to something like Tinder, who would want their first date to be at a wedding?
“Oh, I know,” TJ said, pointing her fingers at the camera. “Pick up a hooker while you're down there in the dumps.”
Kat barked a laugh, twisting her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth it out before securing it again. “Oh, yea. Great plan. I’m sure that would make Dad proud.”
“Well, I don’t know about your Dad, but it sure would get Jeffrey’s attention.”
That caused Kat to pause. Even two years later, she still wasn’t quite sure why Jeffrey broke her heart. They had everything going for them, so she thought. Both settled in their careers, a small but supportive group of friends, a planned wedding, until one day he walked in and said he couldn’t do it anymore and left. The echo of heartbreak rattled her chest, a feeling that would consume her if she let it, so changed the subject. “Maybe I’ll swing by Stockton, pick up some getting out and bring them with me.”
TJ howled on the other line. “That’s a great idea! I can already tell this wedding is going to be boring anyway, what better to make a scene than to show up with a criminal on your arm.”
As outlandish as the idea was, Kat considered it for just a moment. She’d managed to block the wedding out of her mind for so long, that she hadn’t even truly considered the ramifications of her showing up alone. How just two years ago, these people had been invited to her wedding that never happened. The realization that she was about to spend the weekend receiving nothing but looks of pity finally dawned her and for a split moment, she thought about tying herself to the train tracks.
“TJ,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ve got to find a date for this weekend.”
“Now we’re talking! Should I send you some of my Tinder matches?” Before Kat could respond to that, the loud sound of something that definitely wasn’t a train roared in her ears. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Kat said, turning to look behind her just as a group of black motorcycles pulled up a couple tracks over, followed by an SUV.
“Get down,” TJ shouted through the phone just before the bikes shut off. Kat dropped to the ground, pushing between the crates she’d used to prop her phone on, just now thinking that maybe she should have grabbed it.
“What’s happening,” she shout-whispered to TJ, hoping that the distant rumble of the trains moving through the yard covered her voice.
“They’re dragging someone out of the car. Looks like their hands are tied,” she narrated with an unusually quiet voice. TJ was never one for demonstrating any type of couth, keeping all aspects of her boisterous personality intact at every moment of her life. Kat could hear shouting, but with the rest of the noise of the yard and the constant wind, she couldn’t actually make out the words being said, just the anger behind them.
She peeked out around the edge of the crate, careful to keep the shoulders of her bright khaki coat obscured. “TJ, do you think it’s safe –,” she asked, just in time to watch a tied up man get shot in the head. She screamed, covering her mouth quickly, hoping that it would get mistaken for the whistle of a train, but it was no use. All eyes turned to her hiding spot, the man with the gun making eye contact with her before she had a chance to pull her head back.
“Crap, crap, crap,” she muttered, pressing her head against the weathered wood, squeezing her eyes closed, hoping that if she wished hard enough, she could be anywhere else than where she was at that exact moment. Yet again, the universe didn’t listen to her, adding another complication to her life when she heard the crunch of gravel.
They were getting closer and she didn’t know what to do. She was trapped in this nook, the only way out was into the band of bikers surely heading her way. As selfish as it was, she wished that TJ was with her, knowing that she would know exactly what to do, what to say in this situation, just like she does in the boardroom. Kat was perfectly content to sit back and let everyone else bicker over the details. She only worked so she had something to do. The Bren family didn’t want for anything, she grew up knowing that her children, her children’s children, and their children’s children would be set for life, so she didn’t feel the same drive that TJ did, coming up from nothing to earn her spot at Irving Realty, the company owned by Donald Bren, the biggest real estate barron in California.
The footsteps got closer and before she could think better of it, she shot up from her hiding spot, holding her hands up in clear view to show she’s unarmed. “Don’t shoot me,” she pleaded, her voice shaky with fear.
The man in front pointed his gun at her, but, thankfully, didn't pull the trigger. “Who are you?”
“I’m Kat, I’m a realtor.” Without thinking, she dropped her trembling hand, reaching for her business card, but when they all jostled, she put it back up in the air with a whimper.
The man in front dropped his gun, the other men following suit, allowing Kat to relax, if only minutely from not having a gun aimed at her anymore. Judging by the other men taking their cues from him, she guessed that he was in charge and now that her vision wasn’t pinpointed in panic, she noticed the patch that said ‘President’ on his chest.
“A realtor?” Everyone startled at the black man in the suit that had followed behind them. “What’s a realtor doing in the trainyard?”
Kat’s gaze flicked back to the man in front of the group, her hazel eyes meeting his bright blue. He may have just pointed a gun at her, but when he nodded for her to explain, something in her told her to trust him enough to do so. “I have a client interested in purchasing the yard, I was here looking around on their behalf,” she covered easily. They didn’t need to know that the client was her father.
“Purchasing the yard?” the man asked in a skeptical tone. She could tell he did not like that piece of information at all, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his suit jacket in a fit of unease. He leveled her with a look that reminded her of her Dad in the boardroom when something didn’t go his way, like a snake ready to strike, but whereas Donald Bren strikes like a King Cobra, this guy felt more like a rattlesnake. He may have the reputation and make a lot of noise, but he was not as deadly as he’s led himself to believe. “Tell whatever party is interested that the yard is not for sale.” He jutted his chin towards the man titled as President and said, “Take care of this,” before turning on his heel and walking back to his car.
No one moved until the car pulled away, then the men in front of her visibly relaxed.
“What’re we gonna do ‘bout this, Jackie boy?”
The thick accent shocked Kat enough to stay quiet.
“I’ll take care of her,” another guy said, raising his gun.
Kat froze in indecision. Throwing her hands up wouldn’t protect her and she doubted she could fall back into the safety of the containers before he could fire a shot, so instead, she stared down the barrel of a gun, waiting for the inevitable blast that would solve her conundrum, but it didn't come. The man in front struck down the weapon between one blink and the next, pointing it towards the ground.
“We don’t kill women,” he growled, his blue eyes sparking with fire. If Kat had doubted this man was in charge before, that doubt was gone now, watching how the curly haired man looked down in shame. “You guys get out of here, I’ll take care of this.”
“But Jackie –”
“Go,” he shouted, causing Kat to startle, the danger of the situation finally catching up with her as her breathing became rapid and shallow. She leaned against the crate, thinking how it almost became her headstone.
The man watched as the others left before turning on Kat. With his crew gone, she could see the exhaustion on his face, regret lining his eyes, and her initial fear returned. Do they really not kill women or is that just what he was telling his crew?
Before either of them could say anything, they heard a little electronic voice behind them. “Hey asshole,” TJ yelled, “Don’t you even think about laying a hand on my kitty Kat.” Both turned and looked at Kat’s phone, still propped against the crate where she had placed it to fix her hair.
“TJ, have you been watching the whole time?” Kat blurted, wondering how she’d managed to stay quiet during everything.
“Yep, and I’ve screen recorded everything so if he harms a single hair on your head, I’ll have the cops on him before he can get his delicious ass back on that bike.”
“TJ!” Kat shouted, rolling her eyes at how inappropriate her friend was being before she remembered the man in question had just, literally, shot someone in front of her moments before. She shifted her eyes back to the guy nervously. “Let’s not threaten the nice murderer,” her eyes widened when she realized what she said. “I mean, criminal, I mean, man, I mean,” she stuttered, finally dropping her head in defeat and clamping her lips over her teeth.
“Why not? I’ve got all the evidence right here, backed up into the cloud,” she said, the cockiness clear in her voice, knowing there’s literally nothing the guy can do about it. Which was great for TJ, but Kat was the one neck deep in danger.
“Look,” he said, holding up his hands, Kat just noticing the leather gloves. These guys are professionals, she thought, they knew enough to protect their prints. “What can we do to make this go away?”
“Go away?” Kat asked in shock. “You just killed someone.” How was she supposed to just go on with her life, having witnessed a murder? She opened her mouth to continue but the shadow that crossed his face at the reminder of what he just did gave her pause. This was not the face of a man who’s killed for pleasure or maybe even for purpose. She doesn’t know why he had to pull that trigger but something told her there’s a bigger picture here. Something on his face told her that man deserved it. She couldn’t begin to fathom something that would ever make her want to take someone else’s life, but judging by the pain in this man’s eyes, he didn’t want to do what he did and that makes her feel a little better. “Who was that guy?” she asked quietly.
For a moment, he looked into her eyes and she saw nothing but torment and anguish, the toll of what he did weighing against his soul and he didn’t have the capital to cover it. Then he blinked, his mask falling back into place. “It doesn’t matter.” He wiped his hands across his face then up over his slicked back hair. His hair isn’t blowing around in the wind, Kat thought jealously. “The only way I’m going to be able to let you walk out of here is if you give me some guarantee that you won’t say anything. Either of you,” he tacked on, looking at her phone.
What could she possibly offer him to prove that she won’t say anything? Should she call up Irving’s legal department and ask them to draft a NDA? What kind of proof was he looking for?
“I have an idea.”
Kat spun towards her phone, liking the devious look in TJ’s eye even less than she had the tone of her voice. “TJ,” she said warningly.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” she said, not looking at Kat.
The outlaw glanced between her and the phone before focusing on TJ. “I’m listening.”
“If you take my friend, Kat, here to her sister’s wedding this weekend, I’ll delete the video.”
“What,” Kat squeaked the same time he said, “A wedding?”
“No, no, no, no,” Kat chanted before she actually started to think about it. Murdering aside, the man was gorgeous. His slick blonde hair with his blue eyes and a face many people in Hollywood would kill for. She couldn’t see under his baggy clothes but just judging by his defined forearms, she could tell he wouldn’t disappoint. But it’s the thought of the look on Jeffrey’s face when she showed up with him on her arm that got her ‘no’ to turn into a ‘maybe’. The relief about not turning up at the wedding alone had her landing on a resigned yes, realizing she was all in on TJ’s hairbrained plan before they even hammered out the details.
“Oh please,” TJ scoffed. “He’s going to be the hottest thing at that wedding, Kat, especially if he brings the gloves.”
Kat closed her eyes, sucking on her bottom lip, praying the ground would open up and swallow her as she felt the blood rush to her cheeks because TJ was right. The gloves were sexy.
“You want to parade me around at some wedding?” He asked incredulously. To be fair, he doesn’t sound opposed to the idea, more confused and apprehensive than anything. “And then you’ll delete the video?”
“You play nice with my friend here, and I’ll let you watch me delete it,” TJ said, the tiny screen doing nothing to diminish her ‘cat who ate the canary’ grin.
Kat cracked her eyes open, watching his face as he weighed his options, not believing it took a murder and blackmail for her to get a date to her sister’s wedding. For a moment, Kat thought the man was going to say, ‘fuck this’ and take back his rule about killing women, but then he looked up at her, his eyes studying her face. She was once again captured by his bright blue eyes and the sadness she could see in them, something telling her that this is a man looking for a way out. Before she could analyze that any further, his eyes dropped to the ground, staring at her toes then trailing up her body in a gaze so intense, it was almost as if she could feel it on her skin.
No man has ever looked at her like that before, not even her ex-fiance. She knew she was attractive, sure, but she does not have the kind of figure that men who look like him drool over. Just when she began to think maybe she was misinterpreting his look, TJ let out a wolf whistle, then said, “That’s settled then. See you soon, Kat, criminal,” before disconnecting the call.
Kat’s jaw dropped that TJ not only agreed to this on both of their behalf but also that she just ended the call and ripped away her safety net. “Uh, I’m, uh…look –,” Kat stuttered, waving her hand helplessly.
“Jax.”
“What?”
“My name is Jax.”
Her mouth worked for a moment before she managed a soft, “Oh.” Everyone had a name, she didn’t know why it shocked her so much to learn his.
The corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk, which did nothing to help how flustered Kat was. “I, uh. I know TJ is a lot, and you probably have, uh. Things. To do this weekend. I don’t uh,” she continued to fumble, barely able to meet his eyes, knowing the blush was bright on her cheeks.
“Look,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m this close to something I’ve been working on for a while now but none of it is going to work if that video gets out. I can make this weekend work if that’s what it takes.”
Kat nodded along, finally accepting that yeah, this was going to happen and that she may as well start making the best of it. “Work must be killer.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she tipped her head back, blowing out her cheeks. “You know what? Never mind. I, uh. I don’t know how you want to do this? I assume you need to pack a bag or something?” She tipped her head back down, unsure what she would see on his face after her slip up, but instead of looking offended, the smirk on his face had transformed into a full on grin.
“Yeah, I gotta swing by my place, pick up a few things. Won’t take long.”
Kat nodded, sending up a prayer that this wouldn’t be the biggest mistake of her life. “Lead the way.”
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