Jaded (7 page)

Jade hurried to the ladies’ room, ignoring the elderly attendant, who stood when she entered. She stared at her smudged lipstick, and in an angry gesture she swiped the remaining color off, smearing it across her cheek, leaving a red wake.

Angrily, she washed her hands and took a cloth towel from the attendant, then worked on her cheek to remove the red slash. Opening her purse, she quickly got to the repairs. As she put a final touch to her lips, Jade stopped her movement.

In the space of twenty-four hours her house of cards had begun to crumble around her. Townsend was dead, that cop who disturbed her on a very primal level shows up at her doorstep, Otis Thibodeaux’s rude assumptions, and now Mr. Hiro wanted to call her hand. A call she was blindsided by. For three years the man had not touched her; tonight he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She almost lost it when he unzipped his pants and set his small but burgeoning penis against her thigh, covering her mouth and forcing her hand to grasp him. It was the first time in eleven years she had touched a man like that. And the revulsion of doing so made her realize she hadn’t missed a thing.

Her stomach rolled and she fought the urge to vomit in the brass sink.

“Señorita?” the ancient attendant said.

Jade glanced at the old woman’s serene stare and smiled, and then looked back into the mirror. It didn’t lie. Her haunted face stared back.

“Estoy bien, gracias.”
She took the cool damp cloth the woman held out to her and pressed it against her cheeks. She wanted to go home, to get into her favorite pair of flannel PJs, and sleep for a week. Instead, she straightened her shoulders, dug for a few bills in her purse, and handed them to the attendant, then stalked out of the restroom.

Giving her dress a final readjustment before she entered the room, Jade looked up. The balcony used to seclude the musicians was empty, except—she narrowed her eyes—for the shadow of a man sitting quietly in the background. Probably management keeping an eye on the private rooms. Exhaling a deep breath, Jade stepped into the private dining room.

As she entered the room, Jade halted midstep, closing the door quickly behind her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Lying naked and spread-eagle on the linen tabletop among the margaritas and their
camarones
cocktail was Katsuo Hiro. His four-inch penis pointed to the ceiling.

She’d seen worse. “Mr. Hiro, I’m afraid I’m not as hungry as I thought. I’d like to return to the club.”

His dark eyes glittered, not in malice but mischief. He really was quite harmless. “Play geisha with me.”

Slowly, she shook her head and as one would speak to a child, she said, “I told you, no more geisha.”

Katsuo rolled over to his side and stroked himself, his eyes closed for a moment. Then he hissed in a breath, piercing her with a hard gaze. “I am not partial to begging for sex, Jade.” He snapped his fingers and thrust his hips at her. “That is your dinner, whether you’re hungry or not. You owe me for three years of patience.”

Having gained control, nonplussed Jade smiled and strode into the room, stopping at the edge of the table. “Come, my lovely Jade,” Hiro cajoled. “Open those beautiful lotus blossom lips, and wrap them around my samurai sword.”

If the situation wasn’t so lewd, she’d laugh. “I’m afraid, Mr. Hiro, you will have to find your lotus blossom lips elsewhere. I don’t give blow jobs on command, and not for any payment, imagined or otherwise. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll step out while you dress and we can finish—”

The door swung open. Jade cried out and whirled around. The server had been forbidden to enter, not even to knock.
No disturbances,
Mr. Hiro had mandated.

Jade’s eyes widened as they clashed with the owner of the ocean blue ones. The detective’s dark face scowled as he quickly surmised what was going on in the room.

“You almost had me believing you were as innocent as Snow White. Shame on me,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

“This is a private dinner, sir! I demand you leave at once,” Katsuo shrieked. He didn’t bother getting up from the table nor, at the very least, did he cover himself with a napkin. Not that he needed one; a cocktail napkin would have sufficed.

Jade kept her cool. “All is not always as it seems, Detective. Are you going to arrest me?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“And what would be the charge, dining with a naked man?”

“Sir, I demand at once you leave us to our privacy!” Hiro insisted.

Jase ignored Hiro’s demands and continued to hold Jade’s gaze. Jade quirked an eyebrow. The detective looked like he wanted to strangle her.

“You looked a little rattled a few minutes ago, are you all right?”

She doubted his concern. He was hoping to catch her red-handed. “I’m fine. Please leave us.”

Jase nodded. Then exited the room.

Hiro relaxed back down on the table, grabbed his receding erection, and wagged it at her. “Come, my sweet cherry blossom, open your mouth for
Papa-san.
”

Jade sighed and grabbed her margarita. She took a long sip and thought how much she’d enjoy a shot of Patrón. “Mr. Hiro, zip up, I’ll be waiting in the bar for you.”

Jade exited the room amid Mr. Hiro’s demands for her return. She wondered what she had done to make him think that after all these years she was his for the taking. Since Jack Morton took over two months ago, the status quo at Callahan’s had steadily gone downhill. It was time for the meeting he kept avoiding.

Jade slid onto a smooth leather-backed barstool, and immediately the bartender moved in front of her. “Señorita?
Qué te gustaria ordenar?”

“A new life?”

“Qué?”

“A shot of Patrón,
por favor,
and make it a double.”

Instantly, two shotglasses materialized in front of her.

She felt his energy long before he spoke. And very unlike what Katsuo’s presence did to her, a sudden heat emanated from inside of her, and the soft percussion of warm breath against her ear sent shivers coursing along her skin. She licked the salt on her hand, downed the shot, then sucked the lime wedge.

“I bet this happens once in a blue moon,” Jase said from behind her.

Jade turned in the seat, refusing to back away when he leaned into her. Where Katsuo couldn’t generate a reaction, Jase did, on many levels. Locking gazes with him, she licked her hand and threw back another shot.

When she sucked the lime, Jase smiled. “I had you pegged for Cristal all the way.”

“Champagne has its place, Detective, but not here, not tonight.”

“Then maybe some sake?”

“Hardly.”

Jase didn’t retaliate. For the small gift, she was grateful. She was tired of being on the defense with him.

“I was going to offer you a ride home.”

“I have a ride.” Not that she wanted it.

“Your date left.”

Jade shrugged. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Why do women have to be so stubborn?”

“Why do men not understand the word ‘no’?” Jade waved over to the bartender.
“Por favor,
a cab.”

“Of course, señorita.”

Jade moved a fifty-dollar bill across the bar, then slid off her chair on the opposite side of Jase. “Thanks, though, for the offer.”

She didn’t have to wait long. The cab pulled up and she slipped in, giving the driver the address.

The fact that the nosy detective followed her didn’t bother her. The fact that Katsuo Hiro expected sex from her didn’t bother her. Even the fact that Jack Morton had somehow conveyed to the members that sex was now a commodity didn’t really bother her, not as much as it should; she could deal with men. No, what bothered her was the fact that she was pretty damn sure she’d killed Andrew Townsend.

Several hours later, Jase watched Jade’s black BMW pull out of the back lot. As he hit the gas to pull up behind her, another car, a dark sedan, cut in front of him from across the street. Jase eased up on the gas and gave himself plenty of room behind Jade and the car following her. Since he already had her address he wasn’t worried about losing her, but his concern rose. The sedan was hot on her tail. He called in the plate to Dispatch.

A rental.

Twenty minutes later, Jade pulled into her garage and the car following her pulled right up into her driveway behind her. Jase had a clear shot of the driver as he exited. Otis Thibodeaux.

By the time Jase parked across the street, Thibodeaux was inside. Jase hurried out of his car across the street to her front porch. The town house was nice, in an upscale yuppy neighborhood of Santa Clara. Jase knew they ran about six hundred K; he’d almost bought one himself a few years back when he was snatching up real estate. He’d run a title search and see who owned it. If it were Jade, that would explain a lot. Managing a gentlemen’s club didn’t pay
that
well.

He stepped closer to the front door and listened. Nothing. He looked through the beveled glass, being careful not to be seen. He saw Jade start up a winding stairway, Otis was right behind her. Disgust welled in him. He’d read her all wrong. And aside from the fact that it appeared he had lost his knack for reading people, he was furious she was nothing more than a high-priced whore. There was a part of him that wanted the beautiful, classy lady to be more than what he knew she was. While he was sure she couldn’t have pulled off the hog-tieing murder of Townsend alone, she certainly could have been an accomplice.

He pressed his ear closer to the door and listened.

Jade turned and faced Otis, who had barged into her home. She never should have opened the door. “I’m sorry, I told you, I’m not this Ruby Leigh you keep saying I am.”

Otis moved a step closer to her. “Then tell me why you let me in, Ruby Leigh.”

Jade swallowed and lied. “I thought you were my twelve o’clock.”

Otis smiled, the gesture ugly. “It’s almost one.”

Jade shrugged, trying to play it off. “I lost track of time tonight, I’ve been—engaged.”

Otis moved another step closer. She backed up into the wall. “Well, since your twelve o’clock didn’t show up or left coz you weren’t here, I’ll be happy to take his place.”

Jade shook her head. “I’m sorry, all of my dates are screened. Maybe another time.” She moved past him toward the front door. Otis wasn’t taking no for an answer. He headed her off and steered her down the hallway into the living room.

“You always did think you was better than the rest of us. Where’s the pride in finding out your boyfriend got paid for screwing you?” He moved closer, pushing her against the wall.

The air thickened in her lungs. But she was adamant. “You have me confused with someone else.”

He slapped her across the mouth and grabbed her breasts, squeezing hard. Jade bit back a scream as her world went black. Fear clouded her senses. Her chest tightened. The overwhelming urge to flee overcame her. Otis’s hot, wet breath slammed against her cheek. “I’ve dreamed of these tits for years, Ruby Leigh.” His fingers bit deeper into her skin. “It was me who wanted you up at the house. Daddy stole you right out from under me.” He ground his hips against her, his erection jabbing into her hip bone. She swallowed hard, keeping her eyes squeezed shut.

Visions of Tina’s sweet smiling face sprung up in her mind. She stiffened to steel herself, forcing herself to face her fear of this man. Jade’s eyes flew open. “Please. Stop! I’m not your Ruby Leigh!” Adrenaline infused her with a burst of courage. She shoved off his bulk and stepped away from him into the hallway.

Otis wasn’t deterred; he followed her step for step. “You got something else I want, Ruby, and I’m not leaving here until you agree to give it to me.”

Jade shook her head, grasping for composure. She couldn’t cave now. She wouldn’t. Her life and the life of her sister hung on her remaining strong. “Please, Mr. Thibodeaux, Otis, I don’t know you. I don’t know who Ruby Leigh is. Please leave.”

“The colonel left you money, Ruby Leigh. He left you money for fucking him all those years. Now I want it. And you’re gonna give it to me.” He dug papers out of the breast pocket of his jacket. “Sign these and give me my money.”

Slapping the papers away from her, she moved down the hall toward the kitchen. She had a gun in the drawer near the sink. If she had to threaten him with it to get him out of her house, she would.

Otis picked the papers up from the floor and followed her into the kitchen. His eyes widened in surprise when he stared down the short barrel of the snub-nosed Colt Python she held in her hands. “I told you, Mr. Thibodeaux. I’m not Ruby Leigh. I’m Jade Devereaux. I was born and raised here in California, and if you don’t leave my house right now, I’m going to shoot you dead, then call the cops and tell them you broke into my house and I shot you in fear for my life.” She pulled the hammer back. “Now, you decide. Live or die.”

In a lightning-quick motion she never expected, Otis backhanded her across the face. The gun skittered across the granite floor. Then he slapped her hard in the mouth. Grabbing a hank of her hair, he pulled her face close to his. “I’m going to give you twenty-four hours, Ruby Leigh. Twenty-four hours to come to your senses. If you don’t, I go to the cops myself and tell them how you killed your mama then set her on fire.”

Jade gasped in shock. Her heart constricted so tightly she thought it would never resume normal function. She couldn’t breath. Blood drained from her face. Her cheeks chilled. With the violence of an earthquake, a hard shudder jolted through her body.

Otis smiled and thrust her from him. “I thought that might knock some sense into that trailer park head of yours.”

Jade grabbed the nearest thing she could find, a ceramic fruit bowl complete with fruit, and hurled it at Otis. She clipped him in the side of the head. “Get out of my house and don’t come around here again, you—
swamp rat!”

The minute her mother’s favorite term for the boys who came sniffing around the trailer left her mouth, Jade regretted it.