Take Me Deeper (17 page)

His brother was lounging in a chair that he'd pushed away from the neat little meeting table down the other end of the office.

“Relax. I was only twenty-five minutes tops, so you might want to take it down a notch,” Zane replied, keeping his voice as cool as Ms. Lily Hammond's. “Anyway, I was making sure Iris was okay. You have a problem with that?”

“I guess that all depends on what ‘making sure she's okay' entails.” Quinn's expression was belligerent, his eyes glittering with barely concealed temper. He was pissed. Again.

Zane ignored him. Shutting the door, he took a step toward Lily and stuck out his hand instead. “We haven't been introduced. I'm Zane Redmond.”

“And she's Attila the Hun,” Quinn said without a trace of humor. “Attila, this is my brother Zane.”

She gave Zane a slight smile, but didn't move or take his proffered hand. “Lily Hammond. But most people call me Duchess.”

Shrugging off the momentary awkwardness of standing there with his hand out like a tool, Zane shoved it back into his pocket instead. “Pleased to meet you, Duchess.”

Something like detached amusement danced in her eyes, though he couldn't imagine why. “A polite Redmond,” she murmured. “Amazing. We should give you a medal or something.”

“Stop flirting with my brother,” Quinn growled, shifting impatiently in his chair. “We've got more important shit to do.”

Duchess sent him a wintry glance. “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar, Quinn. Or haven't you learned that yet?”

Quinn stared back at her, his gaze baleful. “It's not flies I want to catch.”

Zane studied the pair of them curiously. There were undercurrents here, definite undercurrents. And judging by the expressions on the others' faces in the room, they were aware of them too.

Duchess gave a casual, elegant shrug. “Let's just ignore him for the moment. Zane, you won't know the rest of my team. This is Nora, Rhys, and West. You already met my sister Rose. She's currently doing reception duties.”

The Duchess team was as unlike the Duchess herself as the Lone Star hotel was to the clean, bright, professional offices they were now sitting in.

Nora was a small, curvaceous woman in a tank, dusty jeans, and boots, her long, honey-blond hair in a ponytail worn low at the nape of her neck. She wore a black cowboy hat pushed back on her head, and there was a very serviceable Colt on her hip. Sitting in the chair next to hers was Rhys, a big guy in the same uniform most of the others were wearing, jeans and a T-shirt. But while Nora gave Zane a friendly enough smile, the expression on Rhys's lean face was almost blank. He stared at Zane rather unnervingly, his dark eyes guarded in a way that reminded Zane weirdly of Iris's. West, by comparison, jerked his chin up by way of greeting and gave Zane a brief smile. He looked older than the rest of them, late thirties probably, his blond hair in a buzz-cut. Definitely a guy who'd seen some action from the looks of things, and probably of the military kind.

None of them was even remotely the same pencil-skirted, business type that Duchess was, and the contrast was, he had to admit, a little strange. Yet for some reason he found that comforting. He didn't know what Quinn was doing involving Duchess in this business with Iris, but at least her team looked like they knew what they were doing.

“Good to meet you,” Zane said, giving them all a nod in return. Then he glanced at Quinn. “I presume you're going to tell me what all of this has to do with Iris?”

“I see you get on with him about as well as Rush,” Duchess murmured. “Why am I not surprised?”

Quinn's gaze glittered with irritation, but he didn't look in her direction. “Because unfortunately Duchess knows the bail bond company that has Iris's bond. And if we can get them off her back, that's one less thing we have to deal with. Christ knows she doesn't need them
and
the cartel after her.”

Well, that made sense.

Zane flicked a look at Duchess, whose cool smile hadn't wavered. She looked as slim and delicate as a sapling. With a core of solid titanium.

“Quinn's been explaining why he needs my help,” she said. “And I have to say I'm considering making him beg.”

“Don't be a bitch,” Quinn growled. “This isn't about you and me.”

“Why, Quinn, I didn't realize you felt that way.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I'm touched.”

“Jesus, you two, get a room,” Nora said with the air of someone who'd seen this particular drama play out many times before. “Can we go now? Quinn isn't the only one with shit to do.”

“In a minute.” The sweet smile disappeared from Duchess's face, her expression now wholly professional. “Quinn was in the process of explaining exactly what's in it for us.”

Quinn sat back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “How about the sheer joy of doing something for someone else?”

“Yes, I'm quite the Samaritan,” Duchess said dryly. “Seriously. What's in it for us?”

Tension slowly gathered between Zane's shoulder blades, because it looked like the same argument he'd had with his brothers was going to play out here. Fuck, did no one want to do anyone a favor in this goddamn town? Just because it was the right thing to do? Did it all have to be quid pro quo and I'll-scratch-your-back-if-you-scratch-mine?

“First of all,” Zane said coolly, “you'd better tell me what's in it for Iris.”

Someone at the meeting table snickered as one of Duchess's perfect blond brows rose skyward. “Another cocky Redmond. What a surprise.” She gave him a look that had probably quelled lesser men. Luckily Zane wasn't a lesser man and remained determinedly unquelled. One narrow shoulder rose in an almost imperceptible shrug. “Okay, fine. We can get the Dallas agents off her back if I take on her bond, which they'll probably be glad to do, since they have more than enough on their plate at the moment.”

Zane held her gaze, stare for stare. “And that's a problem for you, how? Just means she'll owe the bail money to you instead of the agents in Dallas.”

“It's a problem for me when Quinn is suggesting I don't take her in.”

Of course. It would leave Duchess out of pocket, and if there was one thing a bail bond agency couldn't be if they wanted to remain solvent, it was out of pocket.

“Fine,” Zane said without missing a beat. “We'll buy her bond.”

“Hey,” Quinn snapped. “Who's fucking running this show? You or me?”

Duchess settled back against the desk and folded her arms, watching the pair of them with that same cool amusement. “Oh, excellent. I
do
like the theater.”

“Hell, it's better than
Cats,
that's for sure.” West's voice was as deep and gravelly as Quinn's, his expression as amused as his boss's.

Nora was grinning. “Nice to see other people arguing for a change,” she said with some satisfaction.

Rhys said nothing, only stared watchfully.

Impatience coiled inside Zane. This was ridiculous. Why should he have to stand here justifying helping Iris to all these people? It was like watching his father go on and on about how they had to stick together now that their mother was gone, all the while drinking himself into insensibility. Not giving a shit that Quinn was always angry all the time. Or that Rush spent every night in the local bar getting drunk and chasing tail. Or that his youngest son needed his father to be there for him, too busy drowning in bourbon to notice.

Not caring that the family he was so proud of was disintegrating around his ears while he did nothing.

They were just like him. Selfish.

“I don't give a shit who's running this,” he said to his highly irritated brother. “I'll even give you the fucking money if that's the issue. But it's not, because once we get the cartel handled, then—”

“The cartel?” Duchess interrupted, her voice suddenly sharp. “What cartel?”

“Oh, yeah,” Quinn drawled. “I forgot to tell you. She's being hunted by the cartel she was couriering for. That's why she's a skip. The DA was going to make her testify against them.”

For the first time since he'd walked into the office, Zane thought he caught a flicker of emotion cross Duchess's fine-boned face. “And now the cartel wants to get rid of her,” she said flatly, and it wasn't a question. “So why are you helping her, Quinn? What are you getting out of this? Because if I don't do anything for free, you sure as hell don't either.”

Quinn's jaw took on a stubborn cast, the glitter in his eyes becoming dangerous. “I'm doing it for my brother. What's your fucking excuse?”

A curious jolt went through Zane, and for a second he couldn't do anything but stare at the other man. They'd never been a demonstrative family, not when their father had been a hard-bitten drunkard who believed in the school of hard knocks rather than encouragement and hugs. And they'd been denied any softer influences after their mother had died. Displays of affection were frowned upon and certainly no one ever said, “I love you,” not if they didn't want to be given shit all the way into the next lifetime.

Loyalty was supposed to be a given, as steady and unwavering as the stars in the big Texan sky, and you didn't need to shout about it or even mention it. Too bad it had all been so hollow, an alcoholic's wishful thinking.

Because he'd never experienced that loyalty. Not when his father had nearly beaten him unconscious for getting rid of his bourbon, and not when Charlie had lain dying in his arms while his father and Quinn had argued above his head about who was to blame.

Except for now. Except for Quinn publicly declaring that loyalty in front of all these people.

It shouldn't have been such a big deal, and it certainly shouldn't have made his chest feel tight. But it was the first sign of true Redmond loyalty he'd seen since his mother had died and he felt Quinn's statement like a punch to the gut.

His brother wasn't looking at him, his gaze concentrated on Duchess, his posture loose and easy, as if he hadn't just said the words Zane realized only now he'd been waiting to hear for a very long time.

In fact, he hadn't realized till now that there were a lot of things he'd been waiting to hear for a very long time. Things like, “I know you miss your mother.” And, “I shouldn't have hit you.” And, “I'm going to stop drinking.” And, “I love you, son.”

He'd never heard those things, not ever. But, “I'm doing it for my brother” would do in a pinch. In fact, it would do nicely.

Duchess's sky-blue eyes suddenly rested on him. “And why are you helping her? Or is that a personal question?”

“Uh-oh,” Nora murmured.

Zane was conscious that Quinn's annoyed gaze had transferred to him as well. Too bad. What had happened between him and Iris was their business, not anyone else's. “Because she needs our help,” he said coldly, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest. “Because it's the right thing to do. That's all the reason you need.”

Duchess stared hard at him for a long moment, and he didn't look away. “So you're the good guy in the family, are you?”

The observation was so unexpected he nearly blinked. He opened his mouth to deny it, to tell her he wasn't any kind of good guy, only to have Quinn say, “Yeah, he is. He's the best of us, in fact. You could learn something from him yourself, Duchess.”

Zane shut his mouth, repressing the urge to stare at his brother in astonishment. How the hell could he say that? When Zane hadn't done a single damn thing to warrant being the best of anything except killing people from a distance?

Duchess snorted. “Fine. So presuming we sort out the problem with her bond, what then?”

“Why do you want to know?” Zane shot back. “What's your interest in the cartel?”

She lifted a brow. “What makes you think I'm interested in the cartel?”

“Because you certainly looked pretty interested when I mentioned it just now,” Quinn said. “In fact, I'd go so far as to say that's the most animated I've seen you all day.”

Duchess gave Quinn a faintly annoyed look. “I'm interested in justice. Justice and that's all.”

“If you're interested in justice, then think about this,” Zane said, a sudden idea coming to him. “You want to know why Iris was couriering for the cartel? A douchebag boyfriend tricked her into it because she was trying to make a better life for herself and her little sister.”

Again he spotted a flicker of emotion in Duchess's cool eyes, but all she said was, “Perhaps she should have known better than to trust a douchebag boyfriend then.”

But he hadn't finished. “When she got arrested, her sister was taken into foster care, and now she's desperate to get her back. Which is why she needs those cartel assholes put away once and for all.”

Another flicker in Duchess's gaze.

Had his mention of Iris's sister worked? He hoped so, because there was nothing like calling on family loyalty to make a point, and he'd remembered her mentioning her own sister working the reception desk out front.

Not that they needed Duchess's help, at least not in regards to the bond. It was the cartel they needed help with, and after a quick scan around at the level of capability in the room, he was sure the Duchess team would make for a great backup.

If he could get them on board.

Reflexively he glanced at Quinn and met his brother's eyes, and he knew, without a word being said, that Quinn was thinking exactly the same thing.

“What do you want?” Duchess asked, and this time she was looking at both him and Quinn.

But Quinn only jerked his head in Zane's direction. As if this was his show.

A certainty settled down in Zane. A certainty he hadn't felt for a very long time. “We're going to be drawing the cartel out,” he said, folding his arms, glancing at the rest of the Duchess team to include them as well. “Rush has a connection with the sheriff, and if he's managed to get the police on board too, the cartel will be running straight into a damn jail cell. Then the DA in Dallas can use
them
to testify and leave Iris the hell alone.”