crisp white envelope with writing across it. “Are you Harold McGinty?”
“Sort of,” Jazz answered guiltily.
Looking suspicious, the desk clerk nevertheless handed over the envelope. Jax ripped it openly impatiently and withdrew the contents. Inside was the key to another hotel room and five crisp hundred-dollar bills with a note clipped to them.
For services rendered , the note read.
Jax hadn’t kept track during their sexual marathon, but he suspected Rhea, or whoever the hell she was, had included one hundred dollars for every time they made love.
The clerk was looking at him with mild concern. “Are you all right, sir?”
He waved the bills in the clerk’s face.“Apparently,” he said, biting off the words, “I was more than all right.”
Chapter 5
Two months later
Jax got out of his gleaming black Maserati in front of his mother’s house and bit back a smile. Billy, the elder of his two younger brothers, was in the driveway rubbing at a spot on the hood of his old convertible with an worn rag.
Billy’s lower lip was thrust forward, his concentration so intense he hadn’t even heard Jax pull up. His hips swayed slightly to the beat of the rock music blaring from a too-loud boom box. Jax made a mental note to buy him headphones for his next birthday.
Billy straightened from the car and cocked his head as he regarded his handiwork. His golden hair was in wild disarray, dipping into his eyes and covering his neck, but it didn’t disguise his good looks. His baggy shorts were slung low around his hips and his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a sinewy body that belonged more to a man than a kid.
His little brother had grown up right under his nose. Billy not only had an old Ford Mustang he called his own, but had almost finished a year at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
Jax was paying for the college, but his mother had forbidden him from buying Billy a car. That, his little brother had done on his own.
Billy spit on an edge of his rag, leaned over and diligently rubbed at a spot on the hood. Life in the Chicago suburbs, Jax thought, was far removed from the life he’d pulled his family from five years before.
It was a glorious day in April, and Billy was worried about shining his car, no doubt to impress some girl, instead of helping his mother scrape enough money together to feed her family. His brother lived in a luxurious climate-controlled house in a neighborhood with yards resembling thick green blankets instead of a stifling two-room apartment surrounded by cement. Eviction wasn’t a word that ever entered his mind.
Everything, in short, was exactly as it should be.
“Hey, Billy,” Jax called as he crossed the lawn to the driveway. Billy turned, his face breaking into a grin. “What goes through an insect’s mind last before it splatters against the windshield?”
Billy gritted his teeth, as though preparing for a particularly nasty blow. “Oh, no.” He put his hands in front of his face. “Don’t make me guess, Jax. Please don’t make me.”
Jax ignored him and kept walking. He smiled, anticipating his brother’s laughter. “His butt.”
Billy groaned. “Damn, that was lame.”
“It was not.” Jax shook his index finger. “Admit it, Billy. That was one of my funnier jokes.”
“Funnier? Doesn’t that erroneously assume some of your other jokes are funny?”
Jax advanced toward his brother, surprised anew that Billy was only two or three inches shorter than he was. He remembered when his brother barely reached his waist. He ruffled Billy’s blond hair roughly.
“Erroneously? What’s that? College-boy talk? If you’re such a smart guy, how come you don’t get a haircut? Your date’s gonna bark when she sees you because that mop on top of your head makes you look like a golden retriever.”
Billy’s golden brows rose, and he moved swiftly away from the car, toward the hose. Jax recognized his intention, glanced down at his Italian loafers and
“Sort of,” Jazz answered guiltily.
Looking suspicious, the desk clerk nevertheless handed over the envelope. Jax ripped it openly impatiently and withdrew the contents. Inside was the key to another hotel room and five crisp hundred-dollar bills with a note clipped to them.
For services rendered , the note read.
Jax hadn’t kept track during their sexual marathon, but he suspected Rhea, or whoever the hell she was, had included one hundred dollars for every time they made love.
The clerk was looking at him with mild concern. “Are you all right, sir?”
He waved the bills in the clerk’s face.“Apparently,” he said, biting off the words, “I was more than all right.”
Chapter 5
Two months later
Jax got out of his gleaming black Maserati in front of his mother’s house and bit back a smile. Billy, the elder of his two younger brothers, was in the driveway rubbing at a spot on the hood of his old convertible with an worn rag.
Billy’s lower lip was thrust forward, his concentration so intense he hadn’t even heard Jax pull up. His hips swayed slightly to the beat of the rock music blaring from a too-loud boom box. Jax made a mental note to buy him headphones for his next birthday.
Billy straightened from the car and cocked his head as he regarded his handiwork. His golden hair was in wild disarray, dipping into his eyes and covering his neck, but it didn’t disguise his good looks. His baggy shorts were slung low around his hips and his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a sinewy body that belonged more to a man than a kid.
His little brother had grown up right under his nose. Billy not only had an old Ford Mustang he called his own, but had almost finished a year at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
Jax was paying for the college, but his mother had forbidden him from buying Billy a car. That, his little brother had done on his own.
Billy spit on an edge of his rag, leaned over and diligently rubbed at a spot on the hood. Life in the Chicago suburbs, Jax thought, was far removed from the life he’d pulled his family from five years before.
It was a glorious day in April, and Billy was worried about shining his car, no doubt to impress some girl, instead of helping his mother scrape enough money together to feed her family. His brother lived in a luxurious climate-controlled house in a neighborhood with yards resembling thick green blankets instead of a stifling two-room apartment surrounded by cement. Eviction wasn’t a word that ever entered his mind.
Everything, in short, was exactly as it should be.
“Hey, Billy,” Jax called as he crossed the lawn to the driveway. Billy turned, his face breaking into a grin. “What goes through an insect’s mind last before it splatters against the windshield?”
Billy gritted his teeth, as though preparing for a particularly nasty blow. “Oh, no.” He put his hands in front of his face. “Don’t make me guess, Jax. Please don’t make me.”
Jax ignored him and kept walking. He smiled, anticipating his brother’s laughter. “His butt.”
Billy groaned. “Damn, that was lame.”
“It was not.” Jax shook his index finger. “Admit it, Billy. That was one of my funnier jokes.”
“Funnier? Doesn’t that erroneously assume some of your other jokes are funny?”
Jax advanced toward his brother, surprised anew that Billy was only two or three inches shorter than he was. He remembered when his brother barely reached his waist. He ruffled Billy’s blond hair roughly.
“Erroneously? What’s that? College-boy talk? If you’re such a smart guy, how come you don’t get a haircut? Your date’s gonna bark when she sees you because that mop on top of your head makes you look like a golden retriever.”
Billy’s golden brows rose, and he moved swiftly away from the car, toward the hose. Jax recognized his intention, glanced down at his Italian loafers and
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