The Crown Jewels (48 page)

“I’m going to destroy Crit Hope,” he snarled. “Let’s go.”

I was getting a little tired of hearing about it at this point, and still confused how everything fit together, but my main focus was getting him in the car and somewhere safe.

How I ended up as the one person responsible for this drunken man was not something I was thinking about at the time.

“Where are you staying?” I asked as we got back in the car.

“At the Four Seasons,” he slurred.

“In Houston?” I asked.

“Yep. It’s a fucking dump, though,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“That’s a half hour drive away,” I replied, despairingly.

“You said you wanted to drive,” he replied.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” I put the car in reverse, and hit the gas. The car lurched backwards suddenly, sending my heart right into my throat. I shook my head, did my best to clear the cobwebs of whiskey from my brain, and took a deep breath before putting it in drive and heading out towards the highway.

It drove like a dream. I wondered how much it cost as we flew down the highway towards the city, the butter soft leather of the seats caressing my bare thighs seductively. Lincoln seemed to have fallen asleep, and I was grateful for the short reprieve from his drunken ranting.

I couldn’t wait to call Crit and hear his side of the story. Something about the way Lincoln had told it left a lot to be desired. I was sure there was some details left out, something to explain why in the world Crit had felt the need to pummel the man who owned his farm. A sharp pang of sadness pierced my heart when I thought about how Crit must be feeling right now.

And I had ignored his repeated calls, too. I felt terrible, and yet, my head was telling me that none of this was my fault. My heart wasn’t so convinced.

The lights of the city flickered in the distance. I sighed heavily, trying to shake off all the pain and worry.

I felt like I was in a movie. Ruby Rae Rust was flying down the highway in an expensive Mercedes on the way to the Four Seasons Hotel. How did I end up here? I glanced over at a sleeping, sloppily drunk Lincoln, and my heart sank.

The truth was, I couldn’t stand him. I didn’t really care about his money, his car, his fancy clothes, his plane, or his good looks. None of that mattered to me. And the violent anger that had come to the surface after a few drinks and a bloody lip had turned Lincoln into a whole different man than the seductive, smooth talking gentleman I had met at first.

But that’s how booze worked, wasn’t it? It was a like a truth serum in a way - melting away the layers of armor and deception that we wore daily, exposing the true nature of a man like Lincoln.

When Crit got drunk, he just got sweeter.

I sighed again, my heart sinking as I realized that even if he wasn't good for me, even if he had a way of driving me absolutely crazy, even if he wanted to keep me locked away in his proverbial closet - I still loved him.

Crit Hope was the love of my life and there was no denying it.

By the time I pulled up to the front of the Four Seasons, I had figured out exactly what I needed to do. Lincoln was still asleep in the front seat, and after giving the keys to the valet, I woke him up.

“Hey, Lincoln, wake up!” He barely stirred.

“Do you need help miss?” the valet asked.

“Yes, could you help me get him to his room, please?” I asked.

“Of course, miss,” he replied. I moved out of the way as he and another valet easily pulled Lincoln out of the car, and carried him into the hotel.

I was about to follow them, when it dawned on me that my job was done. I grabbed my purse out of the car and jumped in the next available taxi cab.

“Where are you headed, miss?” the driver asked.

“Sugar Hill, please.”

Crit

“Sounds like you’ve got quite a problem on your hands, son,” Hank Haggard said, as he patted my shoulder with his large, meaty hand. I could almost feel the callouses through my t-shirt. Hank had worked on his farm every day of his life, and he had the hands and body to prove it.

He had listened intently for the last fifteen minutes as I told him everything. I had left out the real reason I had fought with LaCroix, figuring the reason didn’t matter as much as the outcome. I didn’t want to get Ruby any more involved than she already was, and hell, considering she hadn’t answered my calls in almost twenty-four hours, I wasn’t even sure she would ever speak to me again.

I tried my best to focus on the matter at hand, though. I was banking on the hope that Ruby would understand everything once she knew all the facts, and that somehow she would forgive me for being such an asshole all the time. I was just under so much pressure, and unfortunately, she was the one that seemed to be around when the pressure got to be too much.

I swore to myself that I would spend the rest of our lives making it all up to her.

“I wish I had the cash to give you, Crit, but as you know, times are tough right now.”

“Did my father tell you about the loan?”

“He didn’t. I wish he had come to me. But he could never have predicted things would turn out like this, son. Don’t blame your father. He was doing what was necessary to keep food on the table.”

“I don’t blame him. I just wish he was here to tell me how to handle it.”

“Well, the best thing to do is to keep your head, Crit. You’re under a lot of pressure, and it ain’t going to do you any good to go toe to toe with this guy. He’s a businessman, and we have to come at this like it’s business. I know it’s personal, but you have to put your feelings aside.”

“Yeah, well you haven’t met him yet,” I grumbled.

Johnson laughed from across his desk. Hank and I had met in his office, hoping to put our heads together to come up with a solution.

“That’s true. He’s hard to like,” Johnson said. “Arrogant. Egotistical. Rude.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea. I have a friend up in New York, back from my military days. He’s a hot shot lawyer on Wall Street these days. Keeps the crooks out of jail, he says. Not the most honorable career, I’ll admit, but he’s good at it, I guess. I’ll see if he knows this LaCroix fella, see if he can dig around and find something we can use.”

“That’s a start,” I replied. I had abandoned all hope at this point, to be honest. I didn’t want to come right out and ask Hank for the money, and I didn’t have to. He just flat out didn’t have it, just like me. I had stayed up all night, my head filled with images of packing up the farmhouse, filling up my truck with all our belongings, and finding somewhere else to board the horses. I had no idea where we were all going to go.

It was too much. It was only two o’clock and I was craving the taste and numbing effects of the whiskey I had been leaning on so heavily over the last few days.

“Thanks, Hank,” I said, standing up and putting my Stetson back on. “I better be going. I’ve got a lot to do today at the farm.”

“Sure thing, son. You holler if you need help around the farm. We’re here for you, son.” Hank shook my hand, and I avoided his eyes, knowing what I would see there.

Pity. And that was the last thing I could face.

My boots carried me down the hall and out of Johnson’s place. When I got in my truck, I put on my sunglasses, pulled my hat down low, and went about the business of pushing all the overwhelming fear and sadness as deep into my soul as I could.

I put the truck in gear and headed to Evan’s bar.

Lee

Eva and I sat in a booth at Quattro, the restaurant at the Four Seasons hotel in Houston. She had insisted that this was the place to carry out the dates she was booking for me. The first one was scheduled for tomorrow night with Dixie.

Eva had booked the room for two days, and she told her husband she was having a girl’s night in the city, so here we were, enjoying the hotel together before it all went down. We had just checked in a few hours ago, and after working up an appetite by fucking like rabbits in the suite, I had insisted on having lunch before continuing. Sex with Eva had a way of leaving me starved.

The restaurant was expensive and lavishly decorated. I was a little uncomfortable with all this upscale fancy bullshit, but I was good at not giving a shit what people thought about me, and that attitude seemed to work in this place. My aloofness was mistaken for wealth, apparently. Wealth was never something I was comfortable with, but Eva seemed to have other ideas for my future.

She was convinced we were going to make a fortune together. I still wasn’t so sure, but I was willing to give anything a try.

I stared across the table at her, her clear, bright green eyes shining back at me, full of excitement and dollar bills. I smiled at her, shaking my head.

“I can’t believe you’ve never run your own business before, Eva,” I said. “You’re a natural.”

“I do have good business sense. It’s true.”

“I can see that. So, do you have any special instructions for me regarding Dixie?”

“Yes, I do, in fact! I sent out a questionnaire to all the interested ladies, asking them about their preferences and boundaries.”

“Of course you did,” I said, winking at her. She shrugged and brought her wine glass up to her lips. I watched with pleasure as she licked a drop of red wine from her lips, my cock hardening in my jeans with anticipation of the caress of those lips later. I never tired of Eva’s body, every inch of her turned me on. Her lips were moving, and I struggled to comprehend what she was telling me. I couldn’t get back up to the room with her fast enough.

“Dixie loves being kissed on her neck,” she said. “She also loves it from behind, apparently. And she requests that you wear your hat and boots at all times.”

“Jesus Christ,” I murmured.

“We’re selling a fantasy, Lee, remember?” she said.

“Sure, I remember,” I mumbled, as I looked around the restaurant for our waitress. “I need another beer.”

“Wow,” Eva whispered, her gaze trailing behind me. “That’s quite a fat lip.”

I turned around and locked eyes with a man in a dark suit walking by. He was tall, with slicked-back black hair, slender, and indeed, he was sporting a big fat lower lip, with an angry slice right up the side of it. His green eyes met mine, his gaze sharp, angry, cold. He looked away, passed our booth, and sat in the booth behind us and pulled out his phone.

The waitress walked up to him first, and I heard him growl at her as he asked for a whiskey. She jumped at the loudness of his voice, quickly walking away to get his drink.

“Great,” I murmured to Eva. “I’ll never get my beer.”

“He looks like he needs a drink more than you do,” Eva joked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I nodded.

“I’m going to the ladies room, I’ll be right back,” she said, grabbing her bag and leaving me alone in the booth after planting a quick kiss on my cheek. I watched her ass wiggle away, and reached down to shift my growing erection.

The waitress brought the whiskey for the man in the suit, and quietly asked if she could bring him anything else.

“I’ll fucking tell you if I want something else! Fuck off!” he yelled.
What a fucking dick
, I thought. The girl left his table, quickly coming over to me. I grinned at her, asked for my beer, and thanked her quietly when she brought it back.

The dick at the next table began screaming into his phone.

“This place is a shit hole, Janet! Couldn’t you find a better hotel in Houston?” he screamed into the phone, turning the heads of everyone within ear shot. He ignored his surroundings, obviously comfortable infringing on the space of everyone around him. “Are you kidding? No way am I keeping that piece of shit property. I’m selling it as soon as possible. In fact, I’ve already made arrangements to have the house demolished, and all the trees cut down and sold for lumber. I’ll sell the land to a developer afterwards. I couldn’t give a shit about what my uncle would want.”

He’s one of those assholes
, I thought as I listened to the stranger. Houston used to be a nice place to live, with nice neighborhoods that weren’t overly developed with condos and high-end retail shops. But in the last few years, like every other place in the country, every little piece of land was being bought and developed by some greedy corporate fucks that didn’t even live there, or care about the communities they were destroying. It was disgusting, and I was thankful the destruction hadn’t affected Sugar Hill just yet.

Listening to this guy go on and on about how much he hated it here, how he hated this land he had, and his incessant ranting and raving - well it was no wonder someone had beat him up. I wanted to punch him just because I had to sit next to him and be subjected to his loud phone call in such a fancy restaurant.

That was the thing about rich people. They all seemed to be assholes and they acted like they owned every place they walked into. They had no regard for any one else.

As I watched Eva appear around a corner and sashay back to me, I vowed to never be a dick, no matter how much money we made together.