Page 18

But it’s also how I know Nick is Axel’s brother, and I love Nick and Zar too much to let them know that I spied on them.
They wouldn’t understand—all’s fair in The Stalker Wars.
I figured out the mafia thing months ago when Sire Rutledge came in for a “meeting.” He’s Charleston’s hip pastor of a popular non-denominational church and like a God in this town with more ink than Axel. But damn, they have similar blue eyes. They must be brothers who always talk about “The Queen.”
She must be their mafia queen.
But I don’t know who she is.
Though I do know that hot daddy Nash is not Axel’s blood brother, but heisa dad. He has a daughter namedAlena, who’s apparently marrying Loch, another of Axel’s brothers.
Yeah, I know.
I keep a journal on this with diagrams and question marks.
Because with each juicy meeting I listen to for more dirt on my boss, I only get more questions.
To be fair, I’ve never actually heard anyone say “mafia,” but then again … do they? If you were a mobster, you wouldn’t go around referring to yourself as such. Then, you’re not an organized criminal; you’re just a dumbass loudmouth who breaks the law.
But I have had one question answered. I want to be a private investigator. I was born for this. But I don’t have the ten thousand dollars this state requires for a surety bond to get my PI license.
So, I settle on investigating my boss.
And due to my snooping, my heart breaks for Nick and Zar. I didn’t hate Axel when I could hear how mad he was about someone extorting his brother for being gay and in the NFL.
It makes me even more determined to help them, too. I’ve already gone online to confirm that the LLC was formed in Georgia, where anonymous owners are allowed.
So now I need to find someone I can persuade in the Georgia Secretary of State’s office that they deserve one thousand dollars for giving me the name of who owns “Blue Ridge Mountain Escapes, LLC.”
It made me hug Nick and Zar tighter when they left because Iwillfind out. I’ll help them.
An hour later, I tell Helen I’m going home and say it loud enough for Axel and Charleston to hear. Then, I take my time, walking back to The Mercier, where my car is parked.More like my reliable hunk of bolts on wheels, but it gets me over the bridge to home and back.
And its rear-view mirror works just fine. I spot Axel’s black Jaguar following me, five cars behind.
I park outside my modest two-bedroom apartment in West Ashley and swing the front door open. “Hey!”
“In here,” Rose answers, so I poke my head into my little sister’s bedroom and find her grading essays on her laptop.
“So, no hot date tonight?”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffs.
“So, then…?” I chew my lip.
“Fine,” she rolls her eyes, “but the next time you go sneaking around a sex club, I’m going with you.”
“I’m not sneaking, I’mspying.”
“Does your pussy know that? Because sometimes, Inspector Gadget comes home with real men and not a toy.”
“That was over six months ago.”
“He’s going to bust you, you know.”
“Not if you sit by the window and look like me.” I wink. “As usual, he’s waiting outside and will have no idea.”
She slams her laptop closed. Rose works her ass off as a middle school English teacher. She’s allowed to have no patience. “Why is this Michael-aka-Axel dude so obsessed with you?”