Page 14 of Redeemed (Redeemed #1)

Chapter Thirteen

Alexander

O ne coffee date with Kennedy was all it took for me to crave more of her time. It’s been a week since our meeting, and all I can think about is the next time we can get together.

I can name a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t pursue this thing building between us, but I don’t want to pull away.

She’s part of the criminal world in some capacity, and I’ve just found my place on the outskirts of that world—it wouldn’t be smart to get involved with her and jeopardize my reputation.

It could be bad for business if other VIPs realize I’m showing loyalty to another member.

The only problem is, I can’t seem to stay away.

I pause the book I’m reading, setting it on my nightstand and grabbing my phone.

It’s still early in the evening, so I have time before I need to be at the lounge tonight.

My schedule this week has been hectic, and I should probably take the opportunity to rest before another long night.

Instead, I’m scrolling through my phone until I locate Kitten in my contact list, and it brings a smile to my face.

Me: Kitten, how’s your day going?

Her response is immediate.

Kitten: Oh goodness, I didn’t think before saving that name. My day has been lazy. I wish I could get away with never going into the office again. You?

Me: I think the nickname fits you. It’s been okay, but getting better. Can I FaceTime you?

Kitten: Sure. Fair warning, Sundays are for self-care.

I hit the camera button, initiating the video call feature and she answers on the second ring. When her face fills the screen there’s a white mask on her skin and her hair is wrapped in a towel.

“A beauty queen if I ever saw one.”

She giggles. “You don’t have to lie to me. This isn’t something I would normally do, but Momma Kay keeps telling me my face looks dry and brought this stupid mask when she came to clean today.”

“Momma Kay?”

“She’s our housekeeper, and somewhat of a nanny when I was growing up. She came to Georgia with me and Nathan.”

“That’s nice that you had a familiar presence when you moved.”

“Wherever Momma Kay is, definitely feels like home for us.” The sound crackles as she picks up her phone and lays back on her bed. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you wear your glasses. Very studious.”

She’s smirking, and I love how open she is. We’ve been video calling whenever we have free moments alone, and her comfort level continues to grow. It’s been like watching a flower blossom.

I’m not foolish enough to believe that her guard is completely down, it’s just nice to no longer see the skepticism in her eyes. We’ve both leaned into the possibility of being who we are, without pretending.

“I was getting some reading in before I have to get ready for work,” I admit.

“Oh, you should let me pick out your power suit for the day.”

There’s a mischievous gleam to her eyes.

Who am I to deny her this request?

I climb from the bed and head toward the closet. I prop my phone up, fully aware that I’m only wearing a tank top and sweats.

“Any specific color in mind?”

Her eyes are glazed over, and I can tell her focus is not on my face or the clothes around me. I clear my throat, grabbing her attention and she grants me a shy smile at being caught ogling.

“Hmm, do you have a dark-brown suit? Oh, or maroon? Those colors would bring out the green in your eyes.”

“I do,” there is a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Should I try them on for you?”

“You absolutely should!”

I don’t hesitate to whip the tank over my head, showing off the body I put in major work to obtain. Kennedy is tossing candy in her mouth, enjoying the show.

“Can I ask the meaning behind your tattoos?”

I look down at my chest as I button up my white dress shirt, the collage of wings, clouds, and lightning bolts going back to a time when I was still finding myself.

“I wish I had a cool story or meaning behind the art, but I honestly let the artist use my body as a canvas. I’m just lucky he didn’t draw something crazy.”

She laughs again.

“That’s crazy to leave something permanent to chance.” Her eyes roll at the ridiculousness of my tattoo story. “The maroon is definitely my favorite. You should wear that. No tie. Open collar.”

I can see the heat in her gaze as she captures her lip between her teeth.

“When can I see you again?”

“Missing me already, lover boy?”

An unreasonable amount, but I don’t say that.

“The remainder of my week is free after my work hours, and I’m scheduled to visit the lounge this weekend,” she says with a smile.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” I’m already mentally shuffling my schedule around to get more one-on-one time with her. The smile on her face tells me she knows I’m looking for a way to see each other sooner rather than later.

“I need to go wash this mask off and get ready for tomorrow. I’m glad we got to chat tonight.”

“I am too. I’ll text you in the morning. Goodnight, Kitten,” I say with a roguish smile.

She rolls her eyes as she tries to hide her smile.

“Goodnight, Alexander.”

The next morning, I’m sitting at the bar in the kitchen, enjoying my cup of coffee, when I’m joined by Patrick.

“Morning.” His voice is gruff.

We got in later than normal as Sundays are usually slower for us, but he’s never been one for mornings.

“Hey, Patty.” I take a sip of my coffee as he goes to prepare his own. “Get some good rest?”

“Good enough.”

We sit in silence as I work through emails and the morning news. I give him enough time to be awake and thinking clearly before I hit him with business first thing in the morning. I haven’t been able to relax since Justice showed up at Emerald Nights last week.

“Have you received any news on who The Reapers could possibly be following?”

“No confirmation, but we have a couple of VIP members that could be under surveillance.”

“Get me the list of the possible VIPs and why, if you can. If they are attracting attention that requires mercenaries to handle it, we can limit their visits until we have confirmation that The Reapers’ business here is done.”

“I’ll have it over this morning. Have you spoken with T about what’s going on?”

“Spoken to T about what?” Tori questions as she walks into the room.

She’s still in her pajamas and, considering she didn’t come from upstairs, I’m assuming she rode over on the golf cart like that.

When I first bought this property, she lived in the main house with me, but now that the guest house has been renovated, that’s where she chooses to live.

I shoot Patrick a look because of course she walks in on that exact moment. He looks to me, waiting for my guidance before either of us elaborates on the situation at hand. Tori’s gaze bounces between us, her posture turns rigid, her hands balling into fist.

“The Reapers are in town. I don’t think they’re here for either of us, but they did show up at Emerald Nights last week,” I quickly answer before she gets the impression that we’re keeping anything from her.

That’s a mistake neither of us will make again.

I know telling her was the right decision when her posture relaxes, and her gaze takes on a worried expression.

That’s the part about honesty I don’t like—I either hurt her with my lies or worry her with my truth.

“How long have they been here?” She looks to Patrick, giving him the chance to include her where we didn’t before.

“About two weeks, as far as we know. But that’s all the information we have. Don’t worry about our safety. We are being precautious.”

She accepts his answer and they both gaze at each other, like they have more to say, but the moment passes when Tori breaks eye contact to make her coffee.

“We may assign you another security detail,” I say, knowing she will hate it. But it’s necessary. My sister is here because of me, and I would rather die than allow something to happen to her.

“Are you going to do the same for Kennedy?” She looks at me with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“If Kennedy needed my protection, I would one thousand percent do that for her.” She smirks at my response. “But she doesn’t know about my past. We’re just going with the flow of things, not spilling our guts with pillow talk.”

“Do you think you should even get involved with a member of the lounge?”

That question comes from Patrick. It’s the first he’s asked since Kennedy and I started .

. . whatever it is that we’re doing. I’m not sure why it rubs me like sandpaper to think about cutting my time with Kennedy short.

I know there’s logic to what he’s asking because I’ve thought it myself, but selfishly, I want as much time with her that I can get.

“I don’t think there’s harm in spending time getting to know someone. We’re keeping things lowkey.”

I hope that answer sounds as nonchalant as I want it to. With each conversation, it feels as though we’re slowly evolving to something more than the agreement we made in the coffee shop.

“Well, if you want my opinion, I think you two would look cute together, and the way the chemistry crackles between you now, sparks will fly in a relationship.”

I roll my eyes, grabbing my coffee intending to leave. “Now that I’ve gotten my spiritual reading for the morning, I have some work to do.”

Patrick chuckles at my remark and Tori sticks her tongue out at me with a huff.