Page 57 of Snake

“He does,” Dom answered. “Well, mostly. We’ve been talking about finding leverage on little Autumn over there”—a hot blast of adrenaline shot up Cox’s spine for some reason—“just to keep her in line, but that’s her boss. Much juicier. So I’m takin’ some initiative with this.” He sharpened his focus to Izzy. “How about a grand?”

Izzy thought about that. “A grand and I’m off housekeeping duty for a month.”

That condition made Dom pull back a little. He raked his hand through his long, perpetually tangled hair and looked away.

Understanding his brother’s hesitation, Cox nearly smiled. Clubhouse management was the purview of the old ladies, in particular Adrienne and Candy, the wives of the president and VP, and Lilli as well, though Isaac hadn’t been an officer for decades. That woman kept hold of whatever she wanted to hold, regardless of protocol, policy, or tradition. Of the three, she was the scary one. But they were all formidable.

Dom was afraid of pissing the women off.

But Len said, “We can make that work, yeah. Thanks, Iz.”

Before anyone could move and get started on this slapdash plan, Darwin said, “What about Autumn? I know nobody likes her, but she’s no fool. What if she sees us coming with this?”

Immediately Cox understood where this ‘plan’ was headed next, and the thought of any of his brothers, especially the single ones, taking on the task of ‘distracting’ Autumn made the edges of his vision go dark.

“I’ll handle her,” he said.

When his brothers’ faces went slack with shock, he ignored them and focused on Izzy. “C’mon, Iz.”

Izzy stood and followed him to the bar.

Halfway there, he could already hear the guy—he was one of those who kept talking louder until everyone around him had no choice but to listen. Autumn had taken the opportunity of his focus on Badger and Double A to move completely out of his reach, shifting to the other side of the group. As she was facing the Suit now, Cox could imagine her choosing that position specifically because it gave her the option to say she simply wanted to see him better, or something like that.

She was nothing if not strategic.

True to her former profession, Izzy showed no hesitation whatsoever. She’d shifted her tits in her tiny top and fluffed her hair (currently a blend of burgundy and pink) while they crossed the room, and now she went straight to the Suit (Cox hadn’t bothered to commit the man’s name to memory) and put herself between him and his audience. Whatever the Suit had been saying, he cut off abruptly.

Izzy leaned on the bar, lifting her ass—encased in a red leather miniskirt—and asked Chuck, the hangaround on barkeep duty, “Hey, hon—can I get a G&T?”

“Sure, Iz,” Chuck said and got to making the drink.

Izzy turned to the Suit. “Oh, sorry,” she purred like a southern belle. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll be outta your hair in just a tick.”

“No need to rush on my account, beautiful,” the Suit oozed—and hooked a golf-tanned hand over Izzy’s hip. “What’s your name?”

Izzy grinned with just a hint of coy shyness. “Isabeau. But folks call me Izzy.”

“Why would they do that, when Isabeau is such a pretty name?”

No fish had ever been hooked as quickly as this asshole. Cox left them behind and went to Autumn.

Frowning, her arms crossed, she watched him come.

“Hey,” he said, feeling oddly defensive in the beam of that irritated expression.

“Hello.” The period at the end of that single word was like the drop of a hammer.

There was tension here Cox couldn’t quite understand. It didn’t feel like simple dislike or disinterest. It felt more ... active. Not hostile, but in that neighborhood. But why? The last time they were together, she’d been sloppy drunk, and he’d put her to bed. They’d bickered and argued plenty during that evening, but not at the end. He’d taken care of her. More than he should have. He was pretty sure her grabbing him and asking him to stay—because she was scared—was why he couldn’t dig her out of his head.

He didn’t know where this weirdly electric feeling between them, like poles of magnets resisting each other, was coming from, and he wanted to get clear of it. But he had no talent for or interest in small talk. He was happier when he didn’t have to talk at all.

Now that he was over here, he could not fathom why he’d volunteered so readily to ‘handle’ Autumn Rooney, a woman he didn’t care about, no matter how shiny her ginger hair was, or how lush her pink lips. Or how her light brown eyes seemed to gleam like precious metal.

“What do you want, Cox?” Autumn asked, her tone weighed down with exhaustion, like she’d just fought a bloody battle.

He tried to figure out what the answer should be, but before he could, she gave him something else to work with.

“You’d better head back to your girl over there,” she said, nodding toward Kalina. “I’m afraid she doesn’t know how to sit by herself. She might get hurt.”