Page 1 of Redemption

Chapter 1

Vector

I can’t actually say anything when Roman pushes the door open without knocking. After all, it was Piercer that didn’t bother to fully shut it behind him.

“Prez?” he asks, not bothering to acknowledge that I’m already frowning in his direction. “There’s, uh, someone here from the gas company. They’re going to need access to the back end of the property in the next couple of weeks because of some project the county is handling, and they need to run it by you.”

“This is fucking bullshit,” I growl before closing the ledger that Bridget left for me to deal with while she’s out of town. Motioning him to give me a minute, I stand, holding the side of the desk to stretch my leg a bit before I join the others.

The numbers took up most of my morning, otherwise I wouldn’t have spent so long in one position. They all know I refuse to be hurried, but they don’t know it’s because I will not let any of them see me limp.

Securing the ledger in the safe, I grab my keys and make sure to lock my office door while I go handle this nonsense.

I was an infant when Jigsaw converted this old warehouse into our headquarters and my least favorite aspect of it is that the office is tucked right behind the bar. Notwithstanding the sound proofing that was installed, I’m constantly annoyed, not only at having to walk directly out into a group of people, but the amount of times guests come and try to yank the door handle off—ignoring the signage since they expect it to be a bathroom.

Today, when I walk out, there’s a semi-circle of my brothers surrounding a woman in a white hard hat and an orange vest. It’s when I see her long, bright red hair peeking out underneath the hat that I begin to suspect they got me a stripper.

Oak shifts, allowing me a better view just as the woman looks up, annoyance flashing across her face at all the attention she’s getting. Unless strippers stopped wearing make-up, she’s the real deal; and if the red streak on her neck is any indication, she’s also about to lose her temper.

I let out a whistle that would stop any New York City cab and everyone immediately freezes before looking my way.

“Christ, finally,” the woman mutters, holding her iPad up to put some space between her and Oak. “Are you Andrew Morgan?”

My given name draws a few chuckles from the men, but I nod, and she steps forward. From the second she’s within an arm’s length of me, my eyes lock onto her lips and I barely pay attention to what she’s saying.

There’s a long pause, and I realize she’s waiting for something from me. Looking up into her eyes I see how annoyed she really is—and I can imagine, she probably has a checklist of people who she needs to sign off on this project for the county. The problem is, she’s fucking gorgeous so I’m sure I’m not the only one who missed every single word of her spiel.

“Are you hearing impaired? Do you have someone who can interpret for us?” she asks me, hiding the flash of humor in her eyes by looking behind her to see if any of the men are nearby, and I can’t stop the bark of laughter I let out.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with my hearing, I just can’t figure out what you’re doing working for VNG,” I respond, referencing her employer.

“They were hiring. Can you sign this, please?” The pitch of the woman’s voice has gone up a notch or two, and I know as well as anyone the temper that redheads are famous for. “It just acknowledges that you were informed that we’ll be working on your property.”

“No, I’m not signing it,” I tell her, crossing my arms to see what her next play will be. I know with utility easements the way they are, the gas company is within their rights.

“The county has signed off on this project and it is time sensitive, we need to show that…”

I cut her off, waving my hand to let her know I understand.

“Come on, why don’t you walk me back to the area your team will need access to,” I counter, knowing that I’m going to have to cave eventually, but I want to know what area they need to work in besides buying myself some time to get a read on this woman. “Just don’t get your hopes up about me signing that today. I’m going to need a copy emailed to my attorney for review. If he gives it the all-clear, I’ll sign it.”

She lets me lead her back outside and I see the truck with the company’s logo on the side, when she takes a step toward it, I speak up again, “I could use the walk.”

“Sure,” she says, after assessing me for a moment. “Let me just radio in so they know I’ll be delayed.”

I give her a tight grin, knowing she’s playing it safe in case I decide to chop her up and bury her on my land. She leaves the driver’s door open as she uses a radio to make the call, and different scenarios play through my head.

When I first heard her purpose, I was certain she was a cop or a Fed of some variety—except the depth of her accent, maybe fromTexas or Louisiana, is the type of thing most agencies iron out during training.

Then the boot that’s hanging out of the vehicle is too well-worn, she didn’t just pick those up at the local discount store for this assignment.

“Prez,” Oak calls me from the doorway, signaling me over to him. “Digging up the property might not be the best idea.”

“No shit,” I softly reply. “God only knows if Jigsaw left any of his enemies around the place. I’m going to stall the project as long as I can. You and Crasher work together to figure out how to get ahead of this.”

With a click of his tongue, I turn in time to enjoy the sway of her hips as she’s walking back toward me. Until she catches us watching her and instantly tenses up, stepping with decidedly more purpose as she continues.

The sight of her neck reddening again brings back long buried memories of the pale skin, red-headed woman I loved a lifetime ago; but I can tell, that’s where any similarity between the two ends.

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