“We do treat them well,” my father lied.
We owned a hospital, my dad, me and four other board members. My dad treated it like a business… and technically, it was. But it also wasn’t.
This was a place where people came to feel safe. To get healthy. If they didn’t have happy medical staff working on them, would that continue? Or would they find another hospital.
I was betting they’d find another hospital. At least, that was my professional opinion anyway.
“How much are you suggesting then?” Dad asked.
“Ummm,” I had no clue.
My phone binged, though, and I didn’t bother to fake that I wasn’t looking at it.
I pulled it out and saw an unknown number say ‘one full percent.’
I shrugged and said, “One percent. Not point one.”
My dad’s face went utterly red, and he looked like he was about to blow a gasket.
“I’m not…”
The mayor spoke up then. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Then the mayor went on to tell everyone why the hospital staff deserved the full raise, why they would benefit, and pretty much convinced my father to sign some of his wealth away while he was at it.
I was grinning like a madman when I finally left that meeting an hour later.
Getting into the elevator, I worked my way through the escape room game I was playing, utterly ignoring everyone that got on with me.
That was until I felt someone brush up against my side when the elevator stopped at the second to last floor to let even more people on.
“Sorry,” the mayor’s deep, velvety smooth voice said above my head.
I looked over and up only to have my gaze snag on the man’s Adam’s apple.
I swallowed hard.
I wasn’t aware that an Adam’s apple could be such a complete turn-on, but there I was, looking at one and thinking ‘holy shit I could totally slide my vagina against that when he was talking and come.’
“No worries,” I squeaked.
The mayor shifted beside me, and I got a whiff of his cologne.
And nearly melted into a puddle of goo at his feet.
There was this one time when I was seventeen or so that I’d stolen a magazine from my stepmother. In the magazine had been a couple of samples of men’s cologne, and one of them had been my go-to smell for as long as I could remember now.
When I smelled that smell, it reminded me of a man that would be so totally in control of himself. He would be hot, tall, sexy as fuck and appetizing. He’d know how to treat me, and he’d kick my dad’s ass if I asked him to.
It was called ‘Fucking Fabulous’ by Tom Ford.
I’d actually bought a bottle of it when I was nineteen because every once in a while, I liked to smell it. Liked to remind myself that one day I’d find a man that could afford a bottle of it and wasn’t a total douche.
And a man that could wear it and not give a single flying fuck what the name on the bottle was.
What utterly surprised me was that Mr. Stuck-Up Suit would wear something called ‘Fucking Fabulous.’
Honestly, it was a shocker.
The man dressed like someone that wasn’t the mayor of po-dunk Kilgore, Texas. He looked like a man that would step right out of a magazine.
Or a man that could rival his lookalike model, David Gandy.
“I like your cologne,” I said softly.
His eyes flared and he looked at me.
“You know it?” he asked.
I nodded, my tongue dry and sticking to the roof of my mouth. “I do.”
His lips tipped up at the corner. “Interesting.”
He didn’t say anything more, and neither did I.
Together we exited the elevator.
His stride was longer than mine, however, and he beat me to the door. When he got there, though, he held it for me and waited until I was outside to let it go.
I smiled at him, but he wasn’t even looking at me anymore as he unhurriedly walked to the parking lot.
I expected him to get into a Lincoln Town Car, but he surprised the ever-loving fuck out of me all over again when he walked straight up to a black Harley and mounted it.
Then, without a helmet in sight, he started it up and rode away without a backward glance.
I was left there gaping after him.
CHAPTER 4
Drink the booze and light the fuse.
-T-shirt
LYNN
“You really expect me to do that?”
I looked at Bayou, the warden of the prison in Bear Bottom, Texas.
“Yes,” I answered Bayou. “Because I’m going to need them here in a bit, and you’re going to be able to help me with that, too.”
“How is that?” he asked inquisitively.
“The president will start pardoning them,” I said matter-of-factly.
It was a good damn thing that I’d met a man that was about to become President of the United States in a few short months.
In the meantime, I wanted them kept safe.
I also wanted them to know that the only reason they were getting out was because of me.
Not that I would hold that over their heads. These men weren’t the type to be blackmailed.
I just wanted them to know not to bite the hand that feeds them, so to speak.
“They’re not even in my prison yet,” Bayou grumbled.
“No,” I said. “But they will be. I’m having them all transferred here as we speak.”
One of them was at Leavenworth, two were at Huntsville, and the other three were scattered around the country.
There were more I was looking at, too, but I’d have to wait on them.
The first six were the ones that were going to make this team what it was, anyway.
A doctor, a hacker, a security master, a warfare specialist, and a few other random odd balls that had specialized skills, I was going to make the perfect team that would be able to fight anything.
And, to disguise them, I was going to form them into a motorcycle club that would be their front for why they were in places where they didn’t belong.
The only hitch in my plan was that they were all currently in prison.
“I know what you’re saying,” Bayou grumbled. “But that’s not how I work.”
I looked at him then.
“The first man I’m having transferred over here was sent to prison because he stopped a sex trafficking ring that targeted young women that lived right here in your very own back yard.” I leaned back in my chair and stared at the man.
Bayou’s eyes narrowed.
“The second I’m having transferred is in prison because he decided to funnel a couple of billion dollars out of a mutual fund run by a couple of people that liked to swindle the helpless.” I tilted my head. “These men are good men. They went down for the crimes they committed. They did it willingly. But they did it because they didn’t want to see any innocents suffer.” I tilted my head again slightly. “You ever beat the shit out of someone that hurt a girl?”
Bayou’s jaw tightened.
“A doctor that I’m having sent here was sent to prison for killing a kid that hit his girlfriend with his truck and fled the scene,” I said. “One that nearly killed another woman days after that. His girlfriend won’t even look at him anymore.”
Bayou sighed.