The Exception (The Exception #1)

“That’s fine, but they’re pissed and you’re going to be pissed. Just let me handle this. Your public relations skills need work anyway.”


I leaned against the window. “So how in the fuck did this happen? These were just random cuts in two different waterlines? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“That’s what I’m telling you. There were gashes sliced in both lines that the utility sub uncovered at the end of the day yesterday.”

I chewed on the side of my cheek. “So this wasn’t a random burst then.”

“Nah, someone sliced them sure as shit.”

“Powers?”

“That’s what I’d bet my money on. I told you right off that this is where I thought he’d hit you. This is the reason why your dad is in the grave and his is in the pen. It makes sense.”

“You’re right. And it’s our most visible project. This is going to be a mess, PR-wise, so this fucks us a few different angles … the most bang for his buck.”

“Exactly.”

“We need to see if anyone saw anything,” I said, chewing on my fingernail.

“I already have the word out to check surveillance cameras from the neighboring buildings and threw up a reward if someone knows something, but I’m not holding my breath. It’s so fucking dark out here once the sun goes down and people aren’t alert enough these days to see anything.”

“All right. Well, go smooth things over with the City and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I glanced at the clock.

“Don’t pull up here raising hell, man. Remember—flies. Honey.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Whatever.”





JADA


The following Saturday afternoon was blistering hot and Kari and I sat in her car outside of Cane’s house, the air conditioner blasting cool air. I picked at the hemline of my black bathing suit cover-up, while Kari checked her makeup.

I had lost a bit of weight since the Simon ordeal and my cover-up was a little looser as a result. My nerves were beginning to settle; I wasn’t looking over my shoulder as much as I had originally. The bruises had faded and every day felt like another day away from the craziness.

“Have you ever been here before?” I asked, looking up at the brown and ivory house sitting before us. It was a two story home with a fence coming off of both sides, encompassing the backyard. The landscape was clean and tidy, a sprinkler going off as I watched. It was just the kind of place I had pictured Cane would live in.

It was a gated community. All of the houses looked relatively new and all relatively the same. Cane’s house backed up to the golf course that meandered its way through the subdivision and I vaguely wondered if Cane played golf. He had never mentioned it and I couldn’t see his lack of patience faring very well on the course.

“Uh, no,” Kari said, looking at me like I was crazy. “Why would I have ever been here?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d been here with Max,” I sighed. “I have only been here once before and … I don’t know. What if it’s weird being here?”

“Why would it be weird being here?”

I shrugged.

“Well, he clearly wants you here, Jada. He asks you all the time to come and you always end up getting him to come to my house. So relax.”

I took a deep breath and exited the car, not sure why in the hell I was nervous about this.

“Stop fidgeting with that ring! You’re being dumb,” Kari said as she forged ahead and rang the doorbell. As we stood there waiting on them to answer the door, we could hear music playing inside.

“Seriously? What are they listening to?” Kari said, twisting her face in disgust.

“It’s Five Finger Death Punch. I heard it playing in Cane’s Denali the other day.”

“We’re going to have to fix that!”

The door flew open and Max stood there in a pair of camouflage swim trunks, sans shirt and shoes. A dark tattoo ran up his left side, a mixture of art and words. His left pectoral muscle had a tribal design, too. His dark hair was wet and looked like he had been running his hand through it, the one presumably not holding the red plastic cup. I stifled a laugh as Max smiled seductively at Kari.

“Hey,” Kari said in her flirtiest voice, giving him a megawatt smile.

“Ladies,” Max said, eyeing us for a second before bending down and kissing my sister. “Come on in. Cane is out back.”

I stepped through the doorway and glanced around the great room. The house was bright and airy. A black leather sofa and love seat faced a large flat screen television mounted on the wall, a pool table sitting behind the sofa. There was a selection of magazines on the coffee table, but not a lot of personal touches. Everything was very masculine, but organized.

We sauntered into the kitchen and I could see Cane outside, tending the grill. He had on a pair of white swim trunks with a blue checkered print that hung low on his hips and sunglasses. And that was deliciously it.