Mr. CEO(85)

“Sounds like you see more to him than just the party boy you thought he was.” Darcy has always been one to have great insight, and it's one of the reasons she's one of my mentors. “You going sweet on him?”

“Jackson? No way, he's still a douchebag,” I protest immediately. “But still... he said some things that are making me reconsider my original plan. I need to focus on my real target, Darcy. Slash and burn tactics that damage the family as a whole can alienate potential allies.”

“I thought you said you don't see any allies within the DeLaCoeurs,” Darcy comments. “In fact, I think your last analysis on them was 'a total nest of vipers and poison that would kill a bayou gator if it ever ate one’. Or was that someone else I remember?”

“No, that was me. But... well, maybe I was a bit off on that. Peter... he's still a dead man. But Jackson, maybe Andrea... maybe I need to rethink things.”

Darcy sits quietly for a moment, then hums. “Does that mean you're going to ask Domino to hold off on tomorrow's bomb?”

I shake my head. “No chance in hell. First off, I know Domino well enough to know that once he's got information, he's going to run with it no matter what. But also, the info I gave him is aimed solely at Peter, I didn't want to blow open Andrea's past just yet. I was gonna save that one for a bigger move. This one... it's just to irk him some, get him a bit more uncomfortable.”

“And if Peter decides that he's a lot more interested in Nathan Black finding you because of it?”

“Then I guess Nathan and I will have to have a meeting of the warriors. I know his training, Darcy. The advantage I have is... he doesn't know mine. 'If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.'”

“Hagakure again?” Darcy asks, and I shake my head.

“Sun Tzu. The Art of War.”

“You have such wonderful reading tastes,” Darcy quips, then chuckles. “What else is on your reading list?”

“Computer Hacking for Dummies.”

Darcy blows me a raspberry before laughing. “So you do have a sense of humor still. Even if it is total wiseass.”





Chapter 10





Jackson





I wake up early today, filled with a sense of purpose and drive that I haven't had in a really long time. The sun isn't even up yet, and I'm already dressed and heading through the mansion to the converted garage where the gym is set up. I switch on the lights and look over the one area of my life where I'm the undisputed master... or at least I thought I was, until Katrina put me on my ass in about two seconds yesterday.

I'm no pushover. I've had more than my fair share of throw downs, and my forty-eight-inch chest isn't just bodybuilding muscle. I've trained too, mostly in BJJ and MMA, getting into scraps and knuckling up with some bad f*ckers. It was one of my adrenaline rushes for a while, going down to some of the worse neighborhoods, or under the bridges near the Pontchartrain Expressway where they do the bum fights, and throwing down.

But while I took some licks in those underground fights, I never had my ass handed to me as quickly or as effectively as what Kat did to me. Sure, she caught me off guard, but that won't happen again. I promise myself that as I grab my workout notebook from the shelf and look at the page in my journal, seeing that today's a chest and triceps day. Good, I can use the heavy work to get myself calmed down again.

I start with an empty bar on the fifteen-degree incline press, just getting the blood flowing into my chest and shoulders and grooving the movement again.

I haven't done these in a month, and my first set with 275 feels a little heavier than normal, probably since I'm not used to lifting this early in the day, but I get through it okay, and note that on my upper set I might need to drop a rep.

I slide the next set of two and a half pound plates on each side when the door to the gym opens and Andrea walks in, stopping when she sees me. “Whoa. What the hell are you doing up at six thirty in the morning?”

“Oh, come on Andi, you've seen me awake plenty of times at six thirty,” I say as she shrugs and comes in, stripping off her outer t-shirt to just her sports bra and running shorts. The gym has more than just weightlifting equipment, and she gets on the StairMaster, draping her shirt over the bar above the console.

“Of course I've seen you awake at six thirty. But usually when you're stumbling in the house still half-drunk after a party,” she says. “Not in here, and certainly not lifting.”

“Gotta do what I gotta do,” I say, setting up under the bar. The gym isn't air-conditioned, although I can turn on a high-velocity fan if it gets too bad, but that's on purpose. I don't have any * pads on the squat bars, and I don't need no * air conditioning, either. “Enjoyed getting out of the house yesterday, and think it might be time for me to get out some more again today. Besides, maybe if I act like I've got my shit right, Pops will get off my ass.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Andrea says, starting up her workout. “You really think Peter will give you a little more slack with that leash he's got on you?”

“Maybe not the full amount, but he's gotta let me out sometime,” I say. “Might be a month before I'm going to be safe to go by the Watering Hole again.”