Chapter Three

Simon had been working out for about twenty minutes, letting the echoes of clanking weights bring a semblance of order to his brain. Pierce Securities was busy. Clients were coming from everywhere. The high-profile case involving the senator’s shooting by the Pierce Securities team was still in the news, since his played-down legacy, Jonas, was missing. Quinten’s girl, Valerie, was also making news, as the former debutante was having a philanthropic comeback. Zack and Bonnie were still in hiding in the small New Mexico mountain town, having more fun than necessary. Hollerman was picking up the slack, making everything a little smoother, but things were still hectic.

Pierce Securities was doing well, yet Simon’s head was still murky, his emotions scattered everywhere, a mix of pride, self-loathing, and incompetence.

“I need a sound off. Where’s everybody at with their cases?” Maybe he could straighten his head out with an update.

Deena was huffing and puffing on the treadmill. “I have a lead on that missing guy. Slade and I are going to Houston tonight.” Simon had given her this case, hoping she could prove herself worthy to herself. Simon could see success with Pierce Securities bringing it back to her. She was getting better, but everyone needed a boost now and then.

“Keep working on it. I have faith in you.” He managed a grim smile, making an effort. He really wanted her to find Jonas, but she was still learning how to work effectively with his boys. She was a little brash and a lot independent, and he didn’t want the whole Jonas thing screwed up, so he was letting her work solo cases for the moment. “Quinten?”

“I start the part-time bodyguard detail for Loveless today.” Loveless was a lead singer for a band touring around the Austin area. He’d received death threats from a super-fan who’d gone mental, and Quinten and Ryan were being farmed out to supplement their security. “It doesn’t look too hard. Following around a vapid folk singer, trying to avoid a contact high.”

Simon smiled to himself. His brother sounded happy for once. Valerie was doing wonders for him.

“Evan?” The man in question was doing his spider monkey impression on the chin bar.

Dropping to the floor, he used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face. “Dex and I are still trying to find what’s left of the human trafficking operation the senator was involved in. With the senator dead, the ring seems to have gone underground. There’s no fucking trace.”

“Can you find the son? Jonas?”

“No. It’s like he never fucking existed after high school. Even his college transcripts are wiped. But we’re still looking.” He huffed a minute. “And we all know the fucker went to college.”

Quinten murmured something that probably echoed Simon’s thoughts. Jonas’s college transcripts were probably made-up shit interspersed with illegal shit. If they were his, Simon would probably want them gone too. But they knew he went to Baylor, at least for a while when he was stalking Bonnie there, supposedly mistaking her for his step-sister. It was some twisted fucking shit, and Simon wanted him exterminated.

But he needed to find the asshat. He’d hurt Bonnie and Zack, as well as no telling how many innocent girls. Bastard needed to pay.

“What about Jordan? Where’s he?” He already knew, but part of the deal with Pierce was they all had each other’s backs and knew where the others were at all times.

“He’s working the missing woman case out of Banderas, isn’t he?” Deena Rae huffed from the treadmill. Jesus, she must be on her sixth or seventh mile by now. The woman’s legs didn’t quit, rhythmically pounding away at the rubber of the machine.

“Yeah, and he’s also looking into the estranged husband who owes child support on that other case,” Dex interjected on a whoosh of exhaled air as he pushed the bar off his chest.

Simon liked Dex. Acquaintances from the force, they weren’t really friends until Simon opened Pierce Securities and seemed to keep getting assignments Hollerman was working. A former cop like Simon, they had a brotherhood with more texture than that of just cops or co-workers.

Dex worked like Simon did, and was just as much of a control freak, which was why he’d retired early and come to work with Pierce.

“What do you got, Sarge?” Ryan questioned as he spotted Dex.

“Paperwork,” Simon groused. “And another job. You are all so busy, I thought about not taking it, but it seems like we’re needed.” He had to be careful and not let his protective, control-freak side interfere with the job. He honestly wanted to help all the people, but he also knew that was sometimes a fallacy. He could just be wanting to play hero and needed to be honest with himself.

“Nah … Take it. Spice of life and all that,” Evan grunted from his perch back on the chin-up bar.

Simon grunted. He typically didn’t work the assignments, only supervised, offered support where needed, and dealt with the massive amount of papers he insisted on. But honestly, Miriam was better with the paperwork than he was and could usually take care of it in half the time. And the way his brain had been the last few months, he hadn’t been very supportive.

His mind had been going crazy, running and whirling in so many different directions, he could barely get a handle on any one case. Maybe he should get out there and do something. Maybe that would be his anchor.

Simon got on the floor, leaning against a bench, and started his pelvic lifts. The conversation over, the gym filled with the sounds of grunts and breathing. He watched his motions and realized exactly what he looked like he was doing.

Maybe he just needed to get laid.

After his workout and a shower, Simon sat at his desk and listened to the power saw next door. Dex, Zack, and Evan had all moved into the same office space, and it was ridiculously cramped. They weren’t the only ones sharing an office, so Simon had started renovations a while back, and they seemed to be never-ending.

Business was good, better than he’d imagined.

When Simon had first started the company, it was for redemption. He wouldn’t lie to himself and pretend it was any other reason. He had past sins to make good on. Pierce Securities had turned into so much more—a relatively unified group of misfits who had banded together to redeem themselves and, in the process, each other. But Simon still didn’t feel whole.

He looked around the office space—sheetrock dangled in neat strips from the walls, dust everywhere, furniture was covered with cloths, and tools were lying around, waiting to be used.

That was Simon. He was definitely a work in progress. Redemption was still coming.

The scotch he kept in his bottom drawer tugged at him, but he swiped a hand across his face, resisting its pull. He’d been a little too careless with it back when Miriam had surgery. He’d felt everything falling apart then, but he’d miraculously regained his self-discipline, and the company had rejoined at the seams. Things had gotten better before they completely fell apart.

Of course, he couldn’t govern everything, no matter how hard he tried. But as he eyeballed the bottom drawer of his desk, Simon reminded himself he could control this. He would control this.

Simon told himself liquor would calm the voices in his head, but in reality, it probably wouldn’t. The voices would still be there, no matter how much meaningless sex he had. They told him he wasn’t good enough to run this company, he wasn’t living up to his parents’ expectations with their legacy, and he wasn’t doing enough for his family.

Yeah, he hadn’t shown much restraint with Bonnie and her stalking issues at Baylor a few years back, but he’d sure as fuck gotten her home under his thumb as soon as he could. She’d gone around him with Zack as soon as she could, but after everything else that had happened with the guys at the firm, he expected no less. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get them to keep their dick in their pants while working, and he knew Zack and Bonnie had a thing long before he’d even tried to keep them apart. They were inevitable.

And now Quinten had finally fallen in love. Lord knew the guy had been trying since puberty to have a conscience about who he fucked. Naturally, he’d found her on a job, much to Simon’s chagrin. He’d trusted Quinten, above all others, to not fuck the clients because Quinten knew how important that was for Simon. But he’d gone and fallen in love with one, even though he knew more than almost anybody else what was at stake.

But not as much as Simon knew.

He knew sleeping with a client was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Although, if he were honest with himself, Simon knew he hadn’t just slept with Tonya. He’d fallen in love. And then he’d shot her.

Fuck. This was not where his mind needed to go right now.

Simon had a job. He needed to get his head on straight ASAP. Refusing to drown himself in the bottle of single malt in his drawer right now, he needed to get laid. Maybe that would silence the voices. At least for a little while.