Devil's Bargain Page 11

  She’s been leaving breadcrumbs almost like she wants me to figure it out and I can’t shake one comment in particular. The one that there are worse men than me out there.

  I leave her there to get dressed and pour myself a whiskey in the living room. I read the file and it’s not specifically about Melissa, this one. More about what a dick Sean Boyd is.

  “Get me financials on the shop too. Wrinkles in Time,” I text. I heard what the woman said about donations to the shelter. That shop can’t be taking in enough for her to live on and donate regularly.

  “I’ll have that for you tomorrow,” Jack replies.

  I’m just tucking my phone back into my pocket when I see a message pop up about a voice mail. I check my missed calls. When I see the number and realize who it is, I ignore the voice mail.

  My brother can fucking wait.

  Fifteen minutes later, Melissa appears wearing the deep crimson dress I laid out for her. The silk hugs her close displaying just enough skin to leave you wanting. The color is perfect with her olive coloring and tonight, with her long hair loose down her back, she’s magnificent.

  She’s slipping on the matching four-inch sandals and has a small clutch tucked under one arm.

  “How do women wear these?” she asks as she gets the second one on and walks toward me.

  I don’t think she has any idea how she looks.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell her, unable to drag my eyes from her.

  She stands in front of me. “Thanks,” she says. “Again, I feel mostly naked.”

  I finish my drink and put the glass down before pushing the button for the elevator. “And like last time, everyone will be wishing you were when they see you. One thing,” I say, and reach into my pocket to take out her driver’s license. A better forgery.

  “You made me a new one?”

  I nod. “Yours was crap.”

  She looks at it, reaches out her hand to take it, but I snatch it away.

  “I want to know why you need this,” I tell her.

  She looks suspiciously at me. “No personal effects. Terms, remember?”

  She’s using my own rule against me.

  I concede, holding out the fake license to her. I’ll find out. I always do.

  Cautiously, she takes it and slips it into her clutch.

  “One day you’ll tell me, Melissa.”

  “Why are you so curious?”

  “Because you make me curious.”

  “I’m not that interesting,” she says.

  “I think there’s more to you than you let on.”

  She studies me, her eyes searching mine as if trying to glean what I know. But just as she won’t tell, neither will I.

  The elevator arrives and, with a hand at her lower back, I guide her inside, take my key out of the slot and tuck it into my pocket then push the button for the lobby.

  “Why are you taking me with you?” she asks as she watches the city and I watch her.

  “It’s more fun than going alone.”

  “Why go at all?” She turns to me. “I don’t get the feeling you’re looking forward to it.”

  “I’m not. But I need to talk to a couple of people.”

  We get to the lobby where Axel is waiting beside the elevator. He’s on a call but when he sees us, he nods, and disconnects.

  We walk out to the waiting sedan and I open the back door for Melissa. Once she’s in, I sit in the passenger seat beside Axel.

  “How’s your brother?” I ask him.

  Ever since the other night when one of the men at the quarterly draw caught his attention, he’s been talking to his brother almost daily and I want to know what’s up. Axel is my most trusted man. With Hugo living on the east coast, I don’t want to take a chance on losing him.

  “Good. Same.” He looks over his shoulder as we head out of the parking lot and merge with traffic. “I may need to head east in a few weeks.”

  “How long?”

  “A month at most.” He keeps his eyes on the road.

  I see the red of a new tattoo creeping up along the collar of his shirt.

  “This have to do with that errand you ran the other night?”

  He nods once.

  I look ahead at the blinking lights of cars as we slow for a traffic light.

  “Let me know when your plans are confirmed. And if you need my help…” I let that drop.

  He glances at me. “Appreciate that, but Hugo and I will handle this one. Looking forward to it, in fact.”

  I see how his jaw tightens, how his eyes narrow as he says it.

  “I pity the man,” I say.

  He gives a short smile.

  Twenty minutes later we’re at the house where the party is being held. I climb out, open the back door for Melissa.

  Axel lights up a cigarette and leans against the hood of the car.

  Melissa eyes the cars parked along the drive as we walk to the front door. The men nod when they recognize me and noise swells when they open the front doors.

  There must be two-hundred people in here.

  We stand in the foyer for a moment and I take it in, scanning everyone on this floor and those I can see upstairs. I check my watch just as a man I recognize comes to my side. I don’t know his name, but his boss is the one I’m here for.

  “Mr. MacLeod,” he says. “I’ll show you to the study.”

  “I know where it is. Give me a minute,” I tell him, and turn to Melissa.

  She looks so completely out of place here. Maybe not to the casual observer because it’s not that she doesn’t fit in physically. It’s in her eyes, they’ve taken on the same look they sometimes do with me when she’s creeping into her shell.

  “Let’s get you a drink,” I say, walking her to one of the bars. “What would you like?”

  “Vodka tonic, please,” she says.

  I order and tip the bartender as she takes her drink. We walk to a quieter corner.

  “I need ten minutes. Then we can leave.”

  She looks up at me. “I’m fine,” she says. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “Axel will be in any minute.”

  She smiles. “I think I’d rather be alone than make small talk with Axel, but thanks.”

  I nod and walk through the crowded room to the study which is at the far end of the last hallway. Scanning the room as I do, I note the man who’s already got his eye on Melissa.

  “Hawk,” comes the gruff voice of James Douglas as one of the men guarding the office door opens it and the smell of freshly lit cigars pours into the hallway.

  I enter, take in the older man behind his enormous desk. He’s my father’s age. And my father’s enemy. Which in a right world, would make him my enemy. But in my world, he is my ally. Not friend. No. I don’t make that mistake. But at this moment, our goals are aligned. They won’t be for long, but right now, I need this bastard.

  “What happened on the vote?” I ask as the door is closed behind me. “How the fuck did we lose our advantage?”

  15

  Melissa

  I hate parties. I always have.

  I pretty much always feel awkward and can never figure out how people stand there and make small talk for hours.

  There are easily two-hundred people here. Men and women and enough perfume and hair spray to smother you.

  I notice how when Hawk walks away, people seem to part to clear his path. The way they look at him, men and women both, I know everyone knows who he is. I wonder if he notices how watched he is. If he cares.

  As soon as he’s gone, I find eyes turn to me. The men appear curious. The women, something else.

  I drink my vodka and try not to make eye contact with anyone as I walk along the perimeter of the room, looking for a bathroom or someplace to disappear into for the next ten minutes.

  When Axel walks inside, I’m at the far end and I don’t think he sees me when he scans the room. He stands off to the side, his face impassive and closed. I’m guessing he’d like t
o make small talk with me about as much as I’d like to make it with him.

  The thought makes me smile and when I get to the next drink station, I put my empty glass down and order another.

  The bartender hands it to me and I slip backward into a shadowy part of the room where I can watch but not feel so exposed.

  Although I’m not wearing a watch, I know it’s past the ten minutes Hawk said he’d be gone when I order my third drink, this time just the tonic. We haven’t eaten yet and I’m already feeling the two I’ve had.

  I slip back into my corner but I’m not alone for long. A few moments later, a man, young, maybe just a year or two older than me, comes to stand beside me.

  I look at him because he’s standing closer than would be acceptable and when I do, I find him watching me with a strange look in his eyes. Like a boy who’s excited about something. And I say boy because when I look at his face, I’m not sure he can grow a beard yet. He looks almost pubescent.

  He’s tall too, tall and lanky, like a skeleton in a suit, with blue eyes and black hair.

  Something about him makes me shudder in repulsion. Makes me want to slip away.

  He nods to me and I turn back to the crowd. All I can think is out of all these men—who look much more threatening than this kid beside me—he’s the one that’s got me creeped out.

  “Big party, huh?” he asks.

  “I guess.” I don’t look at him but keep my eyes on the hallway down which Hawk disappeared.

  “Didn’t know you were in town,” he says.

  “Excuse me?” I ask, turning to him. “Do I know you?”

  His face takes on a flush. Or maybe it’s just his coloring.

  I think if he held out his hand to introduce himself and shake mine, I’d have to find some way to avoid having to touch him He’s making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

  But when he next speaks, that nervous expression is gone. He’s serious. He swallows his drink loudly, never taking his eyes off me. What I see in them, it makes my stomach turn.

  “You wouldn’t know me, but I know you,” he says.

  There’s a sudden chill in the room. The moisture on my glass, I’m not sure if its condensation or sweat from my palm. Because I understand what he means. I understand how he knows me. If I look hard enough, I may even see a resemblance.

  Does this run in families? Do predators breed predators?

  “Older now, but still pretty. I’d never forget those eyes.”

  I’m going to be sick.

  “I didn’t realize…” he’s still talking but all I hear is noise. I can’t make out the words. It’s like my ears can’t take them or my brain can’t or won’t process them.

  The boy-man leans toward me, licks his already wet lips, then touches the back of one knuckle to my shoulder.

  But in the instant his skin makes contact with mine, I swear in that same split second in time, Hawk appears out of nowhere. His hand clamps over the man’s wrist and the sound the man makes is a feminine-sounding scream.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Instinctively I step backward, letting Hawk’s body come between myself and the man. Letting him shield me from the awful boy-man who stares at Hawk.

  He’s as tall except that Hawk is huge compared to this almost awkwardly skinny boy-man with the look of terror on his face. I notice the spot on his suit jacket. His drink. It must have spilled when Hawk grabbed his arm.

  Axel’s at our side, too, now.

  “I asked you a question,” Hawk says.

  The boy-man looks beyond Hawk to me, then back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was with you. I’m so sorry. I just…I thought…”

  Oh God. Oh my God. Please don’t say it. Please don’t.

  Hawk thrusts him backward. “You thought wrong. Step the fuck back.”

  I realize how much quieter it suddenly is. Realize those nearest us are watching.

  The boy-man apologizes once more, or tries to, before turning and almost running away.

  Hawk turns to me, looks me over. “All right?”

  I nod quickly. “Can we go?” I want to leave. I want to get out of here. Get away from these people. From all these eyes on us.

  Because if that boy-man knows, if he recognizes me, who else will? Who will ask questions and find out?

  And how long until Hawk finds out?

  “Do you know him?” Hawk asks.

  I shake my head. “Please can we go?” I ask again. “Everyone’s looking.”

  He turns to Axel. “Take her back. I need to stay and handle a few things.”

  Axel nods.

  Hawk turns to me. “Have dinner sent up. Just call the restaurant. They’ll make anything you want.”

  I just nod, knowing I won’t do that. Knowing I won’t be able to eat at all. I’m grateful he won’t be with me. Grateful I’ll have a reprieve from questions, even though that reprieve will be a brief one.

  What I should have done was slapped that boy-man’s hand away myself. Told him he was mistaken. Walked away before the spectacle occurred. But I was wholly unprepared.

  Axel walks me outside and I sit in the back of the sedan to stare out the window. I need to keep it together for a little bit longer. Just until I’m alone. Back at the penthouse. Then I can freak out.

  Then I can fall apart.

  16

  Hawk

  The meeting that should have taken ten minutes takes almost two hours and my attention is split.

  And on top of that, there’s the voicemail from my brother that I should never have listened to. My bastard brother telling me to go to hell. Brandishing his victory.

  He should be more careful. He won a battle. I will win the fucking war.

  When I walked out to tell Melissa that Axel would take her home and found that man beside her, having almost cornered her, when I saw his hand on her, I lost my shit. All I saw was red.

  Rage.

  That idiot boy was touching her.

  And she looked scared shitless. Pale as a ghost. Eyes huge. And fucking terrified.

  The elevator seems to be crawling tonight as it climbs to the penthouse. I wonder if she’s figured out that she can’t leave it without a key yet. That’s why I don’t keep a man on her in the apartment.

  When the doors finally slide open, it’s dark.

  I hit the switch and soft light bathes the large, open room.

  “Melissa?” I call out, glancing around to find her outside on the balcony. She’s sitting with her feet up against the railing, a bottle of vodka by her side, the glass in her hand. The sliding door is closed which explains why she doesn’t hear me.

  I take off my jacket, toss it over the arm of a chair and open the glass door.

  She startles, turns to me.

  I look at her, see the smeared mascara under her eyes, see how her skin is blotchy from crying.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Getting fresh air,” she says. I hear the slur of her words. “I couldn’t go downstairs. You should give me a key to the elevator. I’m a prisoner.”

  “You’re not a prisoner. You just have to call down if you need something.”

  I go out there and pick up the bottle, notice how much she’s emptied. I look down at the city, the people like ants on the street, the constant lights, the sounds muffled a little at this height.

  And I think about the drop and the fact that she’s drunk and shouldn’t be out here.

  “Come inside,” I tell her.

  “I like it out here,” she says, only glancing at me momentarily before returning her gaze to something in the distance.

  “You shouldn’t be out here when you’re drunk.”

  She smiles, looks up at me. “Afraid I’ll hurl myself over?”

  That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking. “Would you?”

  Sadness in her eyes again. That child again. Just for a moment.

  Then she shakes her head. “I’m too chicken for that.
”

  Too chicken to do it.

  Not no, she’d never think of jumping.

  “Come inside now, Melissa.”

  She brings her glass to her mouth, notices it’s empty and looks for the bottle on the table, then realizes I have it. She holds her glass out to me.

  “Inside. Then you can get some more.”

  She mutters something under her breath, stands and immediately stumbles.

  I catch her, mutter a curse myself as I walk her in and close the door.

  She holds her glass out again.

  Instead of pouring for her, I take it from her and set it on the counter.

  “You said I could have more,” she says.

  “I changed my mind. Did you eat?”

  She thinks. “I forgot.”

  I shake my head, take my phone out of my pocket and call down to the restaurant. “Send up a sandwich. I don’t care what. Just make it fast.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she says as I hang up.

  “Our deal, remember? You eat.”

  She rolls her eyes, walks to the counter and takes the bottle.

  I catch her arm. “You’ve had enough.”

  “Get off me.”

  “I said it’s enough.” I relieve her of the bottle.

  “And I say it’s not,” she says, tugging her arm.

  I don’t let her go. “You’re drunk, Melissa. And you will eat something.”

  She exhales audibly, turns away, but again, I don’t let her go.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  “Not nothing. Tell me what it is.”

  “No personal effects.”

  “Yeah, well, now it’s interfering with my time.”

  “Time you bought and paid for.”

  “Yeah. Something like that. I don’t know why you’re so fucking secretive. You knew that man. He spooked you. Why?”

  “None of your business.”

  I tug her close. “Like I said, it became my business when it began to interfere with my time.”