Текст книги "The Bad Boy Arrangement"

Автор книги: Nora Flite

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Without knowing when, I drifted off into darkness

****

Blue tulips filled my dreams. As I sat among them, they tickled my ankles, my eyelids. It was real serenity, a constant, peaceful thumping sound in my ears.

But for some reason, instead of floral, the air smelled like...

Maple and pine.

My lashes fluttered. Around me, plain white walls stretched to the ceiling. Next to me, his heat and heart pulsing away, was Abell. He was naked on top of the blankets, peacefulness making his features gentle.

This was deja vu.

Abell mumbled, shifting beside me. As if woken by my stare, his eyes opened. The room had darkened, his blue centers like sapphires at the bottom of the sea.

Wait. Where had the sun gone? “Did we fall asleep?” I asked, sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Around six.” He pointed at his bedside clock. “Guess we both needed the rest after... well.” Chuckling at how I squirmed, he slid off of the blankets and grabbed his jeans. “Come on. I'll give you a ride home.”

Together we descended the stairs, shuffling into his Ferrari in the garage. He had been right, it was after six and already the sun had set. Buildings glowed around us, the ever present color of the holidays.

We were both quiet, reflecting on what we had done.

Glancing at him, I said, “We never got to talk.”

“We did plenty of talking.”

“No,” I said, fidgeting. “About... us. What we're doing.”

We rolled under an overhang. As we did, Abell was bathed in pure midnight and rich ink, escaping every fragment of light. “We're getting married. I'm making you my wife. What else is there?”

Love.

I didn't have the guts to say it.

Abell pulled up beside my apartment. He didn't cut the engine; I knew he wasn't coming inside. His hands were glued to the wheel, as if he could never let go.

“Well,” I started to say, reaching for my door handle. “I guess I'll see you.”

In such a small space, so close to him, I sensed his energy shift. Abell twisted, reaching out for me so fast that I was stunned. My head hit the window—not painfully, but enough to make a sound.

Abell's kiss was feverish, born from an ache I understood, but wasn't ready to believe in.

Then it was over; he leaned back, breathing heavily. His eyes darted from mine, to my lips, then out the window. “I... have a good night, Nix. See you around.”

See you around? The guy was forcing himself to be disconnected. “Yeah. See you.” Stepping out of the car, I perched in the middle of the sidewalk and looked around. No wind blew, the air was stale and calm.

The city had an empty, quiet feeling to it. Less like the end of the world, and more like I was living in a cocoon.

Did that make me the caterpillar?

And if so...

When this was over with, what would I emerge as?

– Chapter Twelve -

Abell

I watched her vanish into her apartment, just sitting there in my car and... watching.

What is happening to me?

It was insanity, and I knew it. Pure fucking insanity.

I want her.

More than just for a quick fuck, more than just to hear her moan, though that was glorious in its own right.

What I wanted from Nix was deeper. It pulled at me, as if it were a memory coming to the surface. This woman was creating an ache in me that only got worse the longer I let her scratch it.

Slamming my fist against the steering wheel, I gave a hollow laugh. “I'm losing my mind. My entire fucking mind.”

This thing with Nix had shifted from a method to keep my money—and the loose women—into something so much more. I hadn't wanted it to, I hadn't even dreamed it could!

But here I was, sitting outside her apartment, wishing I could find an excuse to go inside and see her again. Just to look at her face, hear her voice.

Was this what love was?

I revved the engine hard, burning rubber as I floored it away. My fingers went to turn the radio on; the missing knob reminded me of how I'd freaked out weeks ago.

Pushing the eject button, I gingerly slid the CD of rock music out. It felt fragile in my hand. The reflective edge bounced the street lights back at me when I twisted it in the air.

If we hadn't met that night... if we hadn't hooked up...

Would any of this be different?

If I'd met Nix for the first time during that meeting, would it have been easier to close off to her? How funny, to think that a simple fling would become the root of my weakness.

Bristling with too many different emotions, I dropped the CD and ripped out my beaten up pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, I pulled into the garage below my apartment. The buzzing of my phone startled me.

Shoving the cigarette to the corner of my lips, I parked the car and clicked the green button on my cell phone. “Hello?”

“Mr. Birch,” a robotic voice crackled. “Do you have a moment?”

Screwing my eyebrows up, I opened the door, stepping into the garage. “That depends, who's calling?”

“Someone with a message.”

Chuckling, I dropped the cigarette, crushing it with my heel. The tobacco just didn't taste as good as it used to. After having Nix, nothing compared. “A message? Is this a prank?”

The voice hissed with distortion. “More like a warning. Walk away from her, and you'll be compensated. Stay with her, and you'll ruin her life.”

Every fiber of my being locked up. “What?”

“You don't have to marry anyone, you'll be free, and with a million dollars in your pocket. Wouldn't it be nice to be your own man, answering to no one—not even your father?”

“Who the hell is this?” I asked, crushing the phone.

“Think about it. You're broken, and deep down, you know you'll destroy her if you stay with her. Why make both of you unhappy? Decide what you want: the money, or to see her heart become black and ruined by your flaws. And if you tell anyone about this phone call, the deal is off. Tread carefully, Mr. Birch.” There was a sharp click, then my phone went silent.

Holding the device at a distance, I just stared. What the fuck was that? They can't be serious. Fury rattled through my bones, the edges of my phone creaking from the pressure.

Who the fuck would DARE threaten to split up me and Nix?

That woman belonged to me. I'd never harm her.

Yet, somehow, those robotic words rung painfully true.

I'd always believed the world was cruel and terrible. Why was I exempt? Fuck, I knew I wasn't special. I was as selfish as anyone.

Was marrying Nix actually going to wreck her heart? Her life?

What's the point in bribing me? Someone had an agenda. They were trying to tempt me into avoiding the marriage, and I had no clue why.

Was it someone I knew?

My skull hurt from all the questions I had. One of them kept fluttering out front like a giant moth: If this marriage made me happy, but shattered her heart in the long run...

Could I really go through with it?

****

I'd chugged every beer I could find in my apartment.

The bottle of brandy that had been under my sink, too.

Distantly, I knew I was being destructive. These were old habits—or sort of old. It had been barely a month since I'd met Nix, could a man really change himself in that amount of time?

I don't need to change.

I never could have, anyway.

My phone sat on my coffee table. I eyeballed it as I paced. It might as well have been a loaded gun.

Who fucking called me?

What the hell do I do?

Since my mother had died, the only person I'd ever relied on was myself. Nix had started to slip inside my ribs, dangerously close to my heart, but... I couldn't talk to her. Not until I came to some sort of conclusion about what to do.

Marrying her could ruin her.

But running could do the same.

Baring my teeth, I jammed my knuckles into the wall. The plaster exploded; I was lucky as hell I didn't hit a stud. Shaking my hand, ignoring the smear of blood from the broken skin, I took a swig from the empty brandy bottle.

“Shit,” I said to the air. “I need more alcohol.” This edge had to be drowned. The stress that boiled in my veins was heating me up, and not in a good way. I have to get out of here, I need to just... just move around.

I needed to escape.

My bare skin was sweating, I'd ripped my shirt off after I'd spilled beer on it. Stumbling into my bedroom, I grabbed the first shirt I could find in the dark. I slid it on, my jacket following as I stumbled out the door.

More booze, I thought, slapping my arms to ward off the cold. Alcohol would warm me, just as it would erase my concerns. There was no better friend than a full bottle.

It was late, the winter clouds bloated and dark. The air that bit me warned of snow. Along the street, shops had decorated their awnings with red and green lights. The cheerful glow guided me into the first bar I could find.

I didn't even read the name.

Distantly, I knew what I was doing. I knew it as the scent of stale margaritas and filthy bathrooms hit me. I probably knew it before then, actually.

It wasn't just a blackout drunkeness that I needed. My cures involved soft tits and muscled thighs around my middle. That'd hurt her.

What, did I have a conscience suddenly?

You always did.

I had to shut my inner thoughts up with more booze. Sitting at the bar with my skull pounding, I waved the bartender closer. “Give me something hard.”

He didn't hesitate, he slid me a thick mug filled with amber liquid. I chugged the glass; it didn't matter what it was, it wasn't about taste—just the numbness.

She'll be ruined by me if I go through with this.

Her...

And the baby.

No, there was a chance I could be a good father. Fuck that chance, how could I rely on that possibility? How could I ever keep going if Nix... and my child... if their lives were tainted because of me?

Growling, I dug my injured hand into my knee. Stop thinking about it.

Stop thinking about them.

Picturing Nix just made everything worse.

“Hey, never expected to see you again.”

Turning, I studied the blonde woman. She had on a sparkly, skin-tight dress, completely inappropriate for the weather. A Try-Hard, I thought distantly. I hadn't had one of those in forever. Wait. Blinking, I recognized the woman speaking to me. “You're Trish, right?” The girl we rescued during the music concert.

Laughing, she took a deep pull from her drink. “Yup. Funny, I didn't think the notorious Abram Birch remembered the names of any women.”

My guts contorted as if razor-wire had been wound through them. She wasn't wrong; the list of women I'd forgotten was a long one.

Twisting my palm through my hair, I forced an empty smile. “That's only girls I sleep with. Not the ones I save.”

Her eyes twinkled, hip cutting a sharp angle as she leaned closer. “Ah. You know, I didn't even recognize who you were that night in the park.”

“Well, you had just been attacked.”

Trish paused, her eyes hooding. “It was a strange night. I was lucky that girl came along.”

That girl. “Nix,” I said. “Her name is Nix.”

She pursed her lips, considering me with fresh eyes. “You know her name? Guess you didn't sleep with her after all. I figured you would.”

It should have been obvious before. Somehow, it took Trish saying it to drive the point home.

I didn't forget Nix's name.

My heart was jolted, electricity running through my tongue.

I didn't forget her!

In all my life, that had never happened. Women came and went through my bedroom. They left their panties, they left hickies, but not until now had any of them left a memory.

Only her.

Only Nix Halloway.

“Nice shirt,” Trish said, fingering the edge of the garment's neck.

That was when I looked down, realizing what I'd put on in my near panic. The shirt she bought for me. In a daze, I ran my palm over the front of it. The red color made the cuts on my knuckles stand out vibrantly. That day rushed back to me; the flower shop, the tulips, the admission to Nix about making her jealous...

The ice cream we'd sat and ate together.

All of it stole my oxygen until I was light headed.

“So,” Trish purred, sliding her fingers over my shoulder. “Do you want to go back to your place, or mine?”

I stood up too fast, the bar stool went toppling. Trish backed up a step, her confusion turning her pale. “Sorry,” I said, slamming money down on the bar. “I can't do that.”

Laughing self-consciously, she tossed her hair. “Why not?”

“Because I'm about to be a married man.”

Trish stammered, but she said nothing else as I marched out that door and back into the dark night. Oddly enough, it wasn't that cold anymore. Or perhaps that was just the energy burning in my blood.

Digging my phone out, I scanned my recent calls as I walked. There, that one. Redialing the number, I listened to the ringing.

“Hello again,” the robotic voice said.

My breath was like a dragon's fiery steam. “Fuck you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said fuck you.” Something wet tickled my forehead. “I don't know who you are, but you can't force me to stay away from Nix. Money, threats, it doesn't matter. That woman is mine, do you hear me? Mine!”

There was a long pause on the line. “You're making a mistake.”

“The only mistake I made was listening to your offer.”

Slamming the phone closed, I endured the pounding of my ears. Alcohol had left me disoriented, but my determination and rage had cleansed me.

The world was bright again.

Once more, something cold bit at my skin. Water dripped down my arm, burning at the cuts healing on my hand. Looking up into the black sky, I shut my eyes and inhaled.

It had started to snow.

– Chapter Thirteen -

Nix

The number of missed calls from Abell glowed at me.

“Something on your mind?” the caterer in front of me asked.

Poking at the food sample on my plate, I smiled half-heartedly. “Kind of. It's nothing, really.”

She nodded, clearly not caring about my personal issues.

I shouldn't have to waste time with this, I thought in frustration. My mother had informed me that Corin Birch had been serious at his party, he'd insisted on arranging a reception for his friends and business partners after my ceremony.

I had an unsettling feeling he wanted to parade me around.

“Which entree do you like?” she prodded me. “So far you've tried the lemon chicken, fried chicken, herb chicken, roast chicken...”

The woman rambled on until it all blurred together. Scanning the long table covered in plates, I coughed. “Uh, they're all great.” How many kinds of chicken ARE there?

My phone buzzed again. Peeking down, I saw the text message:

Abell: Call me back. I need to see you.

The itch to contact him—hear his voice—was massive. Playing with the edge of my phone, I fidgeted. I can't do it here, I'll wait until I leave, then—

In my hand, my phone began to vibrate. Every chamber of my heart copied that sensation, coming alive with expectation. I couldn't resist any longer.

“Excuse me,” I said, pressing the phone to my ear. “I have to take this.”

But it wasn't Abell.

“Nix,” Gram said, the instant I answered. “We need to meet up and talk.”

I leaned forward, cupping my hand around for privacy. “What's wrong?”

“Just meet me in twenty minutes, the coffee shop on Brentwood.” The severity in his tone wasn't subtle. Something was up, and when it came to Gram, if he thought it was serious...

I did, too.

“I'll be there,” I said. The catering woman stared at me, probably wishing she could stuff the chicken down my throat. I ignored her. “See you.” Clicking my phone, I faced her with the most apologetic smile I had in my arsenal. “Listen, I need to go.”

Her mouth went frog-like in its shape. “But the chicken!”

“Right, yeah.” I pointed without looking, jumping to my feet. “That one, that was the best.”

“That—that's an empty plate!”

Shoving through the door, I shouted, “Fine! The last one you mentioned!”

I didn't care about a damn chicken.

My brother was waiting for me.

****

Busting through the jingling door, I was hit by a wave of heat. The coffee shop was toasty, a sharp contrast to the winter world outside. Snow had fallen last night, blanketing the city in a cap of frosty white.

I didn't need to look hard to find Gram; he was standing in a booth to my left, waving an arm rapidly.

Waving back, I jogged over to him. “Hey!” I said, “There you are! What's the big emergency? I was in the middle of some major chicken eating, and I think I might have picked empty plates for the reception.”

I was smiling, but Gram was pale. “Sit down, Nix.”

Warily, I settled into the seat across from him. “Okay. I don't like this. What's wrong, Gram?”

Leaning towards me, he shoved his shoulders high. “You have to back out of the wedding.”

Trying to digest his words, I ended up staring blankly at his face.

“Nix?”

I blinked, still working through his comment. “Sorry, say that again.”

Exasperated, he grabbed my hands on the table. “Focus! I said you can't go through with this! It's wrong. He's wrong for you.”

Shaking myself, I said, “You called me here to tell me that?” Laughing without humor, I bent closer. “Gram, final hour much? The wedding is in two days.”

He gripped my fingers tighter, voice lowering, but his intensity was the same. “Listen to me, Nicky. I'm warning you, wearing that ring is going to ruin your life.”

I pulled my hands away, uncertainty cracking my nervous smile. “The guy is kind of a mess, yeah, but you don't know him. Not like I do.”

“You think you know him?” Crinkling his brow, he took a deep breath.

Doubt crept along my neck. “What, what is it?”

Gram hung his head. “He isn't loyal to you, Nix.”

Pushing my lips together, I buzzed them. “Pssshh. What are you talking about?”

“Last night, Abell went out drinking.” As he talked, my heart turned cold—heavy. “He was with someone. Nix, he... he's not any different. He's the player you thought he was.”

“No.” The word went free-falling from my lips. Inside, my mind battled with my intuition. Abell wouldn't do that to me. Under the table, I grabbed at my stomach protectively. We have something, he's changed, he... “How,” I said, licking my lips. “How do you know he did this?”

Lifting his phone, Gram waved it. “Someone sent me a photo.”

Around me, the room began to go blurry. “Who?”

“I don't know, I didn't recognize the number and they never responded to my texts.”

“Show me.”

“Nix—”

“Show me.”

Reluctantly, Gram placed the phone on the table between us. I reached out, and we both saw my hand was quivering. Flicking the screen on, I stared blankly at the image before me.

It was fuzzy, the lighting was poor, but I had no doubt.

That was Abell.

And there was Trish.

It stunned me that I remembered who she was. What is she doing with him? A million excuses ran through my head, stomping away until my skull was rioting. “Why?” I asked softly, unable to look away.

“Why did he do it? Because he's a piece of shit, Nix! The guy never cared about you, he just wanted to have his cake and eat it, too.”

I studied the photo, working to grasp any clue that it wasn't what it looked like. He wouldn't do this to me. Especially not with the possibility of a pregnancy! “I have to talk to him.”

Gram sat up straight, grabbing the phone from me. I held it for a second, then released. “Nix, no. You're going to get hurt.”

“I already am hurt!” The rage in my tone shocked me. Gram was stunned as well. “What am I supposed to do? Walk away like you're telling me to? I'll lose everything—you'll lose everything!”

Closing his eyes, Gram shook his head. “You don't need this company, Nicky. You can do other things.”

“Like what?” I scoffed.

“Anything! You're amazing, I don't think Gabby or Dad could run that place without you!”

My ears were ringing, that photo stamped in my mind's eye. “And you? What about my promise to make your life better?”

“It doesn't matter. I'm quitting.”

My jaw dropped, nails digging into the table cloth. “What?”

His smile was as frail as a snowflake. “I'm taking myself out of the equation. Don't worry about me, Nix. Worry about you, for once in your life.”

“If you leave, you'll be giving up a job you love!”

“What I loved was working with you. The rest of the job can take a hike.” His grin was playful, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Clutching my hair, I whispered, “I'm so confused. I need to understand how he could do this.” How he could abandon me... and his potential child.

Jumping to my feet, I went to leave. Gram's hand stopped me. “Nicky, please. Don't give him the pleasure of your time. Just walk away. Isn't that possible?”

With sorrow on my tongue, I whispered, “Not for me.”

His thumb pressed into my skin, not painfully, just to hold my attention. “Stop sacrificing yourself for everyone, Nix.”

“I'm not.” Tightness crept up my throat.

“You are. It's your biggest flaw.”

Bending down, I wrapped him in a hug so fierce it stole the air from both our lungs. “Gram, I promise that I'll make this work for both of us. Okay? Trust me.”

“I do trust you. That's what makes me so worried. You'll find a way to help, you always have, and it's going to be at your expense.”

Letting him go, I turned away as fast as I could. Maybe he's right. Is all of this going to hurt me somehow?

Fuck it. I was already hurt.

I needed answers.

Abell was the only one who had them.