Chapter 151: Money and Anger
- LUCIANO -
Sitting at the table with Rory and her father Will has been entertaining. Will doesn’t like me. I make him uncomfortable. And Rory obviously has some hostility toward her father—something she has no problem displaying in front of me. Although she does shoot me the occasional irritated glare, most of her bristly fire is directed at Will.
Rory reminds me of a little flame that I want to pick up and carry with me like a pet, knowing full well how it intends to burn me if I handle it the wrong way. Or it might just catch me on fire entirely. Both enticing prospects.
"Where is Westin?" Will asks his daughter, and the male name has my eyes narrowing accusingly as if she’s already mine.
"Where is Patty?" She asks in return, short and sharp—a subtle rhetorical jab. God, she’s so fucking sexy.
"She still hasn’t met you girls," he says with a frown of disappointment. "This isn’t the appropriate place. She doesn’t know Dex."
"Westin doesn’t know Dex either," Rory says and then pierces some fruit with her fork before sliding them off with her teeth. Why does that alone make me hard?
I glance around the room, wondering if I shouldn’t find my parents. If Pa needed me, he would have let me know. But sitting here watching Rory eat suddenly feels too indulgent. Irrational thoughts of kidnapping her and locking her in a room away from whoever the hell Westin is are starting to edge their way into my mind.
"We broke up," she says then, glowering at her plate. It’s news that’s meant for her father, but little does she know that just saved her from being carried out of this room over my shoulder. Seriously, I was considering it. It’s the perfect position, because then I can spank her if she misbehaves—something she is guaranteed to do.
"You broke up?" Will’s brows shoot up. "Did this happen in London?"
"Pretty much. He’s moving over there." She glances up at me as if she’s only just realized that I’m listening. Oh, I’m hearing it all, baby, don’t worry. "I don’t want to talk about it, Dad."
After an uneasy silence, Will decides I might be a better conversationalist.
"What do you do, Luciano?"
"I work for my father," I tell him, taking a sip of my drink.
"Oh, what business is he in?"
"Finance."
The answer impresses, as it always does. Will’s eyebrows arch, and he nods.
"That sounds boring," Rory says.
But of course it doesn’t impress the little rebellious flame of mine. That makes her even more perfect in my eyes.
My phone buzzes with a notification from Dex.
"My job is anything but boring," I tell Rory with a wry smile before checking the message.
Dex and Raya have been gone for awhile now. I figured they found a place for that distraction he was talking about earlier, but apparently he found a back door open.
Of course he has. This place is a joke. I told him I should have called some of my guys.
’Raya is with you, right?’ I send back.
When I don’t get a reply immediately, my teeth grind together impatiently. Dex just lost his father. He can’t have something happen to his girl, too.
’Yeah, she’s with me. We’re leaving.’
’Good. I’ll check this place out. See what I can find.’ I text back.
’Raya says the guy in the cemetery was wearing a hat and glasses.’
Well that’s not much to go on. I doubt he would continue to wear a hat and glasses in this place.
"Excuse me," I tell Rory and her father, "I have to take care of some business."
A wave of relief rolls over Will, which I find amusing. I’m not worried about impressing him at all. It’s obvious that he and Rory don’t have a close relationship.
There’s a flicker of something on Rory’s face that passes too quickly for me to interpret. I wish it would have stayed longer for me to catch, but part of the fun is going to be chasing her and uncovering all of those mysteries she keeps inside.
She can be a clever, wicked little mouse if she wants. But she’s still a mouse. Little does she know, I’m a cat. And I like to play.
"Catch you later, beautiful," I say, winking at her and chuckling when she only glares back.
————————
- LAWSON -
Money can buy a lot—all it takes is finding the right person and the right price.
I’m leaning on my rental at a rest stop on the side of the highway leading out of the city, sliding another pill out of the unmarked bottle I was given. For all I know, these could be off the black market. It wouldn’t surprise me. The ’doctor’ treating me probably doesn’t even have a license. But the pain meds work, so I guess that’s all that matters at this point.
I hired a guy yesterday. It didn’t take long. Like I said, money can buy a lot, and so can connections. He’s ex-military, and I’m told he’s good. Quick, quiet, efficient, professional.
I met him a short distance from the country club. He came dressed formally so that he would fit in. I was grateful for that. He’s older than I thought he would be with grey edging his beard, but he’s built even bigger than my brother, so that’s reassuring.
I explained where several of the back entries are and gave him my member card and instructions even though he said he wouldn’t need any of that. Apparently he’s had enough experience with much more dangerous situations than this. He made it seem like this would be a walk in the park, and I sure hope he’s right. All he requested was a picture, and thankfully social media makes that easy.
Now while I’m waiting to hear back from him, I’m staring at the screenshot I sent him of Raya’s profile picture, imagining just how much I’m going to enjoy watching the life slip from her eyes now that I know how much Dex cares about her. It’s her fault all of this is happening. She should have just done the favor she agreed to instead of turning sides. She was supposed to help get my brother out of the company, not get me beaten nearly to death by him.
What is she after? A fucking promotion? I could have easily given her that. I would have—that and more. Maybe I should have made it clearer. Had I known she was capable of all of this, I would have made the terms very lucrative so long as my brother was on the receiving end of all this pain.
There’s another girl in the picture with Raya. Now that I’m looking at it, I wonder if they’re sisters. They don’t look that much alike. Raya has blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and the other girl has brown hair with olive skin and eyes a few shades darker. But there is something really similar about the two—the shape of their faces and lips.
My eyes flick to the time. It’s already been over an hour, and I’m getting restless. How long is this going to take?
A family pulls into the rest stop in their minivan, and I pull my hat back on so that the injuries on my face are at least partially obscured. I hate this feeling—like I’m a predator at a rest stop waiting for my next victim. That’s not who I am. I am well-respected with a reputation.
Angry tears sting my eyes, and I clench my teeth, staring at the phone with Raya’s happy face staring back at me. I’m not a murderer either. I don’t want to be. But I have nothing now. My only out is driving over the border and living some fucking anonymous life down there. I’ve taken out enough money to last me as long as I need, but what am I going to do in Mexico?
My throat feels raw when the anguish rises again, not to mention the marks on my neck that Dex left that aren’t anywhere near healed. I growl to myself and will the self-loathing and pity to leave. I have to hold onto my anger. Money and anger. Those two things are going to help me survive until I can figure out the next step.
My phone rings, and I answer it immediately before trying to decipher who the number belongs to.
"They’re looking for you. They called to check in. You’re coming back, right?"
It’s the doctor, and he sounds terrified. Good. That bastard deserves it.
"If they were going to kill you, they would have done it already," he tells me. "They’re going to make you a deal. But if you run, you’re a dead man. And so am I."
"I’m coming back, don’t worry," I croak out the lie. "It’s just for the funeral. I couldn’t miss it."
"I understand, I understand," he says, relief evident despite the tremor in his words.
"Don’t call me again," I tell him and hang up.
Why the hell are they looking for me? Did someone spot me? I swallow past the pain in my throat. Was it when Raya caught me watching her at the cemetery?
Fuck. This guy I hired better not run into any problems.
The thought crosses my mind to just ditch this plan. As sweet as revenge against Dex sounds—and I am drooling for it at this point—I don’t want to be tied to a chair again. Or worse. It would be much worse this time.
"Ten more minutes," I ground out, staring at my phone. I’ll give this guy ten more minutes. If I don’t hear from him by then, I’m taking off with or without Raya.
