My Cruel Lover (Wicked Poison Book 3)

by T. L Smith

He throws his head back and laughs. No one annoys him. They know better. He throws these little soirées to gain their trust. He needs their confidence so they will delegate business his way, and while his mandate might be one of confidence, Archie needs to ensure these people know their anonymity is of paramount importance to him.

  It’s one of the reasons Rylee would never want August to attend.

  Everyone who attends these events belongs in prison, and August has already been inside. Therefore, if something did go wrong, he would be thrown back inside, and that’s not something Rylee is prepared for.

  Plus, there’s pussy.

  Fuck, there’s so much pussy here.

  Rylee would not want August anywhere near this shit.

  My phone starts ringing in my pocket, but I ignore it as Archie keeps on pointing out women who he thinks will interest me.

  “The best way to get over someone is to get under another. Surely, you have heard that saying?” Archie keeps going on and on.

  My phone rings again, so I eventually pull it out of my pocket to two missed calls from Jacinta and a few from Rylee. Before I can put it back, Archie’s phone starts ringing, and he shows me the screen before he answers with, “Favorite sister. When are you going to leave your boy toy and run away with me?” he says, smiling. Then his face drops, and he hands me the phone. “You should probably take that.”

  I give him a puzzled look and take the phone from him.

  “Beckham. Beckman, can you come? Now?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Oliver is missing, and Jacinta is a mess. I can’t calm her down.” I hear a scream in the background and then Rylee whispers, “Please come. I don’t know what to do.”

  As I pass the phone back to Archie, he stands. “What’s going on?” He takes his phone and slides it back into his pocket. “Do you need me to do anything?”

  “No, just …” I look around and reach in my pocket for my keys, then look back at him. “Maybe … I’ll let you know.”

  “Do you want me to drive?” I hear him say as I walk toward my car.

  “No.” I don’t know if he hears me, but I don’t really care as I get in my car and go straight to her.

  Cars are parked out front of Rylee and August’s home. I spot Glenn straight away, his hands on his hips in his uniform—he means business.

  “Beckham,” Glenn says my name, and August, who is standing with him, turns to face me.

  “What happened?” My gaze flickers to the house as the front door opens, and I see Jacinta standing there, her eyes red and puffy.

  “Anderson is unreachable. His mother picked Oliver up from school today …” August says.

  Jacinta makes her way closer to me, and I take a few steps in her direction. Once we reach each other, I pull her in. She grabs hold of my shirt. Jacinta is sobbing. I can feel her chest going up and down as she breathes heavily, but her voice is silent.

  “You haven’t tracked her down yet?” I ask, my eyes flicking to Glenn, who’s watching us interact.

  His eyes lift to mine. “No. We have applied for a warrant, but it takes time. And so far, the child isn’t listed as in danger, just with his grandparent.”

  “She stole him,” I state categorically.

  “Anderson was with her, so technically, his father did,” Glenn replies.

  I rub her back. “I can find them.”

  Her sobbing stops, and she pulls back to look at me. They all go silent and focus solely on me.

  “How can you find them?” August asks.

  I ignore him and look directly into Jacinta’s sad eyes. The hurt punches me in my chest like a bullet going straight through from seeing her like this. So damn broken.

  I like her.

  A lot.

  I always knew that fact.

  But now? Now I know it.

  “I can find them,” I repeat, pulling my phone out of my pocket and stepping away so Glenn can’t hear me speaking. Jacinta stays where she is, her hands hugging her body as I call Archie.

  “I need you to track this car and number.”

  Archie doesn’t ask any questions. He has one of the best hackers I’ve ever had the good fortune of meeting on his books. He’s so competent, even the authorities haven’t found out about him yet. I hear him talking with his accomplice, and not more than a few minutes later, I hear, “Found him. Texting you the address.”

  As soon as the address comes through, I hang up, walk to my car and get in. Just as I am about to pull out onto the road, my passenger side door opens, and August slides into the seat.

  “Rylee will kill you.”

  “Drive,” he barks, and so I do.

  August should have killed Anderson, and right now, I bet he wishes he had.

  “You’re joking, right?” August asks as we come up to Anderson’s childhood home. “Jacinta came here. The police came here,” August says.

  “It’s where my source says he is, and believe me, he will be right.” I get out, and August follows.

  “Fuck, I hate him,” August grumbles.

  A car pulls in behind us, and I see Archie get out and lean against it, his gun casually held in his hand against his thigh as he smirks at us.

  “You sure you know what you’re doing?” August questions, referring to Archie.

  “Always.” And it’s true, I am always in control.

  The only person I seem to lose control with is her.

  Even with Paige, I was always in control, always on my game.

  But Jacinta, well, she’s different.

  Looking at the house, you would think no one is home, but then, just the slightest movement from behind a blind gives the game away.

  “Kick it in or knock?” August asks with a smirk.

  I walk to the front door and kick hard. It flies open on the first try. As soon as we step inside, there he is, flying to his feet.

  “Anderson,” August growls, and Anderson’s eyes flick to August, then back to me.

  “You kicked my door in,” Anderson says in disbelief.

  “Where the fuck is Oliver?” I demand.

  “Isn’t he with his mother?” Anderson says, but the smile gives it away.

  You can’t fix stupid.

  Anderson is the definition of stupid. If you could look it up in the dictionary next to his name would be the words ‘a stupid moron.’

  “Look, last chance before I smash your fucking face in.”

  Anderson just laughs. “You …” he eyes me up and down, “… would never want to get yourself dirty,” he says, then turns his attention to August. “If the threat came from you—” I don’t let him finish. Two steps, and my boot meets his face. When I pull my foot away, his face is coated in blood, and he is flat out on the floor.

  “Do you ever learn?” August says.

  “How dare you.” We hear a screech and turn to see Anderson’s mother standing there with Oliver in front of her. Her hands possessively clutch him.

  But what gets to me is the fact she has Oliver positioned in front of her. Is that for her protection? That she would use a child for her own personal security as a safeguard against getting hurt?

  “You come into my house and assault my son?”

  “Oliver,” August says. “Your mom is missing you. You want to go home?”

  Oliver nods his head fast and goes to move, but she holds him in position.

  “That can’t happen. We are all getting to know one another. Oliver wants to stay with us.”

  “No, he does not. Now, remove your hands from him,” August warns.

  I slowly move until I am behind Anderson, who is still on the floor, clutching his nose.

  “I think it’s best you listen to August,” I tell her, and her dead eyes fall to me. I reach forward and give Anderson’s nose a kick, making him scream in the process.

  “Don’t you think your family has done enough to ruin our lives already? This is my grandson. I will be keeping him.”

  “He is not your son. And if y
ou wish for your son to see his next birthday, you will remove your hand from Oliver so he can go to August.” I raise my hand again, her eyes fall to her son, and she lets Oliver go. As soon as August has him, he leads Oliver outside. I wait until they’re gone before I reach for Anderson, pulling him up by his shirt.

  “Archie is outside with a gun. He is ready to come in here as soon as I leave,” I seethe in his face.

  His eyes go wide at the mention of Archie’s name. “I had nothing to do with it. It was all her crazy idea. She told me I had to do it.”

  “You really are a sack of shit, aren’t you? A worthless, gullible, imbecilic piece of shit.”

  He doesn’t say anything in return.

  “Drop him.” I feel something sharp touch my side.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn.

  “You obviously do not know the lengths I will go to to protect my son.”

  “And you obviously don’t know me,” I reply, as the click of a gun being cocked sounds close by. I hear the knife drop to the floor, and Anderson looks at Archie, who’s casually standing in the doorway, gun at his side and a smirk on his face as he takes in the scene in front of him.

  “Thought you were taking your sweet ass time,” he says.

  “It wouldn’t be appropriate to hit a woman, would it?” I ask, pushing Anderson back to his couch and hitting his broken nose one last time for good measure.

  Damn asshole.

  “I can keep a secret ... so if you want, go at it.” Archie grins.

  I turn to face Anderson’s mother, and her eyes are now wide with fear. I lean in until I am a hair’s breadth away from her. “You come near Jacinta or Oliver again … I may just let Archie use his gun on you. Because you know …” I wipe my hands on my suit, “… I don’t want to get my hands dirty with scum like you.”

  Chapter 23

  Jacinta

  The relief to have him in my arms, holding me with his little hands wrapped around my waist, is indescribable.

  He is my life.

  I love him more than life itself.

  Everything I do, I do for Oliver.

  We stay like that, him cuddling me, until Oliver pulls away, smiling.

  “Can I play with Winter now, Mom?”

  I nod, wiping my tears away as Shandy comes and sits next to me on the porch. She pulls me in with a one-arm hug and squeezes. “You’ll be all right. You got this.”

  And I believe her.

  I do.

  “What do you plan to do about the Beckham situation?” she asks.

  August came back with Oliver in Beckham’s car but without Beckham. I didn’t ask questions because I was so happy to see Oliver home safely.

  Fine with not a scratch.

  Healthy.

  Happy.

  I simply wanted to love on him.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

  “Well, you two have had something going on for a while now. Do you plan to continue that? Will you be happy being an every-now-and-then lover?”

  “No,” I say truthfully.

  “I didn’t think so, and I’m afraid that’s all you may ever be to that man. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s different with you than any of the others he’s fucked. But Beckham is almost incapable of affection or love.” She pauses then takes a deep breath. “Unless you are his family or a friend. Are you friends?”

  “I don’t even know the answer to that question.”

  It’s true. I’m not sure what we are. And I stopped assuming in relationships after Anderson. You know, considering he was already in one and got me knocked up.

  “Well, it seems our boy has arrived.” Shandy stands and heads inside.

  Beckham gets out of the car, and Archie nods to me before he drives away. It’s dark, and the street light shines on him as he strides up the driveway toward me. Even though his eyes are as dark as a stormy night, I can feel his gaze penetrate me. Soaking into my bones.

  “He’s home,” is the first thing Beckham says.

  “Thank you,” I say in reply. Standing, I reach out and wrap my arms around his neck. He doesn’t hold me back at first, simply lets me hold onto him, and I’m thankful that he does.

  A few seconds in, his hands come around my waist and he clutches me to him, so close I feel all of him.

  I pull back, knowing what I need to do. Closing my eyes, taking a deep breath, and then opening them again, I say breathlessly, “I think we should stop seeing each other.” He would have heard the words croak as they left my mouth.

  The doubt as I said them.

  The undeniable uncertainty they scream.

  But I mean each and every word.

  I need to focus on Oliver and me.

  Just the two of us for now.

  “Your focus is on you and your work. And as you said before, I’m just a fuck. I need to focus on Oliver, so something like this can never happen again,” I tell him.

  He still hasn’t spoken.

  Not one single word.

  “Beckham.”

  We turn to Oliver, who’s at the door. He runs down the steps and into Beckham’s arms. Beckham’s eyes find mine, his mouth in a thin line, he’s breathing deeply.

  “Winter said I wasn’t allowed to play on her Xbox again,” Oliver says, pulling back.

  “Of course you are,” he replies.

  “Okay, I have to tell her that.” Oliver runs off back inside with a smile on his face.

  “I …”

  Do I take my words back?

  I know he sees the hesitation in my eyes.

  When I turn back to him, the look in those dark eyes is going to haunt me, of that I am sure. They will give me nightmares for years to come—dreams that will be impossible to stay away from.

  He bites his lip, his two top teeth pulling as he studies me.

  Why is he such an asshole?

  My eyebrows pull together.

  Why do I want him so much?

  My jaw clenches.

  Even when I know I shouldn’t, I still need and want him.

  “You made your bed. Now you have to lie in it,” he replies, and the smirk that follows is cruel. Oh, so cruel.

  Why does he have to be my cruel lover?

  My head hangs, while a pained expression shows on my face. I simply can’t help it. So I take a step toward him, but he shakes his head and steps back, not wanting me anywhere near him.

  Well, that hurts more than I care to admit.

  But I’m someone who’s familiar with hurt. It’s basically my middle name. A stray tear leaves my eye and runs down my cheek.

  Beckham’s watching me with those dark storm-ridden eyes, but he hasn’t walked away yet. Yet, being the operative word.

  “I …” I’m at a loss for any words to give him. How can you tell someone you think you love that it’s simply not going to work? Especially after you told them you no longer want them and that it will never work.

  Not only because we were never right for each other in the first place, but because I’m too broken to want his love.

  Oliver is all I need.

  Or so I keep telling myself.

  Beckham has proved time and time again how fucked up we are together. It just took time for me to see that fact as well.

  “We were never official. You are my employee, and that’s how it will stay,” he says deadpan.

  How has a year passed that I have been working for him? A year of ups and downs and cruel words followed by touches that make me forget everything in my world around me. Every word that leaves his mouth can be led away with one single touch.

  We were never exclusive—that was made perfectly clear.

  Just something that happened.

  Something that kept on happening despite us trying to stop it.

  We should have stopped it.

  He’s my source of confidence, but also for my self-loathing. And I stand here helplessly in the night as I watch him walk away. Knowing full well, I have caused my o
wn hurt, my own devastation.

  Even if I know it’s for the best.

  I will not be that girl again. I will not be someone’s second choice or fuck buddy.

  But even more so, I can’t be with him because he still loves Paige.

  I want to be someone’s first.

  I deserve to be someone’s first.

  I want someone to look at me and see only me. Not wish they were seeing the person they really want to be with. Be the touches they crave and wish were someone else’s.

  I will not be that girl again.

  “He left?” Rylee asks, standing in the doorway. She watches her brother pull away, his car the only noise that can be heard in the distance. “I have made you up a bed. You should stay the night. Oliver has climbed into his bed and is almost asleep.”

  “Did you hear?” I ask.

  She looks down to the floor. “I heard enough.”

  “Do you think what I did was stupid?”

  “I think it’s up to you who you choose to give your heart to. No one else should be a factor in that decision.”

  Charges were pressed, but I don’t know if they will stick. Anderson’s father has been a great help, and he assists me where he can. And because of that, I am letting him pick Oliver up next week instead of going to afterschool care.

  I simply don’t trust that Anderson’s mom won’t come back and try something like that again.

  And Beckham? Well, it’s been almost a week, and he’s barely said two words to me. He barks orders, then he disappears. That’s the extent of our interactions.

  Friday afternoon, I have to stop at the restaurant to meet Noah to sign some more paperwork, and when I arrive, I see Beckham sitting with a female opposite him. She leans in and smiles at what he says, her body language indicating she likes what she sees.

  I know that look only too well.

  I like what I see too.

  I scan the room to check if there’s a way around them, but it’s impossible. I will have to walk directly past them. Not looking their way, I walk by their table and try not to look in his direction. It’s hard when I can feel his eyes on me, soaking me in.

  “Jacinta.”

  I stop. My heels halting me at the sound of his voice.

  “Do you plan to ignore me?”