Conveniently Convicted

by Ivy Asher

  “Sunrise, listen to me—”

  “No, you need to be listening to me! I care about you, and I won’t let you risk your life for me. Get the fuck out of here!” I exclaim, wincing when I hear how loud I’m being.

  Shit. I have no idea how long we have, but someone is bound to hear me if I don’t quiet the fuck down.

  Scrambling over to the window, I pull the drapes back to see what floor we’re on and if Rook can get out this way, but I go still as I’m met by pine trees everywhere. Are we in a fucking tree house? I shake away the stunned stupor and start looking for a latch somewhere on this wall of windows.

  “Come on, come on,” I say in a panic, my hands grazing over the glass in my desperation to find a way to open it.

  “Sinclair!” Rook suddenly shouts, and I turn on him with crazed eyes and leap at him, covering his mouth with my hand. Stupid bastard! I look around and try to listen to see if anyone is coming.

  “Are you fucking nuts?” I whisper-yell. “Were you born without a survival instinct? I know you don’t know who he is, but Alpha Bowen will fucking kill you. I wouldn’t be able to come back from that. It would destroy me. Please, Rook…” I beg, my voice cracking with emotion. “If you care about me at all, you will leave right now.”

  Rook grabs my wrist and forces my hand away from his mouth, while his other hand comes down to hold my hip. “Sinclair, it’s you who doesn’t know who Alpha Bowen is. I get that you have some preconceived notions about him. It’s understandable. Cockatrices love gossip almost as much as they love a good rock. But—”

  I slice my hand through the air, cutting him off. What is he talking about? Why isn’t he taking this seriously? I step back from him and shake my head.

  Wait... How the hell did he get in here in the first place?

  My mind races as I try to make sense of what’s going on. I take Rook in, really looking at him for the first time since my blindfold was lifted. He’s not in the prison guard’s uniform that I’m used to seeing him in. His shirt is white and crisp, his slacks are ash gray and creased. He doesn’t look like someone who broke into a house to rescue the girl he loves from the big bad monster alpha.

  Rook holds his hands out, and I can see the wait, it’s not what you think on his lips. My face scrunches up in disgust. “You work for him?” I ask, my eyes screaming betrayal and my voice wobbly with disbelief.

  “What? No!” Rook declares, and I’m instantly confused again.

  “What the hell is going on then? Are you here to rescue me or hand me over?” I demand, my voice suddenly reaching dolphin-level octaves as I grow a smidge hysterical.

  Rook’s eyes turn pleading, and he takes a step toward me. My body reacts instinctively, and I reach out to take his outstretched hands before I realize what I’m doing. I yank my hands out of his and back up a step.

  “Explain without touching me. My body apparently can’t be trusted,” I admit.

  He gives me a small, dimple-filled smile, and my brain gives a dreamy sigh against my will.

  Goddamn dimples.

  “Sunrise. I’m absolutely here to rescue you,” he tells me with conviction.

  Relief floods me.

  “And I’m also here to hand you over,” he adds, and it’s like he just poured ice water all over my relief but then set it on fire just to fuck with me.

  I open my mouth to yell at him, but he cuts me off.

  “Sinclair, my name is Rook Bowen.”

  My mind hits the brakes so hard that a screech and the smell of burning rubber fills my head and nose. I fucked my future mate’s brother? Well, shit. Now Alpha Bowen is going to kill us both.

  Rook narrows his turquoise eyes at the expression on my face. “Why do I still feel like you’re not getting it?”

  “Oh, I get it. Your psycho brother is going to take us both out. What the hell were you thinking?” I snap.

  “What?” Rook replies, and I feel like my mind is going to explode. I’m getting really fucking tired of feeling confused. He shakes his head at me. “No, Sinclair. I am Alpha Bowen.”

  I blink at him.

  He...I’m...what?

  My mind stutters to a stop. Just puts on the E-brake and leaves me there to idle.

  I stare at him. He stares at me. I can’t process it. It’s like my brain-computer crashed. I just see that white unfinished circle that indicates that things are loading, only nothing ever does. I need to be rebooted or something.

  “Sinclair?”

  I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair—my hair that’s currently blinking from color to color, like even my strands are confused as fuck and don’t know what to do. I realize numbly that my hands are trembling.

  I shake my head and drop my hand. “You...you can’t be Alpha Bowen. He’s an evil, conniving prick who goes around claiming lounges because he’s a power-hungry douche.”

  Rook grimaces. “People say all kinds of shit about me. You’ll have to make up your mind about all of that. But I am Alpha Bowen,” he repeats, his eyes wary even though his tone is firm, like he wants to make sure there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s telling the truth.

  Suddenly, the stop sign that my brain’s been stuck at implodes. Everything rushes up as the shocking realization of what he’s telling me comes flooding through me like a dam bursting.

  A choked, strangled noise bursts out of my throat that sounds like a mortifying sob-hiccup.

  Rook and I both freeze. We stare at each other with wide shocked eyes. His are asking, Did that ungodly noise just come from you? While mine are saying, I don’t want to talk about it.

  No, Sinclair! Just no. Not happening. I will not cry. I will rage and I will rant, but I will not weep. I have a god-awful ugly cry, and I am not letting it out.

  Despite my inner knock it off talk to myself, my eyes grow blurry. I try not to blink so that nothing spills over. I need to get mad. Not sad. I need to fucking tear into him. I need to—

  Hiccup!

  Fuck.

  Rook’s eyes widen as he sees my eyes completely overrun with tears. “Shit,” he curses. “Don’t cry, Sinclair. Please don’t cry.”

  Why is it that when someone tells you not to cry, it just makes you cry harder?

  There’s just no containing it now. As if Rook spoke the magic words to release the kraken—which is what I like to call my inner sobbing mess—I start to uncontrollably bawl. My face scrunches up like a used tissue, saltwater runs down my face like a leaky aquarium, and machine gun hiccups fire from my throat.

  “You—hiccup—liar!” I cry, painful lumps getting stuck in my chest as bubbles of sobs wrench out of me.

  Rook looks at me in terror, like he has no idea how to fix this. “Fuck. No, no, no, no, no,” he coos and soothes as he pulls me toward a dark gray sectional. He sits and pulls me onto his lap. My hot mess, sniveling self just goes with it because I’m too overwhelmed to function.

  “Why are you crying?” he asks softly and that just makes me cry even harder.

  “I’m so relieved and...so pissed. This is what you get!” I tell him, gesturing to my face and the red splotchy swollen mess that I know it’s turning into. “I didn’t know how I was going to do this, but it’s you…” I add, trailing off.

  He wraps his arms around me, and my bawling is so out of control that I don’t fight it as he pulls my cheek to his chest to help comfort me. My body molds against his warmth and strength as he holds me. His hands rub up and down my back in a soothing gesture as I try to come to terms with everything.

  “I’m not sure how to handle this, Sunrise. I was expecting you to be pissed. To attack me with a hidden shank or some shit. Not...this.”

  “Oh, I’m furious,” I assure him as I cling to him and weep. “And—hiccup—when my emotions get under control, I will absolutely be plotting for your death,” I tell him with complete seriousness.

  He lets out a puff of breath. “I’m so sorry, Sunrise.”

  “How the hell did you become a guard?” I dema
nd, my uncontrollable tears and snot getting all over his shirt, but since my current state is his fault, I give no fucks.

  “Easy,” he says with a shrug, his fingers inching up to toss my hair away from my face and run circles over my nape. “I paid the hiring officer off.”

  “But I asked around about you,” I argue.

  “More bribes.”

  “But...the paperwork. I saw your hiring date and your reviews,” I cry, my voice more of a whine than I’d like.

  I feel his shoulder lift in another shrug. “Forged to make it look like I worked there longer.”

  “You—hiccup—motherfucker.”

  He starts to chuckle, and I smack him on the stomach to shut him up. He is not allowed to laugh right now. Rook lets out a little cough and wisely cuts off his amusement.

  Pulling back, I look up at his face. I want to see his eyes when I ask my next question. “Why?”

  He takes a breath and works his jaw for a moment, like this is the question he’s been dreading. “I intended to take you that first day. I was pissed that you kept evading my attempts at breaking you out. I was going to show you that you couldn’t win against me. That I could take you and there was nothing you could do about it. And then I was going to call your lounge out for breach of contract and let your debtors handle you.”

  Wariness fills my gaze and a clamp of fear twists my gut. “But…?”

  His eyes flicker over my face. “But...then the first time we met, you smacked me with a cafeteria tray.”

  “Should’ve hit you harder,” I grumble.

  The corner of his mouth hitches up. “It was an impressive hit.”

  Pulling out of his arms, I wipe my face and get up, taking a few steps away to give myself some distance. “So...what? I clocked you over the head with a piece of plastic, and you were smitten?”

  “Something like that,” he says. “My cockatrice liked you immediately.”

  “You sure it wasn’t your other beast that starts with c-o-c-k?” I fire back.

  He smiles, flashing those stupidly perfect dimples at me. “That too.”

  Sighing, I run a hand over my tired face. I feel like I could sleep for a month and still need more time to process everything. “I’m so mad at you, Rook,” I say quietly.

  “Tell me what to do,” he says vehemently. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

  I believe him. “You lied to me. I thought…” I swallow past a lump of emotion that I’m still contending with. “I thought I was never going to see you again. And I was so damn mad at you for what happened in my cell—”

  He’s in front of me in a blink, grabbing hold of my arms. “I’m so fucking sorry, Sinclair. I wanted to fucking kill them, but I knew if I blew my cover, that it would blow up in my face, and I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to see you again, that you wouldn’t have anyone watching your back if I was gone. You have no idea how much it killed me to watch them do that to my mate.”

  My startled eyes fly up to him. “I’m not your mate.”

  He cocks his head, once more bringing up his hand to grasp my jaw. “You are. And not even because of some contract that your matriarch signed on your behalf. But because the moment I met you, I knew you were my match.”

  Tears fill my eyes again at hearing those words come from his mouth. “Rook…”

  “I’m sorry for lying to you,” he cuts in. “After I met you, I just wanted to spend time with you in the prison. I knew you hated Alpha Bowen, so I wanted you to get to know me just as Rook.”

  I nod quietly, because I get it. I do. If I’d been in his position, I might’ve done the same thing. But that doesn’t mean that my mind isn’t reeling. I’m not sure how to process it all or where that leaves me.

  “Why’d you make up that contract?” I ask. “Why me?”

  His hand drops away. “You’re gonna be pissed.”

  My eyes narrow on him. “I’m already pissed,” I remind him. “So spit it out.”

  “I wanted to fuck with your matriarch.”

  I blink at him, waiting for the punchline. “Umm…”

  “That lounge she took over? The one with all the debt? They were my allies. The mat and pat were good friends of mine. She fucked with them, and I wanted her to pay for it. So I watched. I waited. I knew she took over a shit ton of debt that she couldn’t handle. I made all the other lounges stop doing business with her so that she was drowning in it. And then I brought the contract offer when she was desperate and couldn’t hold off any longer.”

  “So I was just a way to get back at my mother?”

  “You were just a name on a piece of paper,” he tells me. “I didn’t know you back then. Never even really thought of you as a person. I was too focused on my plan.”

  “Which was what exactly?”

  His face hardens. “Making the matriarch give up her only heir to me. I figured that would be a blow to her ego, and it was, but I let her believe that was the end. I’d give a dowry for you and that was it. Except I never planned to ally with them. As soon as I had you, I planned to challenge her, kill her, and then take over your lounge.”

  A whoosh of breath leaves me. He’s not a prison guard right now. In this moment, as he explains his cold plan for vengeance, he’s every bit the ruthless alpha that everyone knows him as. “And you’d just keep me locked in a tower so you could visit me and gloat?” I ask.

  His gaze is unwavering. “Yes.”

  That’s what I thought.

  I rear back and punch him in the arm. Hard.

  “Ow,” he complains, rubbing the spot with a frown.

  “What am I supposed to do with that, Rook?” I demand, moving away from him. “How am I supposed to be okay with any of this?” I yell as I gesture to his stunning and very tastefully decorated house.

  He shakes his head in a frustrated loss. “I don’t know. I just know that I lov—care about you, and together, we’ll figure this out,” he reassures me, trying to close the distance between us again.

  I back up until I feel the cold glass of the window against my back. “Did you just drop the L word?” I demand, shocked. “First you kidnap me, blindfold and tie me up, then you walk in here and drop the hey, I’m Alpha Bowen bomb, and now you L word me?” I ask, my voice high-pitched and squeaky.

  “No,” he answers way too quickly. “I did not L word you, I mumbled care. I definitely said care,” he argues, and I narrow my eyes at the lying liar words coming out of his mouth. “And Trex said you came willingly in the car. I didn’t know that you thought you’d been kidnapped. I’m sorry for the tying you up part, but Trex thought you’d take a swing when you first saw me, so he was just trying to protect my face. He lost fifty bucks by the way. He won’t be happy about it,” Rook tells me, like he expects me to laugh or feel bad or something.

  I just stare at him.

  “You totally L worded me,” I insist, not letting him distract me with the rest of his words. I point an accusatory finger at Rook’s face when a blush starts to bloom in his cheeks. “See! You know it’s true. Admit it!”

  He scoffs. “Psh, me? Alpha Bowen, dropping the L word after just a handful of months? No, that’s not what happened. You misheard,” he defends casually as he shifts his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels and back again.

  Without warning, I spring at him with a growl. He somehow manages to catch me and keeps me from putting him into the head lock I was going for. He tries to cuddle me against his chest, but I’m not having that shit, so I keep trying to grab him, and he’s forced to start wrestling me back. “Tell the truth!” I yell as I pinch at his neck and try to sideswipe his feet with my tail.

  “Get your ears cleaned!” he hollers back before plucking me away from his head that I’m trying to squeeze and starts tickling my sides.

  “Ah! Stop!” I screech. “This is not funny, and you totally L bombed me. Just admit it, you little shit!”

  I laugh when he hits a particularly ticklish spot right above my hip bone, but
I get my revenge when I find his ticklish spot right beneath his armpit.

  “Ha!” I crow victoriously as he starts laughing and writhing to get away from me. “The big bad Alpha Bowen is ticklish and prematurely drops L bombs!”

  Wrapping his tail around my ankles, he yanks my legs out from under me, taking me to the ground. His arms cradle the back of my head and back so that I don’t fall hard, but as soon as I’m down, he ruthlessly goes for my sides. I squeal and jerk around and try to kick him away from me.

  “Confess!” I shout at him in between peals of laughter.

  “I’m the one winning. Why would I confess?” he argues as he straddles me, using his weight to hold me down as his merciless fingers dig into every ticklish spot I possess.

  Knowing I need to play dirty, I lick my finger and stick it in his ear. He jerks back and looks at me with shock and disgust. “Tell the truth, or I’ll do it again,” I warn, licking a different finger and waving it in his direction as he gets off me and wipes his ear.

  “You’re twisted,” he accuses playfully.

  “The truth will set you free, Rook,” I retort before lunging at him and extending my drool-laden finger like it’s a sword and I’m prepared to duel.

  He squeals and leaps away, and the loud ass lady-scream that exits his mouth has me bent over and barking out laughter. I’m dead. Completely finished.

  “Alpha Bowen drops L bombs and lady-screams!” I shout out between fits of giggles that have my eyes tearing up. “Oh, when people find out...” I threaten as I hold my side and cackle even harder.

  “Sunrise,” Rook warns as he puts his hands on his hips. “Don’t go messing with my rep.”

  I laugh even harder.

  “I will. Unless you admit it,” I warn, my eyes gleaming with satisfaction at pinning my prey.

  “So vicious,” he says, but I don’t miss the light or the heat in his eyes as he says it. “Fine. I started to say the L word before I caught it and corrected myself,” he admits, one of his eyebrows going up in challenge.

  “So what you’re saying is...that I’ve got you slippin’,” I press, my gaze alight with mischief and excitement.