Arrogant

by Drea Blackery

  “You care for me, don’t you,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of my head.

  “No,” I said sullenly. “Stupid assholes aren't my type.”

  Ryland laughed softly, sounding relieved.

  “I care for you too,” he said. “I don't have the right to say it, but I will anyway. I care for you, very fucking much.”

  I absorbed his words helplessly.

  “Then don't do something like that,” I mumbled. “I don't want it.”

  Ryland exhaled, his breath stirring the hairs at my temple. “The other alternative is paying Estelle off, but I don't want a single cent to go to that bitch. She tried to hurt you.”

  “What about Theo? He isn’t involved. He might know a way.”

  “I thought of that too, but there's a high chance it won't pan out the way I want.”

  “Talk to him first,” I insisted. “Don't turn yourself in for a crime you didn't commit.”

  Ryland was silent for a long moment, rubbing his chin on my hair.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Okay, I'll think of another way.”

  I shut my eyes in relief.

  “Now that prison is not in my immediate future, I’m gonna lay out my plans to win you back,” Ryland said, sounding businesslike again. “You tell me which will work and which won't, and I'll scrap the ineffective methods and double down on those with promise.”

  I pulled away, from his arms.

  “I don't know if I can ever forgive you,” I told him honestly. “I don't know if it will ever be right between us again, and I rather you didn't waste your time. That’s what I came to tell you. We’re over.”

  “And I told you I'm not letting go.” Ryland’s hand went to my cheek again, as if he needed to touch me constantly.

  “Even if it takes the rest of my life,” he told me, “I'll earn your trust again. But a word of warning, Allie cat. I've always played dirty. It's the only way I know, and I'm going to pull all the stops. Starting now.”

  He reached into his coat and took out a manila envelope, handing it to me.

  “What is it?” I asked warily as I opened it.

  A letter and a colorful, glossy booklet slipped out into my hands.

  I'd seen those before when Karin had first been accepted into college. My eyes went wide as they scanned the letter, catching the phrases “Alecia Grace Beckett,” “pleased to welcome you,” and “School of Business Management.”

  Ryland had gotten me accepted into Bramston University.

  “How did you know?” I whispered, staring up at him in shock.

  Ryland's smile was a little smug. “Because I know you.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Try again.”

  “You were always the studious type, even back in San Juan.” He shrugged. “And you spent the past ten years working to give your sister a college education when you missed out on it yourself. So I sent in your SAT and GPA scores and job experiences.”

  “And they accepted me just like that?”

  Ryland looked uneasy, rubbing the back of his neck. “They would have, since your scores are pretty impressive. But I wanted to speed things up, since I expected to meet with you. So I wrote to the Dean with a letter of recommendation.”

  “Wow. You expected to meet with me. I'm amazed at your presumptuousness.” Shaking my head, I stuffed the contents back in the envelope. “Thanks for your bribe, but I’ll have to pass. I can't accept an application that wasn't rightfully earned.”

  “You earned it, I was just moving things along—” Ryland broke off at my set expression. “Look, there's an open house coming up in a couple months. At least check it out before deciding.”

  “We'll see,” I muttered, tucking the envelope into my bag. “You weren't kidding when you said you didn't play fair.”

  Ryland's gaze sharpened. “Why? Is it working?”

  “No.” I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head and stuffed my hands into my pockets. “I'll see you around, Ryland.”

  “Wait.” He took my arm, staying me. “You haven't told me where you're staying.”

  “And I'm not going to.”

  “I have a unit at 3rd Avenue—”

  “No.”

  “I need to know you're safe,” Ryland said simply. “So until you tell me, we'll be standing in this wind, freezing our asses off. Choose.”

  His immovable expression told me I wasn't going anywhere until he got his answer.

  I raised my eyes to the sky. “I'm looking for a new apartment for us. I'll text you the address after I iron out the details, but in return, there will be no bodyguards, no tailing me, no any of that crap. I'll keep my sister and me safe from now.”

  “Fine,” he clipped, letting go of my arm reluctantly.

  “Goodbye, Ryland.”

  I turned from him, feeling his gaze burning into my back the whole time I walked away.

  Just after I got back to the motel room, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  “Are you back safely?” it read.

  I hesitated a moment before texting simply, “Yes.”

  Ryland’s reply came immediately. “Tell me something only I would know.”

  “You're an asshole.”

  “Everyone knows that. Try again: Where was the first time we met?”

  I bit my lip at the question.

  The first time I’d spoken to Ryland was at the art exhibition, but that wasn't the first time he'd spoken to me.

  “In the hall in high school. You had your arm around two girls and had the nerve to ask me out on a date. In your car.”

  A long minute went by, then my phone vibrated again.

  “I don't remember the girls, but the rest is correct. I'll see you soon, Allie cat.”

  I sat back in my chair, a half-empty glass of whiskey clasped loosely in my hand.

  The sky outside my office was dark, but I made no move to leave. I still had to come up with something to announce at the press conference tomorrow.

  I wasn't gonna lie. I had been tense just thinking about resigning. It went against everything I lived for, not to mention that I'd been prepared to head straight to prison right after. Now that it was out of the picture, I could breathe just a bit easier.

  I tossed back the rest of my whiskey and set the glass on the table.

  I'd already drank too much the past four days, but the one good thing was that I finally got to see Allie.

  After days of going out of my mind wondering how and where she was, all I'd wanted to do when I saw her was hold on and never let go.

  Not that she would’ve let me.

  Allie was pissed off as hell, but more than that, her trust in me had been wrecked. I had to fix this shit, no matter how long it took.

  And judging by the way she'd kept me at arms-length earlier, it wasn’t gonna be easy.

  Too bad for her, I was more stubborn than she was. I’d wear her down eventually, and then she’d forgive me and be mine again.

  She had to.

  I exhaled, letting my head fall back against the headrest.

  At least she still cared for me.

  It was a relief, I had to admit. Allie could deny it until her face was blue, but I knew that she wasn't lost to me yet, and I'd take that for now. I still had some time to win her before she convinced herself to let me go.

  And the next step to winning her over began with a certain POS who was supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago.

  I glanced at the clock impatiently.

  Theo had always made it a point to be late on purpose, and obviously that hasn’t changed. I poured another drink as I waited.

  Several minutes later, my office doors were thrown open without a knock.

  A black-haired man strolled into my office with his hands in his pockets—had he fucking kicked my doors open?

  The bastard wore a suit like I did, but his was slightly rumpled as if to announce I don't give a fuck about anything. I narrowed my eyes in irritation as he headed to the sofas and sat, propping his shoes
up on the coffee table.

  Then he angled his head and stared at me with soulless amber eyes I'd last seen a decade ago.

  “This shit better be worth my time,” Theo said simply, “or I'm charging you double my hourly rate.”

  “Right.” I gave him a cold look. “You're a lawyer now.”

  “I own a law firm,” Theo corrected with a humorless smile, “but that's not what I'm here for, so if we could get the fuck on with it, I'd appreciate it. What's this urgent matter you talked about?”

  “Obviously I didn't ask you here to chat. What else can it be?”

  He took his time to answer, withdrawing a cigarette from his inner pocket, lighting it and drawing in deeply.

  “Estelle,” he said, looking almost amused. “She finally made her move.”

  “The three of us received untraceable emails over a month ago asking thirty million for her silence,” I said, “and I met with her two weeks ago. That's when I found out the two of you weren’t in contact.”

  “What’s your point, Wyatt?”

  “Are you behind this?” I stated simply.

  Theo met my direct stare. “No.”

  I felt an unexpected relief at that.

  Funny. Who would have thought it mattered?

  “So she ran out of money and got desperate.” Theo flicked his cigarette ashes on the carpet. “Why am I not surprised? What I want to know is why you're trying to involve me.”

  I was asking myself the same damn thing. Asking Theo for help was as pleasant as pulling my own guts out from my throat, but this was what we were left with.

  “We want your help,” I said.

  Theo let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you're shitting me right now?”

  “I wish I was. But no.”

  He stared at me incredulously. “Then let me repeat the exact same thing I told you when you asked my help back then. Fuck. Off.”

  “Estelle sent men after Allie three weeks ago.” I folded my arms and leaned back in my chair. “They shot at her as a warning after I contacted her looking for info.”

  Theo's mocking smile faded. “And the sister?” he asked sharply.

  I narrowed my eyes at his unexpected question. “Allie and Karin are both safe. For now,” I added curtly. “They're currently at a motel. They were staying at one of my apartments, until Allie found out about everything last Saturday. Then she and Karin packed their shit and moved out the same night.”

  Theo’s brows drew together. “You bloody idiot. How the hell did she find out?”

  “It doesn't matter,” I growled. “They should have known ten damned years ago.”

  Theo glared at me for another beat before looking away in disgust. “I need a drink,” he muttered.

  I jerked my chin at my liquor cabinet. “Knock yourself out.”

  The asshole retaliated by selecting the most expensive whiskey from my cabinet, dangling his cigarette between his teeth as he helped himself to a full glass of the stuff.

  Fucker.

  “This needs to end, Theo. She’s killed before, and she can kill again.”

  “You don't know that she will.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. Was he saying this for the sake of it, or out of loyalty to his only family left?

  Shaking my head, I took another swallow from my glass. “Whatever. Deny it all you want, but I have a bullet crater in my car door to prove it. We already have Horace's blood on our hands. We can't let the same happen to his daughters.”

  Theo remained in stony silence for a long minute.

  “I have a personal rule,” he finally said. “I don’t get involved with anything unless there's something in it for me. And this? This is a bloody shitshow. There's no reason for me to be part of this.”

  I looked at Theo directly, aware that I was about to say something corny.

  But shit, it needed to be said anyway.

  “You’ll get redemption,” I told him.

  Theo choked and stabbed his cigarette out on my liquor cabinet, leaving a black burn mark on the wood.

  “I don't give a shit about redeeming myself to you,” he said incredulously, “or to the other two. They’d try to kill me the first chance they get.”

  “So would I, jackass, you screwed us over,” I muttered. “Gabriel took it hard, by the way. Not that he'd ever admit it. And I'm not talking about redemption from us. I mean from yourself.”

  Theo's lips twisted. “Piss off, Wyatt. I sleep perfectly fine at night, usually under a couple of hot, tight chicks.”

  I didn't return his cold smile. “You can try and hide, but this shit eats at you. We both know that.”

  “I'm not hiding.”

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

  I studied him as he went to stand by the window, looking out at the dark city. The alcohol had eased the tension in his shoulders, but not by much.

  “I'm curious,” Theo said suddenly. “Why would you expect me to help now, when I didn't back then?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “No. I'm just passing time while I finish your booze.”

  I narrowed my eyes at his back. “Honestly? Not a clue. We trusted you to have our backs, and you fucked us over. Maybe I'm just hoping something's different this time around.”

  “If anything's different, it's you. You've turned into a sentimental shit.”

  I drew my brows as I considered what he said.

  It wasn't that far off the mark. With Allie, it was like someone other than myself had the power to make or break me. It made me vulnerable for once, and it was an uncomfortable feeling I could deal without.

  But not if it meant letting go of Allie.

  Obviously.

  “Assuming you find a way out of this mess,” Theo continued. “Then what?”

  I got up and joined him at the window, folding my arms. “In the best case, Estelle will be tried for the murder. She will try to drag us down with her, but Cam's been working with his lawyers to build a case for us if that happens. It shouldn't be a problem for us to keep ourselves clean, so long as we have strong evidence against her.”

  “And the sisters? What do you plan to do with them?”

  “That's none of your business.”

  “You're playing a dangerous game, Wyatt,” Theo said, his mocking gaze meeting mine in the reflection of the glass. “A thousand bucks says you're fucking the elder one. Hell, maybe you even care about her.”

  “The fuck?” I growled, muscles tensing. “You had me watched?”

  “I don't need to, prick, it's written all over your face every time you say her name.” Theo shook his head. “Getting involved with Beckett's daughter. How dumb can you get?”

  “Keep your opinions to yourself,” I said in a dangerous tone, “The only thing I want from you is how to take your bitch of a mother down.” I cocked my head. “Or maybe you're already making plans to go running back to her again.”

  “Mm. Not a bad idea, actually. Then you'd be well and truly fucked.”

  “If we go down,” I warned softly. “I'll make sure you're right alongside us. So what's it going to be, Theo? Are you in or not?”

  Theo was still for a long moment, then finally he swore, looking disgusted with himself.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Thank fuck.

  “We want the gun back,” I said simply. “You either retrieve for us, or tell us where it is so we can get it ourselves.”

  Theo shook his head once. “Even if I wanted to, I can't. I haven't seen Estelle in years, and if I reappear again asking about it, she’s gonna get suspicious.”

  “The other way is getting an actual confession out of her.” I watched him carefully. “Can you arrange that?”

  Theo tilted his head, surveying the dark city outside. “Maybe.”

  Then he turned back to the liquor cabinet and slammed the glass down. “My glass is empty, AKA, my interest has run out.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Keep me posted on your progress.”


  “I don’t take orders, Wyatt.”

  At the door, Theo paused, looking back at me with an unreadable expression. “If I were you, I'd remain in New York for awhile. Same goes for Alecia.”

  That got my hackles up. “What are you up to?” I asked suspiciously.

  “You can’t figure out?” Theo smirked. “Then I guess you’ll have to wait.”

  With that, he left, slamming the door behind him.

  “Fucker,” I muttered.

  I'd almost forgotten what a pain it was to have Theo on the opposite team. Allie had called the four of us assholes, but Theo out-assholed the rest of us combined.

  I loosened my tie with jerky movements, feeling the sense of relief that came from a small respite.

  I knew perfectly well that Theo could betray us again, but I also knew that the look on his face when I told him about the shooters hadn't been faked.

  Theo was pissed this time.

  Why, I didn’t know yet, but one problem at a time, and my priority now was to bury this matter so deep into the ground that it was erased from existence.

  And then there'd be nothing left standing between Allie and me.

  She may not know it yet, but she would be mine again, and soon.

  I squeezed my way through the rush hour crowd at the subway station, grabbing my paper bag of semi-warm focaccia close to my chest.

  It had been two months since I’d met Ryland by Brooklyn Bridge, where he'd handed that precious envelope to me.

  Since then, I'd gotten a part-time job waitressing at an Italian restaurant in the afternoons while I made my decision about Bramston Uni.

  Ryland hadn't interfered with that.

  But he tried to for just about everything else.

  Less than a day after our meeting, I received an email from a landlord in Manhattan offering an apartment at an inexplicably lower rental.

  No apartment in New York could be that cheap, so no prizes for guessing who was behind it.

  I'd simply found another place in an area that Ryland did not own half of, and that I could afford.

  Not only that, but Ryland also started showing up at the soup kitchen, even on the weeks I wasn't there.

  The first Saturday when I arrived, I had been stunned to see Ryland at the back, dicing chicken breast, of all things. Jemima and Bailey had been beyond excited to see him again, and the regular guests welcomed him like he was an old friend.