Hard Truth (The Alpha Antihero Series Book 4)

by Sybil Bartel

  “Why did you do that?” I demanded.

  Her green eyes looking almost translucent in the early morning light, she glanced at me. “Do what?” Quickly looking away, she fidgeted with her borrowed T-shirt.

  She knew what. “Correct your speech.”

  Dropping her gaze, heat flamed her cheeks. “I dunno.”

  “Yes, you do.” So did I. “Answer my question.” I wanted to hear it from her so I could address it.

  She shrugged. “Just tryin’ somethin’ different.”

  That wasn’t all of it. I waited.

  “I wanna talk better,” she added before getting quiet. “Kendall don’t—doesn’t talk like me.”

  I choked down anger and a swallow of lukewarm coffee. “Kendall was River Ranch. I don’t want you to speak like her.” I set my mug down and turned in my chair to face her. “Look at me.”

  Shy, nervous, her eyes met mine.

  “Do not change for me.”

  “I ain—” She stopped, catching herself. “I wasn’t.”

  I lowered my voice in warning. “What are you doing, Shaila?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped, her pretty face contorting with a frown.

  “Answer my question,” I ordered, putting force into my tone.

  “I wanna talk smarter, okay?” She threw her hands up. “Is that so bad? You’re smart. You had a life. You learned things in the Army by workin’. You had seven years of livin’, and now you’re different, and I-I…” She waved her hand between us as tears welled. “I ain’t nothin’ but an uneducated club wh—”

  “Don’t,” I roared as fury exploded, and I grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her to me. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I ground out. “Don’t you ever say that motherfucking word in my presence or in reference to yourself again.” I jerked her hair tighter. “Do you understand me?”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “Not sayin’ it don’t make it untrue.”

  I hated what she said, but she was right. Ignoring something didn’t make it go away. But that didn’t mean I was going to allow her to talk shit about herself or who she was.

  “Who are you trying to prove yourself to? Because it’s not me. I don’t give a shit how you talk. That doesn’t make you intelligent.” I didn’t know a goddamn thing when I’d gotten out of River Ranch. I’d had to learn everything. Speaking a certain way didn’t make me smarter.

  She lowered her gaze, and heat hit her cheeks. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  Fuck this.

  I slammed my mouth over hers and kissed her.

  Rough.

  Then I used every ounce of willpower I had and pulled back, but I didn’t let go of her now shorter hair. “I don’t get embarrassed. Don’t change for me or anyone else. I want you exactly as you are.”

  She bit her bottom lip, then released it. “Even with my past?”

  My nostrils flared, but I kept it locked down. I knew the woman in the Glades seven years ago, and I knew this woman now. I gave our past closure yesterday, but I knew she’d process shit in her own way, on her own timeline. “We’re done with that,” I reminded her. “Let it go.”

  She dropped her gaze. “I might need to talk about it.”

  Fuck.

  Letting her hair go, I leaned back in my chair with a goddamn hard-on and the desire to pound the fuck out of her until she didn’t want to talk.

  Trying not to be a dick, I tipped my chin. “Then talk.”

  She curled back up in her chair and stared at the ocean for a long moment. Then she took me off guard. “Why don’t you work?”

  “I got money,” I evaded.

  She glanced at me, then quickly looked away. “Kendall said you were in prison.”

  Fucking Kendall. “Six months. Battery charge.” Total bullshit—I never hit Neil Christensen’s woman—but the Feds worked me over and told me unless I gave up my contacts for where I got Israeli Tavor assault rifles and how I got them in the country, they weren’t going to let me walk. I knew the fucking drill though. If I’d talked, I would’ve been looking at a hell of a lot long longer than six months, so I kept my mouth shut and pled guilty to the bullshit charges they’d drummed up.

  My woman thankfully didn’t ask specifics. Nodding, she pulled the T-shirt down over her legs.

  I knew the look on her face. “What else?” I demanded.

  She turned toward me. “But how do you have money? This house must’ve been expensive.” Her voice turned quiet. “I don’t want you goin’ to jail again.”

  I thought about withholding shit from her, but if something happened to me, I wanted her to know how to get to the money, the real money.

  Looking her in the eye, I started with the easiest truth. “When I gave the Feds the information on River Ranch seven years ago, I was compensated. A hundred thousand dollars. The money is still sitting in an account, untouched.”

  Surprise widened her eyes. “That’s a lot of money. But this house must’ve been more than that.”

  It was three times more when I bought it. Now it was worth double that. I admitted the rest to her, but I downplayed it. “I fenced some weapons before I got out of the Army.” Ones Hawkins or Christensen or the Feds never knew about. Ones that never came to the States.

  Her mouth formed a perfect O. “Tarquin,” she whispered. “That won’t put you in jail. That’ll get you killed for treason.”

  “They weren’t US property, and I bought them.” Who I sold them to was the questionable part. “It was a onetime transaction, and that money is sitting in an offshore account.” It was my first brokered deal, and it netted me the money to get the Tavors and anything else I goddamn wanted, except bringing my woman back to me. “There’s plenty of money.”

  Looking both fearful and like she couldn’t believe what I was saying, she rubbed her hand over her throat. “Like how much money?”

  I held her gaze.

  She swallowed. “A lot, a lot?”

  I nodded once.

  Her voice went even quieter. “Like a million?”

  “Over ten times that.” Last I checked.

  Her eyes went wide as fuck, and she stopped breathing.

  “Inhale,” I ordered.

  She sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Again,” I demanded.

  Following orders, she complied.

  I nodded. “Good.” Then I reiterated what I’d told her before. “You don’t have to work.”

  She blinked, twice. “You’re rich?”

  “We’ll have a comfortable life on what I have.” I had to tell her the rest of it. “But you could have more than double that amount.”

  Not moving, she stared at me.

  “Your father’s land,” I explained. “If you want to have his body discovered so he can be declared dead.” His remains were still in that burnt-down house. “You could take a DNA test, prove you’re his daughter, and go through the legal proceedings to inherit the land. There’s over a hundred and twenty acres.” I’d had the realtor who listed my house look it up. “Current market value is about twenty-four million.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  I told her the rest. “Your mother’s name is also listed on the deed to the property. We’d have to find her body.”

  Slowly shaking her head, her voice came out strained. “Do you know how many bodies are buried on that land?”

  Probably a lot. “More than a few.”

  Looking shell-shocked as fuck, she kept shaking her head. “And alertin’ the authorities to Daddy’s body is gonna open up a whole can of worms. The cops will have questions.”

  I simply nodded.

  “Most likely a lot of questions for you,” she said, pointing out the obvious.

  I said what I needed to. “It’s your right to that land, or the money from the sale of it. There are some back taxes, but after court fees and realtor fees, you would still inherit a substantial amount. I’m not going to stand in your way.”

  For a long moment, she studied me
.

  Then her shoulders dropped, she leaned back in her chair, and she closed her eyes as she tipped her face up toward the early morning sun. “No. I don’t want that land or that money.”

  My head spinning, I leaned back in the lounge chair and closed my eyes. “No. I don’t want that land or that money.” I didn’t even have to think about it. I wanted nothing to do with anything connected to Stone Hawkins. And no amount of money was worth putting Tarquin in the hot seat. I wasn’t even gonna consider it.

  No damn way.

  “Hey,” Tarquin barked.

  Opening one eye, I peeked at him. “I know what you’re gonna say, and the answer’s no. I ain’t even gonna think about it.”

  “Woman,” he clipped in a tone that was one hundred percent warning. “Do not dismiss it out of hand.”

  “Did you kill Daddy?” It was a rhetorical question. I knew he did.

  He answered it anyway. “Yes.”

  “Then we’re not pokin’ the bear.” I closed my eye again. “Let that land rot, for all I care. I don’t need no twenty-four million dollars. I don’t even need a million. Besides…” I peeked back at him, but this time it was with both eyes so he knew I wasn’t messing around. “You already got that covered, and what did I ever need that cost money besides food anyway? I don’t care about that kinda stuff, and you know it.” I closed my eyes again. “This topic’s closed for discussion. Anythin’ else you need to tell me? Lay it out.”

  I could feel his gaze on me. It made my skin tingle, and if I was being honest, it made me feel special. Tarquin Scott didn’t look at just anybody, let alone give people his attention. I liked him looking at me. But if he thought he was gonna get a different answer out of me, he was wrong.

  No amount of money was worth the risk of losing him to jail, or worse.

  Without a word, I heard him get up and walk inside the house.

  My heart momentarily sank until I heard him come back out a few seconds later and sit down again.

  I looked over at him.

  Sitting sideways on the lounger as he faced me, he rested his arms on his knees. “When we were in the Glades, I made this for you.” He held something out. “It was meant to be for your birthday.”

  I looked down, and my heart skipped.

  It was a beautifully carved piece of wood in the shape of three flames. Worn and smooth, it had a dark stain on one side.

  Emotions welled, and I ran a finger over it. “It’s beautiful.” I remembered him carving a piece of wood that last morning we’d been in the cabin. He’d been working on something for a couple days that he wouldn’t show me.

  “You were always my fire,” his deep, rough voice rasped.

  I looked up at him. “You were always the earth beneath my feet.” Holding me up. “You still are.”

  “Take the land,” he quietly commanded, putting the carved wood flame in my hand.

  I was shaking my head before the last words left his full lips. “I’m not gonna risk losin’ you again. No amount of money is worth that.”

  “You will regret it one day if you don’t,” he warned.

  I knew what he was really saying. “I am never gonna resent you for my choice in this.” I fingered the smooth wood and tried to change the subject. “Why are half of the flames stained?”

  His gaze cut to my hand, and his compound speak came out. “It is your blood.”

  Understanding hit, and I didn’t have words for what I was feeling except sorrow. “You had this that night you came back for me.”

  He nodded once.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For everythin’ you went through.” More so than for myself, I wasn’t just sorry he went through what he did—my heart, my soul, they broke thinking about him hurting.

  His gaze cut to the wood in my hand before meeting my eyes again. “The carving is yours now.”

  “Thank you.” Emotions choked my throat, and I had to look away because I didn’t want to cry in front of him anymore. He’d given me not only the handmade gift that was a token of his feelings for me, but he’d given me yesterday. He’d done what he could to bury our past, and I wanted to honor him, honor his grand gesture, and that didn’t include crying. He deserved the presence of hope as much as I wanted to give it to him, but I didn’t have any gifts for him or any keepsakes I’d held on to. All I had was my love and gratitude for him.

  And that gratitude wasn’t about weeping for the past.

  So I cleared my throat and looked out at the beach that was full of more promise than a sunrise in the Glades. “Have you ever been in the ocean?”

  “Yes.”

  “I haven’t,” I admitted. “Been swimmin’ a few times in a lake when I was a little girl, but I don’t even know how to swim for real. Just kinda splashed around a bit.” I glanced at him and smiled. “Maybe one day I’ll learn.”

  “I will teach you.”

  I liked that idea. “Did you swim a lot growin’ up?” Not that the Glades was any kinda place I wanted to get in the water. Not unless you wanted a playdate with a gator.

  “Never.”

  I frowned. “So how do you know how to swim?”

  “The Army. You had to pass a Combat Water Survival Test for Ranger school.” He paused. “One more thing.”

  I glanced at him.

  His cool gaze met mine and held. “It should not come to this, Luna said he has connections and can make this a nonissue if he has to, but if I do get charged with the Hangmen deaths, I do not intend to go to prison.”

  My heart stopped. “Meanin’?”

  “I have an exit strategy.”

  Fear robbed the breath left in my lungs. “Tarquin—”

  “My plan includes you as well. I have IDs for both of us that will get us to a country that doesn’t have extradition, or we can disappear into the Glades.” He paused ever so slightly. “If you want to come with me.”

  “Sweet mercy, you scared me.” I grasped my chest and inhaled, trying to slow my heart rate. “Of course I’m comin’ with you.” Once my pulse settled, I took his hand and squeezed. “Where you go, I go. Always.”

  He nodded once, then stood. “Stay. I will make breakfast.” Releasing my hand, he walked into the house.

  And just like that, Tarquin Scott was done talking.

  I was staring after him, smiling to myself that despite all the years, he hadn’t changed, not really. He still had his thresholds for togetherness and closeness, and be still my heart, it only made me love him more.

  I was soaking in the view and the ocean breeze when my moment of peace was interrupted by his cell vibrating. Wondering who was calling him this early in the morning, I picked his phone up from the small table between the lounge chairs and turned it over.

  My stomach knotted.

  Kendall.

  I knew she was with André. I knew she loved him and he loved her. But my heart didn’t care. She’d lived with Tarquin for years, and I hated her for it. I didn’t even care that she’d taken me for a haircut yesterday and maybe it was her way of trying to be nice. The whole time, I felt uncomfortable and like I was in some sorta secret competition, and I wanted no part of it.

  I didn’t even want her to be a part of Tarquin’s life.

  Jealousy making me both stabby and sick to my stomach, I walked his stupid phone into the kitchen and dumped it on the counter. “You got a call.”

  Standing shirtless at the stove, with all his muscles and ink on full display like he was some kinda supermodel for BadBoys R Us, he turned with a spatula in his hand.

  Before I could open my big mouth and let words of jealous anger fly, I pivoted and walked right back out to the back patio.

  Except I didn’t stop there.

  I aimed for the ocean.

  Staring after my woman, I answered my cell. “What do you want?”

  “Good morning to you too,” Kendall replied dryly.

  “Why the fuck are you calling?” It’d obviously pissed my woman off.

  “I
can’t call you now?”

  “No. You pissed Shaila off. And I’m not down with the bullshit you pulled yesterday.” Looking out the kitchen window, I watched my woman walk across the patio, down the lawn and out toward the beach. In just a fucking T-shirt.

  “Excuse me for trying to help her get a haircut. Jesus fuck, Candle, you really are an asshole.” Kendall hung up.

  I flipped the eggs, and the phone rang again.

  I didn’t bother looking at the screen. I was staring at my woman. If she didn’t stop when the path to the beach ended, if she kept walking on to the sand where anyone could see her, I was going to spank the fuck out of her. “What?” I demanded into the phone.

  “For the record, you’re also a selfish dick,” Kendall clipped. “And you make a shitty friend.”

  Fucking Christ. “Let me spell it out for you, Kendall. We’re not friends. We never wer—”

  “Bullshit,” she snapped, interrupting me. “We both came from the compound.”

  She was my obligation, and I made sure she was taken care of. Now she was Luna’s problem. “This isn’t fucking River Ranch. Let the goddamn past go.”

  Goddamn it. My woman walked all the way down the path to the fucking beach.

  Kendall snorted. “Like you did?”

  Now I was fucking pissed. “Don’t call me again. And if I ever run into you, you better make sure you’re fucking civil to my woman or you’re dead to me.” I hung up and turned off the stove.

  Then I strode out of the house.

  Halfway down the beach path, I was yelling. “Shaila!”

  She didn’t even turn around.

  Aiming straight for the water, her hair blowing out behind her, she ignored me. Wind kicking up the waves and whipping her T-shirt around her bare ass, she walked right into the fucking ocean.

  I broke out in a sprint.

  Five strides from the water, I watched a wave swamp her.

  Fucking frantic, I dove into the cold surf just as she tried to surface. Another wave hit and dragged her under. Almost to her, I reached as fucking far as I could.

  The undertow yanked her out.