"But I don't need to," Jericho said slowly. "I have a house in the woods." He smiled. "I have yours."
Annie clenched her teeth together to keep herself from saying something stupid. "Not my home," she told him. "Get another home."
"I don't think so," Jericho said, shaking his head. "Your brother has proven not to be the most reliable person to lend money to. At least with the deed of the house, I've gotten my investment back in something I've wanted in a long time."
“A smaller house in the woods?” Annie asked sarcastically.
Jericho grinned and turned his attention to Bruce. “You never told me your sister was so feisty,” he said.
“Yeah,” Bruce muttered, reaching up to cup the back of his head with his hand. “We’re trying to work on it. I apologize for her behavior.”
Jericho waved his apology away. “Nonsense,” he said. “I find her honesty refreshing.”
“You know,” Annie growled. “I’m sitting right here.”
Jericho’s grin widened. “You’re right,” he admitted. “How rude of me. To answer your question, despite the fact that it was clearly rhetorical, yes, I’ve always wanted a nice house in the woods. The perfect place to raise a family.”
Annie refrained from snorting again. She did not want to make a big deal over something that should not be a big deal. If he wanted to raise a family in the woods, who was she to critique that? It made no difference to her what he did just as long as he didn’t plan to do it in her home. She didn’t care what that deed said. It was her house. She was the one paying the mortgage, not Bruce. She was the one paying the taxes on the house, not Bruce. How could he make such an important decision without even including her?
It literally made no sense.
“Look,” Annie said, her tone desperate now that she knew there was really nothing she could do. That her house was literally slipping through her fingers and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “I’ve been paying the mortgage. Would you consider giving me the opportunity to pay you back and allowing me the opportunity to get the deed back?”
Jericho was surprised by her question.
“You’re the responsible member from your family, aren’t you?” he asked. There was something that flickered along with the amusement in his eyes. It resembled something like… respect. Her insides churned, as though they were pleased someone as powerful as Jericho would respect her and she immediately hated herself for it. Who cared if Jericho respected her? He was no one to her, just some big name and her brother’s boss.
But, a voice pointed out. That respect could very well come in handy. It might help you get the house back.
“Bruce isn’t completely hopeless,” Annie said slowly, because it was the truth. And despite everything, he was still her brother. “But I’m a lot more organized and on top of things, yes.”
Jericho nodded as though this wasn’t a surprise to him. “I know you have a job at some firm as an accountant,” he said. “I could really use someone like you on my team. I pay a competitive rate, you would get great benefits, and you’d be entitled to overtime rather than a salary.”
Annie looked at him like he was crazy. “You don’t even know me,” she pointed out.
He shrugged his shoulders elegantly. “So?” he asked. “You think that’s going to stop me? I can get to know you, Ms. Brennan. I’m getting to know you right now.”
“You should do it, Annie,” Bruce said in a whisper, keeping his eyes on his boss while speaking to her. “He really does pay a competitive salary, the benefits are great-“
“I’m not going to work for him,” she said. “I’m not.” Her eyes flashed over to his. “Is there anything I can do to get my house back? I can pay you rent. I can pay off the mortgage? Anything?”
“Not unless your brother can come up with fifty grand right now,” Jericho told her.
Annie wanted to scream. She wanted to slap the smug smirk from Jericho’s face and she wanted to slap her brother for being so fucking stupid. There was nothing she could do. Her house had been stolen by some kind of beautiful monster.
“Where am I going to live?” she asked, looking at Jericho.
“You can come move in with me,” Bruce reminded her, gently patting her on the back.
She snapped at him. “Don’t touch me.” Her eyes looked at Jericho. “I am not moving to the city,” she told him. “If you hate it here as much as I do, you understand.”
“I never told you that you had to leave the house,” Jericho told her, his tone serious.
“Wait,” Annie said, furrowing her brow. “What?”
Jericho nodded. “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “I’m not kicking you out. You can stay there for as long as you want.”
“Okay,” Annie said slowly. “How much do I owe you in rent?”
Jericho wrinkled his brow, making him look pensive and even more beautiful than he was. She clenched her teeth together in order to focus on what was important, and it certainly wasn’t his high cheekbones or his pale green eyes or the perfection that encapsulated his face.
“Rent?” he asked, furrowing his brows even more. “Who said anything about paying rent? You wouldn’t owe me anything.”
Annie clenched her teeth together. This seemed too good to be true. She couldn’t fathom living in her home with a new owner and pay nothing in rent.
“What would you want in return?” she asked slowly, knowing there was some sort of catch. There had to be. This was Jericho they were talking about. The criminal. Head of organized crime. Was he trying to trick her? Did he want something from her? She wasn’t sure what she could give him that he would want. She wasn’t supposed to be involved in the first place.
“Nothing,” he said, almost offended that she asked in the first place.
What did he expect? Nothing was for free. Not even love.
Annie didn’t want to press her luck. Instead, she clenched her jaw to keep the words from leaving her mouth and sighed through her nose. “Can we leave now?” she asked.
“Once the deed has transferred over to me, you are free to go,” Jericho said.
“I’ll go sit in the car, then,” Annie muttered.
Jericho stood and held out his hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Brennan,” he said.
She didn’t know what to say in return. It wasn’t a pleasure meeting him, but she didn’t want to be rude. Not when he was offering her the opportunity to live in her home for free. Instead of responding at all, she nodded her head and shook his hand.
Then, without looking back, she left for the car, hoping Bruce would hurry the hell up.
Chapter 3
The next morning, Annie cracked her eyes open. She needed last night to be a dream. She needed to have this house in her name, where Jericho couldn’t touch it. She closed her eyes, letting a low groan out of her mouth before rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. It was still overcast outside, so dark the sun had no chance of peeking through. She liked to sleep in Saturdays and Sundays but her mind had woken up early thanks to the stress she was currently under, considering Jericho could kick her out at any moment. She refused to give up the last thing she had of her parents so easily to some corrupt businessman.
Deciding it was too early to think about Jericho without coffee, she forced herself out of bed. Her feet hit the floor and she stood, stretching as she did so.
However, there was something off, something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Without thinking, she reached for her big overcoat and slid it on, heading down the stairs with the question in her mind. And then it hit her. It wasn’t cold.
The house Annie lived in had its own heater but Annie refrained from using it as often as possible because the energy bill would skyrocket if she did so. Though she did make a decent salary, she didn’t want to spend when she didn’t have to. This meant that when she woke up, she woke up to bitter mornings and always wore her overcoat when she made her coffee and ate her breakfast. It wasn’t until she took a hot
shower did she finally get the opportunity to finally relax.
It was rare when Annie would use the heater and she knew she didn’t turn it on last night. Of course, she had been so pissed, she didn’t even eat dinner so she might have flipped it on in silent rebellion to everyone and everything. The heat did help her sleep better, considering she wasn’t layered with clothing, wrapped under three blankets, and shivering to keep warm. She had considered moving to warmer places like California but she would miss the rain too much. Plus, Bruce was here, and even though he was the last person she wanted to see right now, he was still her only brother. Her only family.
When she walked through the living room to get to the kitchen, she nearly had a heart attack. There, sitting at the small dining table tucked into the corner of the dining room, was Jericho himself, dressed in business casual clothing – dark jeans with one ankle resting on the other knee, a blue t-shirt hugging his broad shoulders and tight torso, a pair of Vans on his feet, and his blond-brown hair left messy (a word she never thought she would associate with him) – reading a newspaper with a cup of coffee next to his left hand.
He picked his eyes up from the paper and she stopped moving. She didn’t even step through the entranceway to the dining room. She was rooted to her spot because of that stare. It was almost as though she was some teenage girl sneaking out at night and she had just gotten caught. Except Jericho was only ten years older than she was, if that, and was the last person she thought of when the word family came to mind.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. At first, she felt guilty for sounding so blunt up until the point where she remembered he was in her home without warning, sitting at her kitchen table, like he owned the place. And maybe, technically, he did but he wasn’t allowed in her home. There had to be some rule that prevented the owner to show up and disturb the tenant.
“In case you forgot,” he drawled slowly, the silky tone wrapping around her body like ribbon, “I happen to own this residence now.”
Annie pressed her lips together, giving herself a moment to respond. “I know,” she finally said. “I know. It’s just…” She didn’t like being nice if she didn’t have to, especially with someone who clearly thought they were entitled to just take what he wanted without really asking first. “If the gossip magazines are to be believed, you own a penthouse in Seattle and a mansion in the suburbs. Why are you in some three-bedroom, single-family home?”
His lips spread out into a smile. Annie thought it was similar to the way a predator might regard its prey just before it was about to pounce. “If the gossip rags are to be believed, I would have three children by four different women, a gay relationship with one of my security guards, and a different woman on my arm every week. Only one of those things is true.”
Annie rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. The last thing she wanted to talk about with this man was his reputation with the women.
“However, I do have my penthouse and I do have my suburb home,” he said with a nod. “I just decided that I’d prefer the quaintness Eastvale offered, rather than the elaborate scheme, the gated community, that makes up New Haven. My bodyguards hang around the house. I prefer to be alone.”
“Is that such a good idea?” Annie asked before she could stop herself, perking her brow. Her heart raced. She shouldn’t have said that. She shouldn’t have alluded to his criminal dealings – his alleged criminal activity. What if she wasn’t supposed to know things? What if he does something to her from opening her mouth? What if-?
“And why would you ask that?” he asked. He still had that sparkle that had occupied his eyes whenever he was around her. She wasn’t sure if he always had it. Most pictures depicted him as serious and brooding. Even when he was with beautiful women on his arm, he never smiled. It made him look intimidating, even though he wasn’t particularly tall. She wondered if he was manipulating her now or if he was letting his guard down with her for some unknown reason.
Did it even matter?
“I just figured,” Annie said, trying to find some logical explanation for her flippant comment that wouldn’t sound judgmental. “You’re an important person, I suppose, and-“
“Being alone with you would put me at risk for something?” he asked, slowly raising his right brow and keeping his eyes in hers. The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk and he shrugged his shoulders. She had no idea how it was possible, but he made the gesture look graceful, elegant. “I suppose you could be right. I think I’ll take my chances.” He folded the newspaper and tossed it on the surface of the table. “Would you like breakfast? I make a mean scrambled eggs and sausage.”
“You’re going to cook for me?” she asked doubtfully. Annie still lingered by the entranceway of the dining room, hesitating. She was hungry but she wasn’t sure if she was actually comfortable sitting across the table from Jericho like this living arrangement was perfectly normal.
“I am capable of cooking,” he told her, standing up in one fluid motion. “You know, just because I own nightclubs doesn’t mean I don’t get my hands dirty when I need to. I can’t expect my employees to do something I refuse to do. That wouldn’t be fair. As a leader, I am expected to set the example and I take that very seriously.”
Annie’s breathing got shallow. Even though his words appeared normal and understandable, there was something more to them. Something deeper and lying in the spaces between.
“So.” He stood next to her cabinets and perked his brow. “Scrambled eggs and sausage?”
“We don’t –“ She had to clear her throat. “We don’t have sausage.”
Why had she said we? It was just her now. Bruce lived in some shitty apartment in the city, close to his job. Her parents were gone. It was just her.
“Yes, we do,” he said with a small smirk. “Once I took possession of the house, I had my employee fill the fridge. You will never have an empty fridge again, Ms. Brennan.”
“I can cook my own breakfast,” she told him. “Listen, are you going to, like, be here, now?” She placed her hands on her hips, trying to figure out a nice way to ask if she should expect him here now. “I just…”
“Have you ever lived with a stranger?” Jericho asked with a grin. He turned to open the fridge and pulled out eggs and sausage.
“Of course not,” Annie said.
“Ever brought one home?” he asked with a grin. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.” He reached up to grab a mixing bowl and then bent down to grab a pan. How the hell did he know the layout of her kitchen already? And it wasn’t as though he had switched things up to his liking, he had simply learned her layout and possibly added to it because she definitely didn’t recognize the stainless steel pan he had out. “Do you prefer your eggs with butter or oil? I know oil is probably healthier but there’s just something about butter… Why do the bad things always taste the best?”
Annie pressed her lips together. Another statement that probably meant three other things than what it sounded like.
Since she didn't know how to answer; she decided not to.
"You can come in the kitchen, you know," he said slowly, glancing up at her as he proceeded to crack eggs into the mixing bowl. "I'm not going to bite you. And you never answered my question."
"I'm just confused as to what's happening here," she replied. "Do you live here now? Are you evicting me? Because let me tell you right now that I have no intention of leaving so easily."
Jericho's eyes sparkled with amusement. They were nearly as green as grass. "I didn't think you would," he told her. "To answer your questions, though, no, I am not evicting you. You've lived here your whole life and it wouldn't be fair to expect you to pack up now simply because your parents decided that the oldest sibling was the more responsible one and put his name on the deed of the house. I want you to stay. As for me living here, I would actually prefer it. I like the quiet and the solitude. My business is in the city but that's no place to raise a family."
"You wa
nt to raise a family," Annie said slowly, not quite believing him.
"Of course," he said, dropping his eyes down to the bowl. He grabbed a mixer with his right hand and proceeded to mix the eggs together. "Don't you?" He gestured at the table. "Sit and I'll explain." He cocked his head to the side. "Please?"
Annie rubbed her lips together. She tried to look away but was unable to. Instead, she slowly made her way into the kitchen and slid into a seat where she could keep an eye on him at all times. She didn't trust him here. She wanted to call the police and report him for trespassing but since her idiot brother decided to give him their house, she really couldn't do anything about it.
"I would like to leave a child my legacy," he continued, his eyes dropping to his bowl as he resumed his mixing. "Perhaps two, if I'm lucky. But first, I want to find the right type of woman to have children with."
Annie all but rolled her eyes. "Take your pick," she told him, staring at the newspaper and not him. Even so, she could feel his stare on her. "I'm sure if you mentioned your desire to settle down and start a family, the women would line up at your clubs just for the opportunity."
He smiled. "Perhaps," he said. "But the desire to procreate doesn't automatically translate into being a good parent or a good wife."
"Let me guess," Annie said. "You want to pop out as many kids as possible and have your wife stay home with them while you go out and make the money."
"Actually, I would want my wife to do whatever she wanted," he told her without a hint of irony in his tone. "I want her to put our family first, of course, just like I would. But it's important to me to show my children that you can do whatever you want. You can stay home as a boy and go to work as a girl and vice versa. To be honest, I would love to retire once I had kids and stay home. I have investments that would garner me more money so I would still have that but my main focus would be my family."
Annie looked at him like he wasn't quite real. And maybe he wasn't. He was currently pouring egg batter into a buttered pan, wearing a t-shirt and dark jeans. This was not the Jericho the public knew. Hell, she barely even knew him and yet he was in a rather vulnerable position. He was cooking in casual attire, his hair spiked and messy. He wasn't completely put together and it made him look... younger.
A Corruption Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 3) Page 4
