by Amanda Scott
York interrupted as he cupped her knee with his rough, weathered hand. She froze, but not because he had the gall to put his hand on her knee; in fact, his touch felt somehow more paternal than inappropriate. But still, his touch was a clear reminder…
This was his limo and he called the shots. Throwing a pity party wasn’t going to do her any good right now.
“I’m gonna give it to you straight, Taylor.” He placed his empty glass on the shiny mahogany shelf that protruded from the limo’s seat. “I know about your mother’s suicide. And I know about your larceny charges. And…” he paused as he studied her reaction. His eyes narrowed, and he appeared as though he almost felt sorry for her.
She was numb, perfectly motionless. Frozen, to be exact. And she was sure she had just acquired permanent nerve damage in multiple sections of her body.
Her worst nightmare appeared to be coming true, right here in the back of Mitch York's limousine.
She’d never been confronted about her mother’s death since the day it happened. Sure, the Department of Social Services and her high school guidance counselors tried to intervene and mandate services for her since technically she was still a year away from being an adult. But she never made it to an outside counselor. And her father had no chance in hell of making her go. He never protected her before, what made her think he had any right in trying then?
She wasn’t ready to look at what happened, at the fact that she’d felt completely responsible for her mom’s suicide.
But she didn’t seem to have much of a choice as York’s deadpan expression awaited a response of some sort.
“I… I didn’t mean to-“
“Steal from the hand that fed you?” he interrupted. “Nobody ever means to fall from grace. But we fall anyways, Taylor.”
She was on the edge of insanity when she fell from her own state of grace. She wanted so badly to fill that hole in her heart on her seventeenth birthday. She had an estranged mother who was clawing her way through major depression at the time, and a father who spent whatever spare change he and Taylor had on beer and cigarettes.
All I wanted was a new sweater, she thought to herself. Just a little something to give herself on her own birthday since nobody else ever gave her anything Something to keep her warm. Something she could wear the next day to school to prove to everyone at school that there was at least someone in her life who loved her enough to give her a goddamn present. And the fact that her abusive mother took her own life just hours after Taylor had been caught stealing from her own employer has kept her in chains since the day it all went to hell.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as her eyes started to well up. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked York again.
Only this time his smile was strangely warm, with even a slight trace of pity in in his eyes. “Because we can help each other. I think.” He stopped there, and then reached into the front pocket of his suit coat. The corporate mogul pulled out an index card that was folded in half. “Here,” he said, holding it out for her to grasp.
She hesitated, as if his fingers were the equivalent of venomous snake teeth. Then she quickly snatched the folded card out of his hands.
Three simple words were written on the card: One equals everything.
She shook her head as she read the three words aloud several times. “I’m not too good at riddles, Mr. York.”
He chuckled softly, but his eyes were focused and more serious than she’d yet to see them. “It’s not a riddle, Taylor. It’s a contract.”
“A contract? This is a contract?” she asked as she stared at the three words.
“It’s actually quite simple. You and Colton write a book. The book climbs to number one both in print and digital. I make a phone call and clear Colton’s charges. You have the entire world at your disposal. Simple, right?”
“To be honest, no. Not to me.”
All traces compassion in his eyes were suddenly replaced with dollar signs. “You got one week,” he said as he looked down at his phone.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
York looked up from his screen, his eyes now drained of all patience. “I got our boy Marcus out on bail for one week. If I don’t get a rough draft in by next Friday, I…” his voice trailed off as he held out his hands.
She tried to keep her mouth from opening and saying something really, really stupid.
But no such luck as she started to say, “In other words if he doesn’t help you make more money then basically…”
Taylor’s whole body startled as thunder crackled outside the publishing executive’s limo. Heavy drops of rain began pelting the roof of his car, sounding more like fist-sized rocks than balls of water.
Was it a sign from the universe to get the hell out of wherever she found herself caught in right now?
Probably.
But she missed her chance to get out the moment she let Colton’s lips crush her own. Or the moment she let him have sex with her before he even knew where she lived or what her favorite foods were or even what her hopes and dreams were.
Running was no longer an option. When she was little, she’d always wished for one magical power- to make herself invisible from the outside world. If she could have that power now, maybe even more than ever, she would most certainly exercise it.
But she didn’t. And she was determined to see this catastrophe to its end.
Taylor felt her door open behind her. She looked down and watched as drops of rain slammed the tops of York’s personal driver’s shiny black dress shoes as he held the door open for her.
“In case you forgot, Ms. Ward, my company is not a nonprofit. In my world, if I don’t make money, I no longer exist. It’s that simple.”
She shook her head in disgust. “With all due respect, Mr. York, nothing is that simple.”
She locked eyes with him for one last painful moment. “Well then we’ll just have to agree to disagree then, won’t we?” he said.
She purposely raised her eyebrows at him. “When can I see him?”
“Whenever you want to,” he added.
She turned to get ready to get out of the limo, but froze for a moment as he called to her one last time. “One week, Taylor. Don’t forget.”
She thought about turning back around and telling him off, but she’d already pushed the limits enough considering he could pretty much obliterate her from the planet in the blink of an eye.
She remained seated and nodded with her back turned to him. But before she could even make her way up and face the pounding rain, her eyes caught two large brown shoes at the edge of the sidewalk. She followed the pair of legs that belonged to those shoes up, along the tight, muscular landscape. She gasped as her gaze reached that strong, familiar jaw.
Colton.
“Hi Taylor,” he said, smiling as though he’d just returned from Disney World.
Taylor swallowed hard, then looked to his side where two men dressed in black suits stood tall and motionless as rain pelted their broad shoulders. Both men stared blankly at York as they awaited his next command.
“Thanks boys,” York said, nodding to both men. “I’ll take it from here.”
Colton reached his hand out to her; she reached back immediately and Colton easily helped her to her own to feet.
She wanted to wrap her arms around this man and never let him go for the rest of her life.
But she knew she couldn’t, not with Mitch York staring on.
“I believe you’re clear on the terms, yes?” York asked Colton.
Taylor’s eyes bounced between both men. How could any of this be happening to her? Here she was, wedged between two of the most powerful men in the literary world.
Hell, two of the most powerful men in any world.
One thing seemed clear about both of these men- they each belonged to two completely different sides.
The good side.
And the not so good one.
“Indeed we are, Mr. York,” Colton responded.
The publishing executive chuckled. “Oh come on now, Colt. You know me well enough to call me Mitch.”
Colton flashed an ultra fake smile at the silver-haired man. “I know you well enough to call you whatever I want to call you.”
Yikes.
“Okay then,” York said, pausing as he turned to face forward. “I look forward to reading the draft a week from…” His voice trailed off as he looked down at his watch. “Right now.” He snapped his fingers and the limo’s tires started off on a slow roll, allowing just enough time for Colton to nudge the door shut with his foot as the car sped forward.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
She paused to study the beautiful hues in his eyes. She couldn’t believe she was seeing him with own two eyes, and what a sight it was.
“For what?” she said.
His full, pink lips curled at both ends, but there was something hidden behind his smirk this time- something darker than what she was used to seeing from this man.
“To work.”
“You really don’t waste any time, do you?” she said.
“Doesn’t seem like we have any time to waste.” Then he gestured with his head to follow him down the crowded Boston street. “I need you to drive.”
“Are you serious? Why?”
He hesitated as his eyes fluttered from side to side, scanning his surroundings more carefully than she was comfortable with if she was being honest.
She stood frozen. Paralyzed to be a bit more precise. Was she really about to go down this path with him again? Where would he lead her this time?
More importantly, could her heart possibly take another blow without it shattering into a billion pieces?
She squinted her eyes as she locked him in her own gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay to go anywhere right now? You don’t…”
“Seem like myself?” he interrupted. He smirked softly. “Could be because I’m still getting used to the idea that I killed another human being.”
Her eyes widened and she fought back with everything she had not to let a single tear escape.
As the rain began to thicken, Taylor covered her head with her hands to protect herself the only way she knew how from the wet, pounding drops. She took a heavy breath as York’s limo, now several blocks away at a red light and fading more and more in the distance, captured the corner of her eye.
She honestly felt like dying, right then and there on the busy Boston sidewalk. The rain started to pound her body even harder.
Another sign for sure, she thought.
She and Colton made their way back to the university’s underground parking garage, and neither one of them uttered another word along the way. Sure, there was plenty to say, but for now it was silence that seemed like the appropriate option.
Her body was drenched, but it was by far the least of her problems as she unlocked the door on her car. Taylor reached for the car door handle and flinched as his hand suddenly enveloped her wrist.
She dropped her car keys onto the concrete slab beneath her feet.
Not now.
The tears she’d just worked so hard to keep locked inside began to stream down her cheeks as his flesh pressed into the soft, wet skin of her hand. Her whole body erupted into flames and electricity and fear and adrenaline and every other good, and bad, possible feeling she could ever imagine.
All at once.
“I need to see your beautiful face,” Colton rasped in her ear.
She paused for a microsecond, and then spun around to face the man she thought she’d never get this close to again.
She turned to look at him. She took in his face in greater detail this time, making more of a note of the fact that he let his facial hair grow out a bit more, robbing him of that smooth, clean-cut look he’d always seemed to go for. He had a rugged look that drew her senses in even more so than before. It wasn’t just the facial stubble- maybe the plain white T and the dark jeans that hugged his hips and thighs so perfectly well had a little something to do with it too.
But there was something else lurking in his eyes for sure, only she couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a very, very bad one.
“Where have you been all my life?” he whispered.
She shook her head. She could hardly maintain eye contact with him.
“I…”
“What?” he said quietly back to her.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you again.”
He smirked. “Lady, it would take a few dozen tanks to keep me from getting near you.”
She narrowed her eyes and crinkled the skin on her forehead. “Because you always get what you want?”
The billionaire shook his head. “No. I don’t always get what I want. But I make sure as damn hell that I’ll always get you.”
She tried to force herself not to smile but the corners of her mouth refused to obey. “What if I don’t want you to get me?”
He looked down and shook his head and muttered, “That can’t happen.”
“Is this Colton Marcus’ way of saying you care about me?”
“Care?” he said, still looking down. Then he raised his gaze to meet hers, and she swore there were literally flames burning in both of his pupils. “No, not care. I would fucking die for you, Taylor.”
Her heart nearly melted in her chest.
Nobody had ever stood up for her like the way he did. Nobody ever put their own needs aside for her, or made her feel like a goddess, or even believed in her.
Until him.
“What do we do now? What about the deadline and Mitch York? What…”
“Worrying isn’t going to help us. We need to work our way out of this mess.”
“And what if we can’t?” she asked.
He cupped her soft cheeks in his long palms, sending heat down her neck and spine. “Then York will cut me loose. He’ll disown me completely, and without his protection right now, the legal system that’s been dying to eat me alive will finally have its chance.”
Taylor shook her head wildly from side to side. “He can’t do that. You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t deserve-“
“Taylor,” he interrupted. “Listen to me,” he said as he tilted her chin up slightly. “Trying to figure out who’s right and who’s wrong isn’t going to do us a lick of good. Trust me, I know. There’s only one exit in this situation, and if we don’t use it, I’m fucked.”
“You mean we’re fucked,” she said.
Colton’s eyes hardened as he pounded his fists onto the roof of her car. Steam seemed to ooze from his pores as he repeatedly stomped his foot against the concrete.
She reached for his shoulder as she spoke, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I…”
He stood up straight and pulled her body right up against his. Then he pressed himself into her, forcing her butt into the side of her car. “Don’t ever say anything like that again. I need to stay focused right now, and the thought of anything bad happening to you is only going to mess with my head.”
Her heart had already taken a beating in these past five minutes, but it couldn’t help but pound even harder as she watched him oscillate between calm and insane from one moment to the next.
How could he tell me not to worry when he looks so worried himself? How can I possibly relax when the strongest man I’ve ever encountered looks altogether worn out and confused?
The more she thought about it, the more she was beginning to believe what she had just uttered out loud. Only this time she kept it to herself.
We’re fucked.
Colton let out a deep breath. His eyes reminded her of the calm that comes before any record-breaking storm. “Okay,” he muttered.
“Okay what?”
“I have an idea. It could backfire, but it’s all we got.”
“That’s not super reassuring.”
He smirked as he ran his hands down
her sides and over her hips. Then he stepped back from her, and she swore it nearly killed her having his body apart from hers right now.
“Like I said, it’s all we got.”
“Okayy... Do you plan on enlightening me about this Hail Mary plan of yours?”
He paused at first, and then gestured towards her car. “I can’t tell you. I can only show you.”
“Show me?”
He paused almost too long for her to tolerate. His eyes
looked more distressed then she wanted them to.
“What?” she asked.
Colton looked down at her feet, then back up at her, meeting her eyes more head-on than they’d ever been met before. “I refuse to fucking lie to you- these past couple of days have pushed me further to my edge than I ever thought I could go.”
Taylor felt a huge, sudden wave of guilt. After all, she was the one who brought his life to near ruins, not the other way around. ”I feel like I did this to you.”
He shook his head from side to side and then lifted her chin up with only a single finger. She tried to resist him at first, pushing her hand into his rock-hard chest in an effort to push him away. This was one ride she wanted to get off of– the suffering, the fear, the worry.
But her tiny hand couldn’t budge his body. “Look at me,” he said as he pressed her whole body up against her own car. The billionaire author wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body tightly into his. ”You can’t do this to yourself. None of this, and I mean none of this, is even close to your fault.”
”But I–“
He interrupted her immediately, ”But you what? You think that you really caused all of the problems in my life, and yours, up to this point?”
She studied his eyes carefully. Why was he saying these things to her? Why was he treating her this way?
”Why shouldn’t I feel this way? If you hadn’t met me, you wouldn’t be in this mess-”
”Me, in this mess because of you?” he asked, borderline scoffing at her suggestion. “Let me tell you something. And let me be a hundred percent clear about this–I would save your life ten thousand times over again if I had to. I would fucking give up everything I own– the money, the success, the magazine interviews– if it meant keeping you near me… safe, warm, alive.”
