by S. M. Soto
I step into her, toying with the beautiful blond hair that’s braided messily over her shoulder. “You came to me for help, remember? We had a deal, Dirty Girl. It’s time to pay up.”
“Sebastian, I’m not going on a date with you. Part of the plan or not. We’re not doing that.”
“Oh, yes, we are. We still have quite a bit of things to discuss before my statement is released. There’s no stopping this now. You made your decision. You made your bed. Now it’s time for you to lie in it. Preferably beneath me.”
Her lips thin. “Fine. But I need to get dressed and tell Kat. You stay here.” She turns away, but I laugh, following in step beside her.
“Oh, no. I don’t think so, baby. I’m coming with. We can tell her together.”
Panic flares in those big hazel eyes, but she doesn’t say anything or fight me on the matter. She knows just as well as I do that I’ll get my way.
I follow her into the elevator, and I can feel her animosity radiating in the small confined space. She wants to kill me.
Well, that’s too bad.
We ride in silence—me eating her up with my gaze and her staring straight ahead at the mirrored chrome, doing just about anything she can to ignore me.
This is going to be fun.
We get off on Kat’s floor, and Mackenzie unlocks the door but stops, just as she twists the handle. She looks back at me, and something on her face gives me pause.
“Just let me do the talking, okay?”
She pushes inside, and I hear the voice of her friend. “Mack? Where did you go?” Kat’s feet pause when she enters the living room, her gaze drilling holes into me. Her eyes shoot between us, and it doesn’t take long for a disapproving glare to materialize on her face.
“What’s going on? Why are you here? Haven’t you done enough?”
I deserve that.
“We’re…we’re talking about working things out,” Mackenzie is quick to add.
Kat scoffs. “Please tell me you’re kidding. Please tell me you’re smarter than this. Are you forgetting what he’s done? Who he’s friends with?”
Mackenzie deflates at Kat’s words. I’m sure she’s been beating herself up over exactly all that, since making this deal with me, and having Kat tear her down isn’t helping.
“Kat…c’mon.”
“Mackenzie, please don’t do this. Forget him.”
Mackenzie’s eyes fill with tears. It’s the last straw for me. I walk farther into the room, catching Kat’s eye. She’s angry. I can see it in her gaze just how much she hates me. Just how much she doesn’t trust me.
“I own Mackenzie’s rights. I made her parents sign the conservatorship over to me. Everything is in my hands. We made a deal. I keep her name out of the media and stop them from dragging her through the mud, and she gets them reverted to the person of her choosing. That’s why she’s doing this.”
Kat’s eyes widen, shock written all over her face, and anger flashes behind her eyes. “How cruel can you be?”
I slip my hands into my pockets and shrug. “I’m happy to show you.”
Katherine huffs, planting her hands on her hips, and watches Mackenzie through a narrowed gaze. “Are you sure about this? The hate you’re getting won’t last forever, babe. We can get through this without his help.”
Mackenzie works a swallow and nods. “I’m sure.”
She heads into her room to change her clothes, leaving me with Kat. Her feisty friend doesn’t wait a single second. She comes toe to toe with me, glaring up at me. “If you hurt her again, I will kill you myself. Understand me? She’s had enough pain in her life to last a lifetime. Maybe try not to be at the center of it for once.”
She’s not wrong.
I nod my acquiesce as Mackenzie steps out of her room dressed in something more casual, but on her, it looks incredible. There’s something about Mackenzie. It’s inexplicable, but potent. It makes you want to stare at her, get to know her. When I look at her now, it’s almost like I’m staring at a new woman. The hair is a drastic change I’ll need to get used to, but now that I know it’s hers, the real her, I find myself loving it more than the black. She seems less like a vixen this way and much more vulnerable.This is the real Mackenzie Wright.
“Let’s get this over with,” she all but growls.
On our way out, she stops next to Kat, both of them whispering in hushed tones. Kat’s face looks oddly skeptical. She’s obviously not sure this is a smart decision. It probably isn’t.
Mackenzie stews on her anger the entire way down to the car. I settle into the seat next to her and wait for the driver to take off. We’re going to have a very public and purposeful lunch at Le Bernardin. No need to tip off the tabloids or the paparazzi. Mackenzie is such a pinnacle person in social media, at the moment, they’ll find her anyway, wanting to be the first to get the story. The first shot of us back together.
“Why did you do that back there? Why throw yourself under the bus for me?” she asks quietly. I can smell her sweet, intoxicating scent in the confined space. It’s distracting. I have the urge to reach out and drag her into my arms.
I look out the window, unable to look at her while I answer. “So you’ll stop lying to the people around you for once. At least now she knows the truth.”
That wasn’t why I did it. I did it for her. Even though I don’t want to, I care about her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her flinch, my words hitting their intended mark. I want to reach out to her and soothe the ache my words have surely caused, but I can’t do that. That would show too much of my hand to her, and this time around, I need the upper hand. So instead of doing what feels right, I curl my hands into fists and keep my gaze fixed out the window, until we arrive at our destination.
I climb out, holding out my hand for her to take. When she does, I feel the tremor that works its way through her body. Or was that mine? I can no longer tell. Hand in hand, we walk through the entrance, shocked faces and conversations halting, as they pause to stare at us, recognizing us both immediately.
I feel Mackenzie stiffen next to me, obviously uncomfortable with all the attention. The whispers start immediately, and I can practically feel her shrink in on herself, so I squeeze her hand in mine, the only form of support I’m willing to give her at this point. It seems to help. She releases a deep breath and straightens her spine.
We bypass the long line of people waiting to be seated. When we’re shown to our table, she doesn’t waste any time. Obviously, the meek feelings she encountered earlier are over and done with, and in its place is the old Mackenzie I remember from all those months ago, the one who puts on a brave face.
A façade.
“Say what you came here for, so we can go our separate ways.”
I smile at her. I’m sure to everyone else it looks awfully romantic, the way I’m smiling and reaching across the table to take her hand in mine. But to her, she sees it for exactly what it is. A cold smile with no real warmth behind it.
“You’re coming back to Los Angeles with me, and you’ll be staying with me.”
“No, the hell I am!”
“If you want this to work, I need you close.”
“I’ll come back to LA, but you’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m staying with you.”
I shrug. “I guess I can remove Mia from her quarters, and you can stay there instead. She can come stay with me—”
“Fine!” she snaps a little too eagerly. “What other ridiculous rules do you have now?”
“I have another upcoming gala. You’ll need to attend all the events to keep up appearances. I’ve already released statements. Things should already be calming down on the article front of things.”
The tension in her shoulders loosens. “I can do that. What else?”
“You’ll be at my beck and call at all hours, of course.” I lean forward, enjoying the way her eyes light with a fire that’s stoked from deep within. “Whenever I want to fuck you, you come.”
Her lips par
t, and she works a swallow. After some time, she clamps her mouth shut and grits her teeth together, her jaw grinding back and forth. The slender muscles there and in her neck jump with the movement, taunting me, begging for my mouth on her skin.
“Now, if you’re finished, I have some rules of my own. If we do this, if I give you access to my body, then I have a say in what happens to it. And I say no kissing.”
I throw my head back and laugh at the absurdity of the suggestion. Patrons in the restaurant all turn and look our way with curious expressions on their faces, likely wondering what the hell we can be laughing at when, in the media, it’s been portrayed that she hates my guts. And I guess they’re not one hundred percent wrong.
No kissing? That’s just not going to work for me, and I know exactly why she suggested it. The kiss the other night stirred up old feelings, and she’s suddenly afraid.
“No.” I shake my head, taking a sip from the tumbler.
She tenses, her face growing stormy, at my obvious dismissal of her suggestion. “This is my one request. If you can’t hear me out on this, we have no deal.”
I rest my back against the chair, appraising her. She’s serious. I guess I can give her an inch, but I’ll be damned if she takes that mile. Toying with material of the napkin opened up before me, I assess her, the clear look of panic in her eyes. She needs me to agree to this. That’s how desperate she is.
“All right. I can respect that.”
Surprise flits across her features and her eyes widen, like she truly can’t believe I agreed to it. I’m sure there was a part of her that was hoping I wouldn’t agree, so she wouldn’t have to go through with whatever the hell her plan is. “Good. That’s good.” She fidgets in her seat, obviously uncomfortable. Suddenly trapped here with no other way out.
I smirk. “You’ll beg me for it, anyway. I’m not too worried.”
This time she scoffs. “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
“What can I say, I know my assets. And I know you.”
Her lips thin into a grim line, and for a second, it looks like she wants to say more but, eventually, decides not to. She changes the subject instead.
“So, you met my parents. I’m sure that was fun.” She glances up at me as she asks the question, and our gazes lock. Everything she wants to ask is written on her face. All the things she wants to say are there in her eyes.
“Not particularly, no. Monica and Michael are…curious people. Much different than I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?” she asks, truly curious.
Something warmer.
Parents who are just like you. The real you.
“Everything and nothing,” I respond, keeping it vague.
She smiles sadly. “I think I can read between the lines here. They got rid of everything that reminds them of me, didn’t they?” So much emotion reflects back at me in her eyes. She knows the truth, without me even needing to give her an answer.
“I didn’t pay much attention. I was there for one thing. Didn’t care much for the details.”
She scoffs. “Right. And you say I’m the only liar here?”
I inhale a deep breath, leaning forward, crowding her personal space. “What do you want me to say, Mackenzie? That they erased you from their lives? That they praise the life of your sister instead of the daughter they still have alive?”
Her chin wobbles, and I curse under my breath, shaking my head. Too far, asshole.
As if remembering we’re in public, she nods, sniffing back her emotions. “Are we done here? I need to pack.”
I sigh and nod begrudgingly, because there is nothing left to say.
Mackenzie is a lot more broken inside than she’s ever let on, and after my visit with her parents, I’m starting to understand why. I’m slowly understanding her more, and I plan to strip her of all those layers until she’s laid bare.
I feel Kat’s disapproving glare drilling into my back as I finish packing. She’s been giving me that silent glare since I walked back inside after dinner. Heaving a deep sigh, I turn to face her, already feeling weighted down by my decisions.
“Just say it.”
“I think this is a huge mistake.” I’ve never heard her sound more sure of anything, and that frightens me to no end.
“I know you do, but I don’t really have any other choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Mackenzie. And I’m afraid for you. We can’t trust him.”
“I know. But he can’t trust me either.”
She frowns. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Keep your enemies close. That’s why I’m doing this. He gets my body, and I get everything else. I’ve drawn the line in the sand. I know where my limits are and so does he.”
“I’m not stupid. And neither are you. I know you love him. This is a disaster in the making.”
“I know. But there’s no turning back now.”
She drops her head back, looking up at ceiling for strength, but then she nods, coming to terms with this. Kat opens her arms, and on instinct, I fall into her, squeezing her like she’s a lifeline.
“I’m only a call away if you need me.”
“I love you,” I breathe into the comfort of her arms.
After I finish gathering my stuff, I say another round of goodbyes to Kat and Vera, before I get into the black Town Car Baz has sent for me. We’re chartering his private jet back to Los Angeles, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid Kat is right—this is a mistake.
But deep down, I’m even more excited. Sanity is so hard to come by when I’m near this man. It feels like I spend every second reaching for my sanity around him as if it’s a rock in the middle of a river while a fierce current pulls me in the opposite direction.
When I step onto the jet, I scowl when I realize who else is here flying with us. “No. Hell no.”
Both Baz and Marcus glance my way.. “Oh, believe me, princess. I’m not happy with this turn of events either,” Marcus says, rolling his eyes.
I press my lips together in a thin line and glare at Baz. He lied. This wasn’t a part of the plan.
“Take a seat, Dirty Girl.”
Bastards.
I do just that, but there’s no mistaking my attitude. I drop into the open seat next to Baz and find myself sitting straight across from Marcus. We glare at each other like petulant children. I glance away and take in the jet, before I follow through on the urge to slam my fist in his face. It’s been a while since I was last in here, and let me tell you, the grandeur hasn’t changed a bit.
Surprise alights my features when I see Dan materialize at the top of the stairs, carrying one of my smaller bags and depositing it into an overhead cabin. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, and a part of me wants to apologize for all the nonsense I put him through. As if understanding where my thoughts are headed, he does the craziest thing. He shoots me a smile. I think it’s the first and only time I’ve seen the severe man smile, and it catches me so off guard, my mouth hangs open.
As if he didn’t just do something so otherworldly, he gets back to work, and I risk a glance at Baz who’s watching me. I startle when I meet his eyes. They sear into me, searching. Warmth suddenly envelops my chest, making it feel like I’ve swallowed a ball of fire. Marcus clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the silence.
“Stop eye-fucking each other.”
I roll my eyes. “Is there a reason he’s here?”
“In fact, there is. If this is going to work, I need you to play nice, both of you. I get you both have shit from the past, but I really don’t care. We have bigger things to worry about now.”
“Easy for you to say. Marcus didn’t hound you with his friends, choke you against the side of his house, and tell you he’d kill you if you didn’t back down.”
Baz tenses, shooting Marcus a searing look. He at least has the decency to look remorseful. “I told you I was sorry for that. I was scared. I made a lot of mistakes, but he’s right. I don’t trust
you. I think Baz is crazy for letting you back into his life, but I don’t have a say.”
I shoot a questioning look at Baz, to which he meets with a bored mask. When he does this, his eyes look like blocks of ice, impenetrable.
Why didn’t he tell him the truth? Marcus thinks this is real? Why lie to his friends and have me tell the truth to mine? I start rubbing at my temple, feeling a headache come on. I haven’t even been around the man twenty minutes, and he’s already driving me insane.
“And what about the rest of the guys? Should I be buddy-buddy with them, too?”
“No,” Baz answers quickly. Much too quickly. My gaze narrows.
What is happening with them? Are the Savages finally falling apart?
One can only hope.
“Let me handle them. They’ll come around.” He shares a look with Marcus, and my stomach sours.
So many fucking secrets. I’m surprised we can even breathe in here. It’s starting to feel as if they’re burying us.
We spend most of the flight in silence, save for a few short conversations between Baz and Marcus. I try to follow along, to gain intel, and what I get from their discussion are details about Kings and Baz’s other resort ventures. I almost forgot what a businessman he is. A pang of guilt stabs at me as I think about how I tried to destroy everything he worked for in my spite—in my haze of revenge.
He might deserve it, but I’m not at that low point yet. I can’t do that to him. To his friends? Absolutely. I’m still not sure how I’m going to handle them when it comes time.
What would it be like seeing Vincent again for the first time? Does Baz expect us to be friends? I hope not because I am sure if I found anything sharp during that meeting, I’d kill him. Just as he tried to kill me.
My ears perk up when I catch the tail end of their conversation. “I’m sorry. What did you just say? You’re cutting Vincent from the club?” I blurt out, making it obvious I’ve been listening in on their conversation. My heart is pounding. I couldn’t have heard that right.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Baz asks, raising a brow.
“I…I don’t understand.”
