“Which means you’d be working with criminals?”
His question dispelled my irritation and my shoulders dropped. It hadn’t occurred to me that Sebastian was worried about my safety when it came to my career path, but it made sense with his background and childhood. No wonder he was so against me getting a job in my profession.
“I don’t have a problem with you working, Rosslyn. I’m not that kind of man. I’d give anything for your happiness—anything you want—but I do have a problem with you wanting to work with criminals. I know criminals,” he continued when I was unable to respond. “I know what they’re capable of. I know the way their minds work—the way they think—and I don’t want you anywhere around that or them. You mean too much to me. I can’t stand by and watch as you throw yourself in their path. I can’t ...”
Getting up, I walked around the table to fit myself into Sebastian’s lap. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I squeezed him to me and placed my lips on his. He tasted of cheap wine and roasted chicken. His lips moved against mine, as he tasted me. A low moan worked its way across his tongue and vibrated my mouth. When I pulled away, he licked his bottom lips as if he couldn’t get enough of me.
His forehead was warm against mine when I rested mine against his. Closing my eyes, I breathed in his familiar scent and instantly felt safe.
“Sebastian, you have to trust that after all this time with you and the things you’ve taught me, I can take care of myself. I know criminal law isn’t exactly glamorous, but it’s not all dangerous either. I’m not going to go looking for trouble. I can find a job we’re both comfortable with.”
He had shifted away and sighed against my hair before he twisted his fingers in the loose waves beside my face. “I don’t know, Ross …”
“We have to learn to compromise, Sebastian. That’s the only way we’re going to work. Now and after we’re married.”
His eyes met mine—blue against green—love and understanding present in both gazes.
“What kind of compromise?”
I smiled.
I was working my way into his reserve. “How about I get a job between now and the wedding? We’ll give it a trial run to see how both of us adjust to it. After the wedding, I’ll focus on getting my master’s.”
I knew if I could get Sebastian to agree, we would be heading in the right direction. I didn’t want to have to think about what marriage would be like with someone I loved but who couldn’t compromise with me when it came to important life decisions.
His breath came out with a harsh sound, but I knew what that meant. He was going to meet me halfway with this. I didn’t wait for him to respond because his body language already gave me his response. I pulled him closer and smiled down into his gorgeous face.
“I love you, Sebastian Black,” I vowed, kissing him hard and long.
He kissed me back, his fingers twisting in the back of my dress and pulling me closer. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to mine and exhaled.
“The second I feel like your safety is in danger, we pull the plug on this whole idea. I can support anything you want to do, but I can’t support something that could take you away from me.”
I stroked his face, tracing the line of his jaw and down the sides of his neck. With closed eyes, I took in his essence. “Nothing could take me away from you, Sebastian. Nothing.”
OUR NIGHT TOGETHER WAS ALMOST perfect. Rosslyn loved the building and the restaurant idea. I could see the sparkle in her eyes as she took in the room and visualized what the place could be in her mind. Making her happy made me happy, so until she brought up the subject of going to work, I was content.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of hardened criminals surrounding her. The thought had never crossed my mind when she was in school for criminal justice, and I hadn’t thought past her graduation. I just knew seeing her flourish in her classes made me feel proud. Seeing her confidence build as her GPA rose and her professors praised her—it was amazing to watch.
It wasn’t until she walked across the stage at graduation and began talking about all the possibilities she had with her new degree that it sank in.
Criminal Justice.
Criminals.
The woman I loved would be working with dangerous people. I knew dangerous people and hardened criminals; I knew their inner workings. I couldn’t fathom the idea of her working alongside the same people I’d once rubbed elbows with. I didn’t want to think about the terrible things they’d be thinking about her.
About her body.
Her smile.
Nausea swept over me.
I had to protect her. I had to make her understand how unsafe it was for a woman like her to work with criminals, and I had until our wedding day to press that understanding into her.
Rosslyn wasn’t helpless. She was amazing. She was strong—vital—but I’d seen the strongest struggle to survive with those types of people. I’d struggled. I couldn’t stand by and watch as she willingly threw herself in the path of menace.
So when a few weeks went by without even a callback from her many interviews, I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t completely relieved. Don’t get me wrong—I felt bad that she was starting to feel rejected, but the relief was overwhelming.
In the mornings, after I’d spend the night in the club, I’d crawl into bed next to her and pull her small frame tight against my body. I’d breathe her in and silently thank any god willing to listen for keeping her out of harm’s way—for keeping her away from working with criminals.
I knew the relief I was feeling would only last so long. Rosslyn would be a valuable commodity to any program she found herself working for, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before someone realized that. Until then, I relished in her safety, knowing that every minute we weren’t together she was safe, somewhere tucked away from the mean streets of New York and the dangerous criminals who roamed them.
Thinking of all the ways working with criminals could harm Rosslyn had me so distracted that I didn’t even hear Mac come into my office. My head snapped up when he dropped the day’s mail onto my desk. My eyes lingered on the stack of envelopes then I acknowledged him.
“Anything good today, Mac?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on if you think another mysterious letter from our little friend is something good.”
I flipped through the envelopes, finding the one without a return address and its familiar slanted writing.
Shaking my head, I chuckled sarcastically. “This fucker isn’t letting up.”
“Nope.” Mac took the seat in front of my desk and rested his large arms against his thighs. “Ready to let me deal with this now?”
I shook my head as I ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter.
“That won’t be necessary, Mac. Like I said before, I’m sure this guy’s just …”
And then my eyes took in the threatening words that littered the mostly empty sheet of paper.
My body stiffened as anger streaked across my soul.
This letter was different from the rest.
Not only did this fucker mention Rosslyn, but he also signed it with some ridiculous nickname. The script suddenly looked angry and jagged—dangerous. I’d always blown off the bullshit letters thinking it was some head case trying to get his kicks, but this shit was different. This time, it sounded like a threat against what was mine—against my Rosslyn.
“You okay, Black? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mac asked.
“Find the motherfucker sending these letters, Mac. Find him and bring him to me.”
My eyes locked with Mac’s, understanding passed between the two of us, and he nodded.
“Consider it done.”
I didn’t remember much about the rest of my conversation with Mac, but I did know he left with the intention of bringing me the man responsible for threatening me and threatening what was mine.
Later, once the club had closed for the nig
ht, I climbed the stairs to our condo and crept through the place careful not to wake Rosslyn. I went straight into the bathroom and stripped down naked before I stepped under the scalding shower water.
I washed away the night of worry.
I washed away the smell of alcohol and smoke that came with owning a club.
I washed away the regrets that I held.
I should have listened to Mac. I should have sent him on a search for the author of the mystery letters much sooner. And when he brought the person forth, I’d be sure to show them exactly what threatening me or the woman I loved got them.
THE FOLLOWING DAY, ROSSLYN AND I went to sample cakes. I spent the day surrounded by frilly things and flowers, tasting some of the most delicious cakes I’d ever tasted. Still, a sourness settled into my stomach that I knew wouldn’t go away until Mac brought me what I’d asked for.
I pretended all was well and kept a smile plastered on my face even though my heart wasn’t in it completely. It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited about the wedding; it was that I couldn’t get rid of the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was taking away all of my joy. Even when Rosslyn looked up at me with almond crème icing slathered around her sweet lips, I couldn’t feel anything but fear.
I wasn’t afraid of anything.
At least, I never was until I met Rosslyn.
I had so much more to lose now than I did when I was young and stupid.
“And what about the guest list?” the baker asked as she chatted with Rosslyn at my side. “Your mother, your father? All the family will be there?”
Her question was like a lightning strike to my spine. I saw the exact moment that same lightning struck Rosslyn, too. Her back straightened and all the pretty pink hues on her happy cheeks disappeared.
Guilt thickened in my gut with the fear and sourness. Suddenly, I felt as though all the cake I’d tasted came rushing up the back of my throat—sweet and choking.
“Actually,” Rosslyn started before clearing her throat. “My parents are no longer with us.”
No longer with us.
It sounded much better than, “my fiancé murdered my mother and father.”
Which was essentially what I’d done.
Sure as I pulled the trigger myself, I’d killed them.
Thanks to me, their daughter would walk down the aisle without her father on her arm. No one would give her away and it was my fault. There would be no mother there with a gaudy flower pinned to her mother-of-the-bride dress suit. None of that would happen for Rosslyn, and I’d made it so.
As if sensing my inner disturbance, Rosslyn placed a soft hand on top of mine. My eyes met her, and I tried with all that I was to tell her I was sorry in those few seconds that she looked at me, but no words would roll over my thick, dry tongue.
“Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that,” the baker replied.
Sorry.
Was I going to be sorry for the rest of my life?
I would have no more regrets from this moment on. I’d make sure of that, which meant I’d find the person who threatened anything or anyone in my life. And when I found them, I’d kill them, too.
FINALLY, WHEN I WAS ABOUT to give up, I received a call from Judy Lands. She ran the parole and probation department at the local courthouse. Apparently, they were willing to overlook the fact that I hadn’t received my bachelor’s degree yet since I’d had so many glowing recommendations from the different places where I’d volunteered.
This was fabulous news.
Sure, being a probation officer wasn’t ideal. And I was positive Sebastian would blow a gasket when he found out—if he found out—but I couldn’t very well turn her down. It was the first callback I’d gotten after weeks of follow-up calls.
“Sure. I can be there at eight on Monday morning,” I replied into the phone.
Technically, I didn’t have the job yet. I still had to go in to interview, and I was required to pass an oral, a written, and a psychological exam. Still, I was excited that something seemed to be moving along in the job hunt.
“Who was that?” Sebastian asked when I set my phone down.
“It was Jennifer from legal aid. She thinks they might have a position for me,” I lied.
My chest ached with my lie. It felt wrong to be untruthful with the man I’d be marrying soon, and I hated myself even more when I looked up and saw the trust in his eyes. He smiled, his dimples deepening and making him look even more gorgeous.
“The place you’ve been volunteering at?”
“Yep. Same place.”
My tongue felt heavy with dishonesty, and I swallowed hard hoping to clear the bile that was starting to rise up the back of my throat.
“That’s great, baby. At least this way I won’t have to worry about you nonstop. Legal aid’s a nice place.”
My insides warmed when he called me baby. Sebastian wasn’t one for pet names. It was either Rosslyn or Jessica if he was feeling frisky. Him calling me baby meant he was very happy with the turn of events. Meanwhile, I felt like total crap for lying to him so easily.
I spent the weekend feeling sick with guilt. Several times, I almost told him the truth, but then I’d think about how badly I wanted to work and help provide—I’d think about how badly I wanted to make a difference—and I’d cave and keep my secret.
On Sundays, I would help with the club. Mostly, I would work in Sebastian’s office filing paperwork and going through invoices. It wasn’t much, but I loved doing little things to help when I could. Sebastian loved the club, and it meant so much to him to watch it succeed. That meant I wanted the same.
I’d been filing for a little over an hour when Mac came in. He came to a halt when he saw me standing there. He was wearing a look of agitation, but he tried to mask it unsuccessfully.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
Over the last week or so, Mac had changed toward me. He was anxious—nervous in a way he’d never been before. I didn’t like it.
“I didn’t know you were in here.” He backed toward the door to leave.
“Just filing paperwork,” I said waving invoices around. “I think Sebastian’s in the VIP section. Some liquor emergency.”
He nodded stiffly. “I’ll go check down there.”
“Are you okay, Mac?” I asked before he could escape, which was what he was clearly trying to do.
“Of course.” His poker face wavered. “Are you okay?”
His question threw me off.
“Yeah, of course. I’m marrying the man of my dreams, I might have a job, and life is good. What could be wrong, right?”
He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t really expect him to. I knew what I could tell Mac was limited. We might be friends, but ultimately, his loyalty belonged to Sebastian. If he thought I was doing something Sebastian wouldn’t be happy about, he would definitely be the one to tell him.
“Have you ever kept a really big secret because you thought you were doing the right thing?” I asked, suddenly wishing I could take the question back.
He nodded. “Definitely.”
Without another word, he left the room, leaving me staring after him clueless to his new behavior.
INSTEAD OF HAVING MARTIN DRIVE me to my interview on Monday, I took my car. I hardly ever drove it, so it mostly stayed parked. Sebastian bought it for me when I first started my classes at Tech. I’d insisted on walking to and from my classes because I didn’t want Martin to wait around for each of my classes to end to drive me around. It felt wrong. Plus, I was hell-bent on having a normal college experience.
I woke up the day before my first class to a black Honda Civic parked out front. It was brand new— the only miles on the thing were from the dealership to our condo —and it was mine. Sebastian refused to take it back, and after two days of having Martin drive me from class to class, I gave in and accepted the Honda.
I was never gladder that I’d done so. As I drove across town, I was thankful that I didn’t have to include anyone else in my
lies. Martin knew where legal aid was, so I couldn’t have him drive me. Martin and I were close, and I was sure he’d pretend to be clueless to my deception, but I couldn’t drag him into this.
No.
Driving myself was a much better idea.
The streets changed before my eyes, going from nice and clean to cracked and trashed. A man stumbled down the sidewalk, obviously drunk as he burrowed into his threadbare coat. I felt terrible doing it, but I reached down and locked my car doors when I stopped at a red light.
I hadn’t been on this side of town in months. Occasionally, when Sebastian would crave a greasy burger from The Pit Stop, we’d drive over and stuff ourselves with unhealthy goodness. Those were some of my favorite times. Days when we would just get in the car, drive to The Pit Stop, and laugh over burgers and fries.
It was as if he were a different person when it was just him and me, and I loved the man he was when he wasn’t being Sebastian Black—club owner extraordinaire. When he was just Sebastian—my boyfriend.
Of course, I felt safe with Sebastian on the wild streets of New York, but driving them alone was a completely different story.
I passed The Pit Stop and smiled to myself. Just looking at the outside of the old run-down building sent my memories reeling. I thought about the first time Sebastian ever took me to the bad side of town and how it almost turned deadly.
Sebastian grinned over at me then looked out the window once more.
“Change of plans, Martin. Let’s go to the other side of town and make a pit stop.”
Instead of the expected expensive restaurant, Sebastian took me to a hole-in-the-wall burger joint called The Pit Stop. It was on the darker side of the city. The outside of the building looked sketchy, and the people who were coming from inside looked even worse.
“Are you that embarrassed by the way I dress?” I tried to control the edge in my voice and avoided all eye contact with him.
“What are you talking about?” He sounded genuinely confused.
Waving my arm, I said, “Didn’t you bring me to this place so I wouldn’t taint your reputation?”
Little Black Box Set (The Black Trilogy) Page 25