Wild Rebel

by Laurelin Paige

  Not too much later, someone else paused as he stepped out of the club, long enough to pull a smoke out of his pocket and get it lit.

  “Can I bum one?” I hadn’t even made the conscious decision to ask before the words were out.

  The guy looked me over, probably deciding if I meant to mug him or if I really just wanted a cigarette. Then he pulled the pack out and handed me one followed by his lighter.

  “Thanks, man.” I inhaled just enough to light the end before handing the lighter back. When he was on his way and I was alone again, I took a long drag and inhaled deeply.

  Instantly, I was back there. Back to the night she’d kissed my stripes. She’d slipped out later to meet me at our spot. As she crouched down next to me, I handed her the cigarette I’d been smoking, then lit another for myself.

  She hadn’t had to say anything for me to know he’d punished her too. For what, it didn’t matter. For helping me. For being caught with me. For something else entirely.

  “Was it...terrible?” I cringed because of course it was terrible. It was always terrible.

  She stared out into the distance and didn’t answer, which wasn’t unusual. She didn’t like to talk about the punishments. Fortunately, she didn’t get them very often. Not as often as I did anyway. Headmaster Stark must have really been on a tear today.

  I reached a hand out to settle on her arm. “Do I need to be putting antibiotic on your back?”

  She took a drag off her cigarette, then blew it out before answering. “He doesn’t like to leave marks on me.”

  I wanted to hold her, but she didn’t like to be held when she was in this mood. She seemed to think it was a suffering she had to handle on her own, and no matter how many times I tried to tell her differently, tried to tell her we were in this together and she didn’t have to take it on alone, I’d yet to convince her.

  It tore me up inside that I couldn’t bear it for her. It was agony worse than any punishment her father could give.

  “We’re going to fly away, Jol,” I said, wanting to give her the hope she’d given me earlier. It sounded stupid when I said it to myself, but out loud to her, it was a promise.

  She looked at me then, looked at my hand resting at my side next to hers. Then she linked her pinkie in mine, and I wondered if she knew that she’d saved me, just by being there, just by being who she was, and I prayed with all my soul that I could do the same for her.

  Praying had obviously gotten me nowhere.

  Or was it only now that those prayers were being answered?

  I tossed my unfinished cigarette in the snow. My muscles were stiff from the cold, but I pushed them forward, trucking back to the hotel at top speed, urgency buzzing in my blood.

  I pushed through the breakfast crowd in the lobby and hit the elevator button over and over, willing it to get there faster. Then once inside, I hit the floor button with as much vigor. Finally, I was bursting into the suite, then throwing open the bedroom door.

  She was awake, but from the glazed way she looked at me, just barely.

  “We won’t kill him,” I declared. “We’ll destroy him.”

  Her brows furrowed as she tried to get context. Then she frowned. “But—”

  “He’ll be out of your life. For good.” Whether we had to set him up or dig up a real scandal, we would bring Langdon Stark down.

  I waited for her to argue. I could feel her on the brink of it, but if she was really as desperate as she said she was, then she’d take what she could get, and this was what I could give.

  She must have realized that because all she said was, “Okay.”

  Then before she got all weepy or grateful, I set the record straight. “And I’m doing this for me. Not for you. Got it?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  “Okay,” she said again, the corners of her mouth lifting in a wary smile.

  Okay. We were doing this. Okay.

  Our eyes locked, and I could practically hear her echoing thoughts. Finally, we’re doing this. Okay.

  “Good. Get dressed. We leave in ten.” I tore my eyes away, but not before noticing she’d lost the shirt sometime during the night and now only had the sheet wrapped around her.

  No time for thinking about that. We had work to do. We had someplace to be.

  And if we were going to do this, we were going to need Donovan.

  Fourteen

  Donovan’s office wall was opaque, and his door was shut when we arrived. Which meant he was either with a client or he was in a mood.

  I hoped it was the former.

  “He alone in there, Simone?” I asked his secretary, the same one he’d had in Tokyo, so I knew her well.

  “He is, but—”

  There wasn’t any but between partners. Still, it was probably best to go in by myself first in case he was rubbing one out under his desk. “Hang here a second,” I told Jolie, then entered Donovan’s office without knocking, ignoring Simone’s protests.

  He was at his desk—both hands visible and working, thank God—and only gave me a fleeting glance before turning back to his computer. “I don’t have time for it.”

  I guffawed. “You don’t even know what it is.”

  “Doesn’t matter what it is, unless you’re here to help me, and if you are I’m grateful for the offer, but seeing how you’re dressed…” He gave a disapproving frown at my hoodie and jeans. “That doesn’t appear to be the case, so go away.”

  His dismissive tone would have sent most of his subordinates scurrying away.

  But I wasn’t a subordinate. “You forget I’ve worked with you long enough to know you can handle a day’s load in an hour and spend the rest of the day busying yourself with your other interests. Whatever side project you’re obsessed with today, I have one that will top it.”

  It was the right bait, and he hesitated before shaking his head. “I have actual work to do. Weston’s out on his honeymoon—”

  Oh, whoa. Wait. “He’s going on a real honeymoon for a fake wedding?”

  “Would you quiet down?” He gestured toward the door, which I’d left slightly ajar. “And yes. It needs to look legit.”

  I kicked the door the rest of the way closed. “He’s heard of internet, right? Surely he can still handle putting together marketing packages from a beach.”

  “Sabrina and I can handle it. But that means I need to be actually handling it and not you.”

  I bit my cheek so I wouldn’t go off on his inference that I needed to be handled. “I’ll pitch in with Weston’s shit. Throw me at whatever. I’m yours to command.”

  Again, he looked tempted. I very rarely offered assistance. He had to be itching to take advantage of that.

  But after a few seconds, he shook his head. “It’ll be easier to just do it all myself.”

  I swallowed a growl and the urge to kick him in his arrogant nutsack, and forced myself to be on my best behavior. To be fair, I was showing up unannounced, expecting him to drop everything to dig up a scandal on a man who had tormented me almost two decades ago.

  On the other hand, this was exactly Donovan’s jam.

  “Look, D, I wouldn’t be here if I had another option. We need your help. The kind of help only you can give.”

  Finally, his hands moved off the keyboard. He swiveled in his chair, giving me his full attention. “You decided to do it?”

  Got him.

  I tried not to be too smug. “We’re not going to kill him literally. We’re going to kill him in the figurative sense.”

  “What a brilliant idea. Wonder where you got it?” Donovan didn’t bother hiding his smugness at all. His eyes narrowed, his jaw working, and I knew he was already seven steps ahead of me, various ideas of vengeance playing out in his mind. “You’re doing all the advertising performance reports.”

  Shit. Advertising reports were the fucking worst. “Fine.”

  “There’s a significant stack.”

  He was gloating, but I refused to appea
r fazed. “Cool. Whatever.” I opened the door, stuck my head out, and found Jolie sitting on the waiting area sofa. I gestured for her to join us and turned to Simone. “Make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

  Simone was a professional who somehow managed to work with the likes of Donovan. Partner title or not, she wasn’t about to take orders from me, and her single-raised eyebrow made sure I knew it.

  Fortunately, her real boss intervened. “No disruptions unless it’s Sabrina,” he called out.

  The guy was definitely whipped.

  He defended himself without me saying anything. “She’s been thrown into her boss’s job. I’m not leaving her to that alone. It would be bad for the company.”

  “Right. It’s about the company.” I dropped it, though, as Jolie stepped in the room, passing by me. I hadn’t given her a chance to shower, but she must have freshened up her perfume because that cherry-blossom scent drifted to my nose, mixed with the familiar scent of her, and while I’d never been a delicate kind of guy, my knees actually felt like they might buckle.

  I pulled the door shut behind her, glad I had the knob to hold on to for support.

  “Wasn’t that wall see-through the other day?” she asked, first noticing the clouded glass before the domineering dickwad behind the desk.

  I could have kissed her for that blow to Donovan’s ego.

  Not literally, of course.

  Though now I was thinking about her lips when I had no business thinking about them.

  “It transforms at the push of a button,” Donovan explained as he came around his desk and walked over to us. “I prefer the opaque when I’m working. Less of a distraction.” He threw a glare in my direction that I didn’t have a chance to decipher before he stuck his hand out toward Jolie. “And since it doesn’t look like this asshole is going to do it, I’m Donovan Kincaid.”

  Oh, right. Introductions. He already knew so much about her, it felt like they’d already met.

  With a warm smile, she put her hand in his. “Jolie—” She stopped abruptly, as though she were about to say her last name and decided against it for some reason. “Jolie.”

  “Julianna Lucille Stark,” I corrected. Because she might be trying to run away from who she’d been, but who she’d been was entirely the reason she was here right now.

  Her smile went from warm to tight. “I go by Jolie now.”

  “Ah. So that’s why we couldn’t find you.” He’d already considered the possibility, of course, and had suggested it numerous times. “Maybe she changed her name.”

  “But wouldn’t there be a record?” It hadn’t occurred to me that she might have done it unofficially.

  She turned her gaze toward me for the first time since meeting Donovan. “You looked for me?”

  Her tone was genuinely surprised, which in turn, surprised me. I’d always assumed the reason I couldn’t find her was because she hadn’t wanted me to find her. But that presumed she’d expected me to look.

  There was probably more to it to wonder about, but I was more concerned with what Donovan’s slip gave away about me. Like the impression that I cared.

  I did, obviously.

  Or I had. I wasn’t sure anymore which it was, but I was sure I didn’t want her help figuring it out.

  I shrugged, trying to blow it off. “Didn’t look that hard. I don’t talk to my mother anymore. Thought you could give me a bit of news from the home front.” Plausible. Likely, even.

  She held my gaze, though, looking at me in a new way, as if she saw more to me than she saw before. More than I wanted her to see.

  Fucking Donovan.

  I shot him daggers, which he returned with a smirk.

  “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you, Jolie. Let me take your coat.” He helped her with it while I took off my own. “Ready to get started? I imagine we have a lot to get through.”

  He handed her coat to me to hang up, like I was the unnecessary component of this meeting, and ushered her to take a seat before returning to the other side of his desk.

  Like I said before, fucking Donovan.

  “I don’t know what you’ve been told…” she said, twisting in her chair so she could see me at the closet.

  See? I was still important here. “Assume Donovan knows everything. If I haven’t already told him, he’s figured it out on his own. He has a knack for…” I trailed off, weighing the desire to tell the truth with how much trouble it might get me in with him to say it.

  “Knowing things?” he offered when I took too long.

  “I was going to say getting involved in other people’s shit without their invitation. But that works.”

  It earned me a glare. “It’s that knack that’s helping you right now, so I’d be careful with your attitude.”

  I shut the closet door harder than need be. I’d helped him out a time or two or seven. Perhaps I needed to remind him.

  “Thank you for this,” Jolie said sincerely. “If he hasn’t said it yet.”

  “He hasn’t. But I’m pretty sure I owe him one so there’s no need.” No reminder necessary, it seemed.

  “Only owe me one?” I perched on the arm of the sofa.

  He stared at me for a beat. “If we get into the game of who owes whom, Cade, we’re going to waste a lot of valuable time, but if you want to play, by all means.”

  There was more to the admonishment than appeared on the surface, and I deserved the callout. Here I was, picking at him after I’d practically begged him to help. It wasn’t him who I resented. It wasn’t even Jolie.

  It was myself.

  I hated myself for getting involved when I’d been set on closure. The thing was, and I hadn’t yet been able to admit it, I was beginning to realize I couldn’t have closure without first getting involved.

  So I needed to just fucking commit and stop being a dick about it. “We’re cool. Let’s get on with this.”

  “Great.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a notepad wrapped in a pretentious executive style cover and dropped it on the desk. “What can you tell me, Jolie?”

  She looked at me again, and I could read her question without her having to say it.

  “You can trust him,” I said, fully aware that her need to hear that meant she trusted me.

  Ironic, wasn’t it? That she had all the faith in me now that I’d wished she’d had back then. I didn’t know how to feel about that, so I tried my best to pretend I didn’t feel anything.

  Thankfully, her attention was now on Donovan, so she couldn’t see how badly I failed. “What is it you need?”

  Donovan grabbed a gold-coated ballpoint pen from his front jacket pocket and removed the cap. “Information. Leads. I need to see where the opportunities are to find dirt on your father.”

  “What if what you find isn’t enough to destroy him?”

  “We’ll make sure it does,” Donovan assured.

  Determined to play nice, I backed him up. “D has a knack for that as well.”

  “Seems you’re a talented man.” She practically purred, which was her way with people in general, but it made my hands bunch into fists all the same. “And you run a marketing firm? Why do I have a feeling you missed your calling?”

  He pointed a finger to correct her. “I run an international marketing firm. But don’t worry—I have plenty of other hobbies.”

  “I like this guy,” she said with a wink.

  “Don’t.” So much for playing nice.

  “Can’t help it.”

  “He’s taken.”

  “That’s not what she likes about me, Cade. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Wisely, he didn’t give me a chance to bite back. “So opportunities for dirt—as you’ve likely realized by now, accusations of abuse aren’t strong enough to do the kind of destruction we’re looking for. Too much he said/she said involved, and there are statutes of limitations. We need something with meat—money laundering, theft, bribery, gambling, or a sex scandal could have potential. He hasn’t happened to murder anyone, has he?” />
  “Um.” She glanced at me as if to ask Is he for real? I nodded. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Too bad. That would be a nail in his coffin for sure.” He jotted something down on his notepad. “Still might be something we could explore. Does he have any enemies?”

  Okay, maybe I was looking for reasons to crap on his ideas now, but this had to be said. “We’re not going to kill someone just to frame him. The whole reason we’re here is to not kill someone.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting that we kill anyone. Just, you know, some people end up dead all on their own.”

  I gave him a glare that I hoped he understood as knock it off.

  Jolie didn’t seem bothered by the exchange or by our attempts to out-piss each other. Or she was too busy considering options for destruction to really pay attention. “Isn’t a sex scandal another he said/she said kind of thing?”

  “You’re correct there. But if there’s any chance he’s fucking minors... That would be a tough one to sell if it’s not true, though, and you’ll need a bunch of victims or hardcore evidence to pull it off.” Her brow wrinkled, and he added, “Like bastard children. Semen on a blue dress from the Gap isn’t going to get him more than a slap on the wrist.”

  Her lips twitched with a smile that couldn’t quite force itself to form. “I guess that takes sex scandal off the list. Sad, isn’t it? That fucking with people’s money holds more weight than fucking with people’s kids?”

  Donovan grew gravely serious, which was saying something since the man was pretty serious in general. “It’s not just sad, Jolie, it’s disgusting. Which is why I have no qualms about creating a scandal from scratch, if need be.”

  “That’s comforting.” Another trusting glance toward me. “I think.”

  “It’s this or murder,” I said, laying down the facts. I didn’t need to add that if she chose the latter, I was out.

  She nodded. “I’m good with this.”

  “So tell me about him.” Donovan propped his pen up, ready to write. “Who does he spend time with? Who are his friends? Who does he not seem to like? What are his hobbies? What does he do with his days off?”

  Jolie chuckled. “Oh, is that all you want to know?”