Bad Boy Boxed Set

by Whiskey, D. G.

  This was new—Liam had never mentioned this about Arthur. He couldn’t have known. Arthur had been his parents’ friend for his entire life, but there was more to it than that.

  “It couldn’t have been that complete,” I pointed out. “Liam’s mom cheated on him, and that’s what you used to blackmail him.”

  “Lies. All of it. The pictures I sent him were real, but that was just an old friend of hers. There is no more proof showing an affair. There never was an affair. Denise was too perfect to cheat on her husband.”

  I stared at Arthur. The entire plot was based on nothing but thin air. “So Liam is his father’s son?”

  “Liam is a royal, there’s no doubt. It was the only thing I could think of to leverage against him—until you came along.”

  The hair on the back of my neck raised at the way he looked at me.

  “When Carla became pregnant, I shielded Liam from the truth and pressured her to have an abortion. I kept her on the hook until she could be useful.”

  “You’ve been planning this for a long time,” I said. “Is this all because Liam’s father beat you to the girl? You’ve been sitting on your jealousy for decades, waiting for a stab at the fortune you thought would be yours?”

  Arthur’s hand tightened on the gun, but he didn’t bring it to bear.

  “I had to watch the woman of my dreams fall in love with my cousin while I remained their close, dear friend. Had to become godfather to their son, and watch as he grew up as perhaps the most privileged person on the planet. All the while, investment after investment failed, and my estate has sunk even deeper into debt.”

  I’d heard enough. “So you are entitled. You think that because you liked a girl thirty years ago, you deserve a piece of her family’s money? It’s not Liam’s fault that your investments haven’t produced miraculous results. Why don’t you declare bankruptcy?”

  Arthur scoffed. “And lose the family’s lands? It doesn’t even matter at this point—the banks stopped lending to me long ago. I’ve had to borrow money from horrible people—people who will stop at nothing to recoup their losses. Bankruptcy won’t prevent them from coming for me.”

  I stared. “They would kill a member of the British royal family?”

  Despite working outside the law and associating with certain elements of the criminal world, the thought of such a bold attack was disconcerting.

  “They wouldn’t flinch.” Arthur aged a decade in a matter of moments. “The ultimatum has already been delivered.”

  “Why not just ask Liam for help? You are his favorite family member, and a mentor to him his entire life! Why didn’t you just ask him, instead of blackmailing him? This is madness, Arthur!”

  His hand holding the gun crashed into the kitchen counter, and I flinched.

  “You do not understand what it’s like, do you, Addison? Being the laughingstock of an elite family, struggling while everyone else is living in luxury. I’ve been working against a financial headwind my entire life, forced to make risky investments and hope they pay off big time. None of them have—of course none of them have. The humiliation I live with daily is worse than the fear for my own life. If I had to ask my cousin’s son to pay off my debts for me, I would be emasculated to where life would stop being worth living.”

  His entire thought process was foreign. Standing on my own two feet was immensely satisfying, but I’d rather live on the generosity of my relatives than extort their money from them.

  “There’s no shame in asking for help, Arthur. It’s better than this.”

  “Shut your mouth, Addison. You don’t know the hell I’ve been through in my life. This was the perfect plan until you figured things out. Liam would track down Carla, realize she wasn’t the blackmailer, and then panic because he had no leads on the real perpetrator behind the scheme. From my position as his most trusted advisor, I’d tell him to simply pay the money and wash his hands of it, and it would be done.”

  I shook my head slowly. “Arthur. This isn’t the way to go. Just talk to Liam—I know he’ll want to help you. No one else has to know. He wouldn’t tell a soul.”

  “I can’t trust that. And even if that were true, I would know. I would live the rest of my life knowing it was on the sufferance of my cousin’s son—the man who stole my fortune.”

  His eyes shone with a fanatical brightness, the likes of which I’d seen only a few times before. That’s when I finally understood.

  He’s mad. Somehow, he’s convinced himself that this is the only way for him, and he’s seized upon it like a rabid dog.

  If I couldn’t convince him to see reason, then I had to find some other way to extricate myself from the situation.

  “Can we at least call Liam and have a reasonable conversation about this? He deserves to know the truth. He’ll find out, anyway.”

  Arthur shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. The only two people who know the full truth are sitting in this room. One of them won’t tell Liam, but the other will.”

  My heart sank at the look in his eye.

  “Arthur, don’t do anything rash. I know you’re in a tough place right now, financially and mentally, but there’s a way out without violence.” I edged the kitchen chair back a few inches, tensing to either lunge at the man or dodge the shot I could sense coming.

  He continued on as if I hadn’t said a word.

  “If I dispose of you, Liam won’t be any wiser. I’ll just say you never arrived, and it will look as though the blackmailer followed through on their threat. With Liam mourning your disappearance and the other threats still hanging over his head, it will be simple to convince him to transfer the money.”

  He leveled the gun and pointed it at me.

  24

  ~ Liam ~

  Come on. Come on!

  I opened my mouth to tell Gerald to swerve around the car ahead of us waiting to turn left, but he was already gunning it.

  “How much further, Gerald?”

  “Only two minutes, Mr. Windsor.”

  I gritted my teeth and settled back into the seat. Every red light was enough to make me claw the armrests in frustration. Gerald, understanding the urgency, had even run a few when we were the car at the front of the queue.

  We got close enough that the trees and houses became familiar. One more turn, and we were there.

  The car was still rolling when I opened the door and hit the pavement running.

  Six huge, bounding leaps later, I reached the front door and yanked it open so hard that my shoulder popped.

  The scene inside the room registered in my mind like a static image, a tableau of carefully posed pieces.

  Addison sitting at the kitchen table, her back to me, her brilliant red hair spilling over her back and shoulders like liquid fire.

  Arthur, standing across the room, holding a gun at shoulder height and pointing it at my beloved. His eyebrows flew up, and he flinched, turning toward where I stood in the open door.

  A loud, ear-shattering bang exploded in the tiny room, and hot, searing pain fountained in my shoulder.

  The excruciating torment drove me to the ground, unlike anything I’d ever felt.

  “Liam!”

  I’d fallen propped against the wall, and through the pain-soaked daze that enveloped me, I watched Addison launch herself from her chair and tackle Arthur. He did nothing to prevent the contact, his eyes on mine, staring blankly.

  Once they hit the floor, the gun sprang loose from Arthur’s hand and slid into the corner of the room. The impact brought him to his senses, and the two people I’d cared about most in the world grappled with each other on the floor of the dingy kitchen.

  “Mr. Windsor!” Gerald caught up. “You’ve been shot!”

  He bent over by my side and made to kneel, but I hit him on the knee and shook my head. The motion sent spears of pain through my shoulder.

  “No. Help Addison!”

  The driver jumped across my prone form and entered the fray. Arthur was in fine
shape for a man his age, but he couldn’t prevail against two opponents. With Gerald’s help, Addison had him on his face with his arms twisted behind his back.

  “I’ll restrain him,” Gerald said. “You check on Mr. Windsor.”

  “Let go of me, you pleb.” Arthur struggled as the driver took over, but he was overmatched.

  “Can you hold him?” Addison asked.

  “Yes, ma’am, I think so.”

  “What about an ambulance?”

  “I’ll take care of it. Make sure Liam is okay.”

  It was the first time I’d ever heard Gerald call me by my first name and I smiled through the pain for a moment, before the streaking incandescence in my shoulder became impossible to ignore.

  Addison sat beside me and leaned in to take a look at the damage.

  “We need to cover this and put pressure on it—it’s bleeding. A lot.”

  She tore a wide swath of her shirt away and folded it up.

  “This will probably hurt a lot.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Do it.”

  Grey intruded at the edges of my vision as she pressed the fabric into the wound.

  “Ahh, fuck!” I couldn’t stop the yell even if I wanted to. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  If the yelling didn’t decrease the pain, at least it made it easier to bear.

  “I’m so sorry, Liam,” Addison said. Her eyes were round and shiny, and tears gathered at the corners and trailed down her cheeks. “I have to stop the bleeding.”

  “I know.” I tried to put the hand of my good arm on her shoulder to comfort her, but couldn’t manage it.

  “Don’t move. I’ll take care of everything.” She kissed my forehead. “You took a bullet for me.”

  It was a common trope, but not something I ever thought I would do in my life.

  “I’d do it again,” I said. My head was light and airy, and the pain had spread even further. The white shirt that Addison used as a makeshift bandage had turned a deep red.

  “Is he okay?” Arthur’s voice was muffled.

  Addison turned her head and snarled. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you shot him, you selfish piece of shit.”

  “Addison, help me see him,” I said.

  The entire journey to the apartment, I hadn’t been able to reconcile the actions of the blackmailer with the man who’d mentored me for my entire life.

  Addison helped to shift me, easing me back so I could lean against the kitchen wall and stare at the man who’d changed everything.

  Gerald kept Arthur pressed firmly against the ground, his face resting on the kitchen floor as he looked at me. It was impossible to read his expression the way he was positioned.

  “I didn’t mean to shoot you, Liam,” Arthur said. “I’m sorry.”

  He looked the same as he always did, and that was the scary thing. All along, he’d been hiding the capacity to be this devious.

  “Why?”

  There was an entire rant in my head, accusations and questions and demands I’d spent the entire drive thinking of. It hurt too much to speak, so I packed it all into the single word.

  “I needed to succeed at something, Liam. My entire life has been one big string of failures. You’ve seen some of them, but there is a lot you’ll never know. I couldn’t just ask for your money. I had to take it—earn it—to be at peace with it.”

  “Is it true?” The pain prevented me from elaborating, but Arthur knew me well enough that I didn’t need to say more.

  “No. Your mother never had an affair.”

  Relief obviated some of the pain, the mental anguish carried since losing a piece of my identity earlier that day finally soothed.

  Tears welled in my own eyes—some for the pain, and some for the loss of a cherished relationship.

  “I would have helped you. Any way I could have.”

  He nodded from where Gerald pressed him into the floor. “I know. But I couldn’t accept it. I’m sick of this, Liam. Life is more of a pain than it’s worth, and it will only get worse from here.”

  With a gigantic heave, Arthur shrugged his whole body up in a powerful movement.

  Gerald toppled backward, caught by surprise. I couldn’t move, and Addison’s arm was caught around my back.

  Arthur dove for the gun that had slipped into the corner.

  “No!” The word echoed around the room, voiced from three throats simultaneously.

  “This is it, everyone,” Arthur said. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

  Like he was bringing a cup of tea to his mouth, Arthur raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

  I closed my eyes tight as the second loud gunshot of the day rang out. Each brought their own brand of punishment.

  A soft thump from the corner could only have been Arthur’s body slumping to the ground, but I refused to look.

  “Oh, my God,” Addison whispered, the words barely audible over the ringing in my ears.

  I opened my eyes, but looked nowhere except for the woman I loved.

  “You’re safe,” I said. “It’s over now.”

  She hugged me close and kissed me.

  “We need to get you proper care, Liam. The ambulance should be here soon. They’ll take care of you.”

  Her words sounded far away, like she spoke from the top of a deep well and I stood at the bottom watching the light grow dimmer.

  “Addison…” It was difficult to form the words. “If I don’t make it… you’ll be okay. I’ve put you in my will.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not worried about that, Liam. I just want you. I love you. Don’t leave me.”

  I smiled. The pain had faded away. “I love you.”

  Then the darkness took me.

  25

  ~ Addison ~

  I could deal with the light rain.

  It seemed fitting, in a way. Such a dark and dreary day for a somber occasion.

  Even the cameras everywhere, clicking away like this was a star-studded premiere and not a funeral, were easy to deal with.

  It was the looks. The fake-sad expressions and whispered condolences from people I’d never even met before. One more “sorry for your loss,” and I would lay someone out.

  “How are you dealing with it?” I asked.

  Liam leaned in. “I’m not. Not really.”

  I nodded.

  The service was long—far too long. Every moment spent here was excruciating, a harsh reminder of a life gone wrong and a man who needed help and refused to ask for it.

  Finally, it was time for the eulogy.

  “And now, Liam Windsor will say some words.”

  Murmurs filled the crowd. It would be Liam’s first public statements since Arthur’s death. His suicide was public knowledge, and Liam had been seen with his arm in a sling and coming out of the police station. Somehow, the link between the two events had been leaked, although the exact nature was a mystery.

  Rumors abounded, from the mundane to the patently ridiculous. Everything from Liam killing his relative and staging it as a suicide, to self-defense, to a surprisingly close to the mark failed murder-suicide.

  The only people who knew the truth were us, Gerald, and the two detectives leading the investigation for the Scotland Yard. They were sworn to discretion, working such a high-profile case involving the royals.

  Liam always looked amazing in a tuxedo, and today was no exception, sling included. A hush fell over the crowd as he took the podium.

  “Today we mourn a strong man. He was a friend to many, and one of my closest mentors. I would not be the man I am today if it were not for Arthur.”

  Liam paused and cleared his throat.

  “Arthur’s life was more challenging than he let on to most, but he sheltered those closest to him from his problems. We’ll never understand the way his life ended, but we will hold his memory in highest regard.”

  His voice grew hoarser as he went, the final words barely intelligible. He cleared his throat once more, letting the pause stretch
on.

  Finally, he spoke again. “To Arthur. May he find peace where he is now.”

  Liam walked back down the steps, taking his chair beside mine. Our hands found each other.

  The minister returned to say a final prayer.

  “Can we get out of here?” Liam asked.

  I wouldn’t hold us there. “Of course.”

  There was an entire afternoon of mourning planned—a reception, time for family, and a way for friends to let go of the man they’d known.

  The problem was that none of them knew the truth, and I could see how it tore Liam up inside.

  We were the subject of many looks and raised eyebrows as we walked down the long aisle and exited the church. People nudged their neighbors and whispered behind their hands at the sight of Liam Windsor abandoning his mentor’s funeral.

  “I couldn’t take it anymore,” Liam said when we finally found the sanctuary of the car. “I was up there, and all the things I would have said if Arthur passed a week ago… they drifted through my mind, but I just couldn’t say them. After what’s happened, my memories are tainted by the knowledge of who he really was.”

  I squeezed his hand. “That’s understandable, Liam. It’s not your fault. We’re the only ones who know the truth. It will get better with time as it slips further into the past and it’s not quite as sore.”

  He nodded. “I know. But for now… for now, it’s almost unbearable.”

  I rested my head on his good shoulder.

  “At least we can date openly again. And for real, this time.”

  “And I’m glad.” He kissed the top of my head.

  We hadn’t had a chance to truly enjoy it, dealing with the investigation and the funeral. But it had been a relief to move back into Liam’s apartment and spend the nights comforted by his warmth. With his shoulder injured the way it was, he needed help with certain things until it healed, so being able to be there for him was good. I would have fretted myself silly if I couldn’t take care of him.