A Corruption Dark & Deadly (A Dark & Deadly Series Book 3)

by Heather C. Myers

  “Well, we find ourselves in a conundrum, don’t we?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest in one fluid movement. His head was still tilted awkward but his eyes remained piercing, rooting her to her spot. “I suppose, legally, I could give you a thirty-day notice to get out.”

  “I’m not leaving my parents’ place,” she told him, her eyes burning. That was one thing she refused to do. It was all she had left of them. It was their legacy. She had always thought she would settle down and raise kids in the same neighborhood as them. Now, she wanted to settle down and raise kids in the house she grew up in. She refused to let someone like Jericho take that away from her.

  Instead of being angered by her outburst, Jericho gave her an amused grin, causing his eyes to sparkle. “No,” he agreed, his silky voice low but audible. “I didn’t think you would. Well, how do you suggest we resolve this?”

  “I think you should just give me my house back and my brother can pay you a monthly stipend of his check until you’re paid back completely,” Annie said.

  Jericho threw his head back and laughed. Annie wasn’t sure how a sound like laughter could be deemed as attractive. She didn’t know if it was the texture of the laugh, the silkiness of it, the fact that it was guttural and real, or the fact that it was contagious. A couple of his security guards in the back of the room began to smirk at one another, their arms still crossed over their chests.

  “You really mean that, don’t you?” he asked, once Jericho had calmed down.

  “Uh, yeah,” Annie said tentatively, nodding her head.

  “The problem is, Ms. Brennan, your brother didn’t want to pay me back with his check,” he said. “I suggested that, but he insisted he lived paycheck to paycheck and couldn’t afford to do that. He suggested the house instead and I agreed.”

  Annie cut a look at her brother. She had never hated anyone before, and she loved her brother with all of her heart, but in that moment, as she looked at him, she felt hatred burning through her blood stream.

  “He did not,” Jericho continued, “tell me that the house had a particular inhabitant in it.”

  “Oh, no?” Annie asked sarcastically, not thinking about what she was saying at the moment. Her anger had gotten the better of her and she couldn’t help but go off, even though it probably wasn’t the smartest thing for her to do. “I thought he told you all about me.”

  Jericho’s lips curled up into a small smile. “You’re feisty, aren’t you?” Clearly, his question was rhetorical so she didn’t bother to answer. He took a couple of step towards her until he was directly in front of her and he leaned towards her so their faces were merely inches apart. Her heart sped up in her chest. This was what it felt like to look death in the eye and still have the ability to breathe. “Bruce has talked about you a lot. You’re his favorite person on the planet. Did you know that?”

  “I’m the only family he has left,” Annie pointed out. Her voice wasn’t as strong as she wanted it to be but she prided herself on the fact that she was able to hold his gaze. Although, she didn’t think it was completely her doing. It was difficult for her to look away, like he had her under some kind of lock and key. She wondered if this was part of his power, this easy captivation of anyone he chose.

  “I heard about your parents’ untimely demise,” Jericho said slowly. “DUI, right? No one was caught, am I correct? Hit and run?” Annie clenched her jaw. She didn’t like talking about her parents’ death. It was still a raw feeling and her voice could not be controlled. Her eyes would fill up with water and her face would get splotchy. And there was no way she wanted to appear that way in front of Jericho. There was no way she wanted him to know that about her. “I could do some research and find out what happened to them. Find out who committed the travesty. Make them pay.” He pushed his brows up, letting the unspoken question linger between them.

  Annie’s throat went dry. He was asking if she wanted him to kill the person for her – or, at least, make them pay. She wasn’t going to lie. The thought had crossed her mind – how she would feel if she had ever met this mysterious person. Would they care that they killed a couple who had been married thirty years, with two grown children, and a house in the suburbs? Would they regret their actions or justify them? Would they turn everything around and make it about them – try and become the victim of the situation.

  But to kill? To make them pay?

  Annie wanted them to pay in court, to pay them back for the astronomic medical bill and the funeral expenses that Annie was still paying off, even a year later. Bruce couldn’t really afford it, considering he really did live paycheck to paycheck.

  "I would rather put my faith in the police and our criminal justice system," Annie said. "They'll get what's coming to them. Eventually."

  Jericho's pale green eyes seemed amused at her response. "Do you believe in some cosmic sense of justice through karma rather than taking fate into your own hands and extracting your own revenge yourself?" he asked. He wasn't critical of her belief, per se, but curious as to her logic.

  "I believe in the law and our judicial system," she said. "I believe in right and wrong and punishment fitting the crime and that everything will get their return. The person who killed my parents deserves to be in prison for the rest of their life."

  "Agreed," Jericho said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Except the problem with the law and our judicial system is that it’s corrupt. It always has been and it always will be. Certainly you understand that, don't you? How can you put your fate into something created by man?"

  "So you're saying humanity, by its very definition, is flawed and therefore not worthy of putting your faith in?" Annie asked, tilting her head to the side.

  "Absolutely not," Jericho said. "What I'm saying is you should have more faith in yourself than anything else. And if you put your mind to it, you could extract your revenge to whatever you deem as appropriate - not twelve strangers who don't know the whole story, who might be agreeing with whatever just to go home."

  Annie clenched her jaw but did not look away. "I'm not here to argue about the flaws in our judicial system," she told him.

  "Neither am I," he told her. "I'm just advising you to refrain from trusting a system that is inherently racist and unjust in order to attain the closure you desire." He raised a brow.

  "What are you?" she asked slowly. "Some kind of vigilante?"

  "I'm a man who knows what he wants and takes it," he explained. "I make my own fate. I don't require assistance from others."

  Without meaning to, Annie's eyes shifted to his bodyguards before sliding back over to him. Jericho laughed, a surprising sound that resembled bells. Music. Was this guy flawed in anyway?

  "I like you Annie Brennan," he said once his laughter stopped. "You're clever. I suppose you make a good point. I don't rely completely on myself to get things done. I hire people to do it for me."

  "That doesn't mean they're loyal," Annie pointed out.

  "You are correct," Jericho said with a nod, "but I don't expect their loyalty to be just given to me. Who am I to them except another rich white man making them promises I probably won't keep? See, the difference between me and them is that I pay for their loyalty. I offer them a competitive wage and an excellent benefits package so deciding they don't want to work for me would be illogical."

  "So you know they're working for you for practical reasons and that they aren't tied to you in any way," Annie said slowly, "and you're okay with that?"

  Jericho nodded once. "I prefer it that way," he said. "I have beautiful women throwing themselves at me every day. Do you think it's because they want to be with me or because they want to be with my money? At least with my employees, I'm paying them to do a job. I can expect them to do a job. It's business. There are no emotional ties complicating the situation." He tilted his head at an awkward angle as he continued to regard her. "I guess you could say I prefer to keep business and pleasure separate."

  She arched a brow at him, like she didn't
quite believe him.

  "You've never dated your employees?" Annie asked doubtfully. "And when I say date, I hope you know that word encompasses all sorts of raunchy activity like having sex or oral or, you know."

  "Annie!" Bruce exclaimed. Annie could tell her brother was embarrassed by her comments due to the way his entire face was turning red but, quite frankly, she didn't particularly care.

  "I don't know," Jericho said with a slow, easy smile. The kind that haunted your dreams at night. "Please. Elaborate."

  "That's my sister, dude," Bruce told Jericho. He cut his eyes over to Bruce and Bruce straightened but he didn't apologize. Annie felt herself relax next to him. It was nice to know that her brother had her back, even if Bruce had called Jericho dude.

  "Of course," Jericho said. "I apologize."

  "I don't care about how you run your business," Annie said, jumping in at the silence. "I don’t care about business and pleasure and your role in your employees' lives. I care about my house. I care about my parents' legacy. Bruce doesn't have the right to give up something that ours."

  "But the house isn't ours," Bruce said in a quiet, hesitant voice. "It's mine."

  Annie shot her gaze over to her brother's profile. His shoulders were slumped forward, his eyes cast down as though he was ashamed of this admittance. He should be; it was a lie.

  "What are you talking about?" Annie said, her voice dangerously low. She curled her fingers into tight fists, her fingernails making crescent moons in her skin.

  "The house wasn't ours, Annie," Bruce repeated. "The deed just lists me as owner, not you."

  "But the will-"

  "We read the will that way because we didn't want you to be upset," Bruce said. "It was my idea. I ordered Lisa to read it that way."

  "As an attorney, she's legally obligated to read it truthfully," Annie told him.

  "Annie, you received your own copy of the will," Bruce pointed out, his voice gentle. "You can go through it yourself and see. Mom and Dad put it under my name because they didn't want to burden you with the taxes. You had just graduated from college when they made the will and they had big expectations for me." He clenched his jaw. "It's mine, Annie. The house is mine to do what I want with it."

  Annie felt tears start to accumulate in her eyes and she bit the inside of her bottom lip to hold back from actually crying. She would not cry here, not in front of Jericho or these three nameless bodyguards in this strange place.

  Her parents hadn't put her name on the deed? They hadn't bestowed the house - at least half of it - to her? How could they trust Bruce with this? He hadn't even gone to college! He hadn't committed to sitting in front of a whiteboard in a classroom for four years to better his life. He couldn't be bothered to do anything, to be responsible for anything but himself. He didn't have a steady girlfriend, he still worked part-time. And yet because he was older than she was by a year, seven months and thirteen days, her parents decided to give the house to him? It made no sense.

  She blinked away her tears. Her heart pounded with disappointment in her parents. Why would they do this? Because of their death, they had taken on a holy reputation where they could do no wrong in her eyes. And now, this decision almost tainted their reputation. Which was blasphemous, even to think. But it still didn't make sense why they would allow Bruce to retain the house.

  "Are you saying that you currently occupy the house in question?" Jericho asked, pressing the back of his fingers against his lips, as though he were deep in thought about something important.

  "Yes," she told him, flashing a hazel glare at him. Her voice cracked and she hated herself for it. He already knew this. Why ask her again? "I live there."

  He turned his attention back to Bruce. "Why would you offer your sister's only place of residence as collateral?" he asked.

  "I thought she could stay with me," he said with a one-shoulder shrug. "We used to be super close when we lived with each other. Then I got a job with you in the city and I wanted to be closer to that. But then me and Annie lost touch and..." He let his voice trail off. "I was hoping that if she moved in with me, we could get close again."

  It was silent. Jericho was looking at Annie to see how she would respond. Annie was looking at Bruce, gap-mouthed.

  "Bullshit," she finally said.

  Even Bruce looked surprised by her swearing. "Excuse me?" he asked.

  "You heard me," Annie said. "That is such bullshit. Do you actually believe that? Do you actually believe your lies?"

  "Annie-"

  "If you really wanted to be around me like you say you do, you could have moved back home," she pointed out. "I work in the city, too. The thing is, you wanted your own space. You know how much I hate the city. There's no way in hell I would move to the city. And you know that. Stop pretending like you didn't know that."

  Jericho tilted his head to the side once again. "You don't like the city?" he asked, his curiosity clearly tainting his tone.

  Annie had almost forgotten he was there. He peered at her with those pale green eyes, piqued with interest in what she had to say. Annie felt herself shift uncomfortably underneath his penetrating gaze. It was as though he could see straight through her, see the blood coursing through her system, her heart skip out of time underneath the gaze, to the muscles and the guts and the organs. It was like he was looking for one of her weaknesses, and she was certain he would find something, considering she had plenty of those.

  At first, she didn't want to respond. She didn't want to talk to Jericho, let alone be here with him. There was something about the way he asked simple questions, something that made her suspicious there was something more than just a typical inquiry. He was cataloging responses, checking to see if her answer benefitted him in any way, and, if it did, how he could exploit it. Why did he want to know about her anyway? She meant nothing to him; she was a no one, just some accountant who happened to be related to someone who worked for him.

  However, Annie could tell from the way he was currently staring at her, she knew he would wait for however long it took to get that answer out of her. And right now, all she wanted was to go home and pretend this never happened, that Bruce didn't owe Jericho a shit ton of money and that it didn't affect her one way or the other.

  "No," she finally responded. "I don't like the city."

  "She doesn't like it when there are too many people," Bruce put in, deciding that Annie's answer was insufficient for Jericho and he needed to add to it. Annie shot her brother a look, which he pointedly ignored. "Prefers the solitude. The quiet. I have no idea how she does it. We have a house on the edge of the woods, and it used to creep me the fuck out that if something happened to me and I screamed, nobody would hear."

  Jericho gently pressed his brows together, hearing Bruce's response but the look on his face indicated he didn't particularly care. He turned his attention back to Annie.

  "I don't like people much, either," he told her. "Sometimes, they talk so much, it feels like they're looking for any kind of excuse to hear themselves speak."

  Annie shot Bruce a look as if to say He’s talking about you. She didn't respond to Jericho's attempt at conversation, however. She wasn't sure why she needed to talk to him in the first place.

  "I have a house in the woods as well," Jericho kept going.

  Annie rolled her eyes and snorted.

  "Jesus, Annie," Bruce said from the corner of his mouth.

  "What do you want from me, Bruce?" she asked. "Honestly. What am I even doing here? Why does this involve me? And Jericho is talking about his mansion in the woods like the Seattle Times doesn't write about it once a week." She threw Jericho a snotty glance. "We get it. You're rich. Congratulations. For someone who doesn't like the city, don't you have a penthouse in one of the wealthiest buildings in Seattle?"

  "For business," he said. His eyes sparkled with amusement at her outburst.

  "For business?" Annie asked doubtfully. "Really? So you only stay in that penthouse because you have business dealings
? Come on. You're all about honesty, right? Then be honest. You like having a ritzy place in Seattle you can just retire to, bring your dates to. You live alone. You don't have a family. Why do you need a penthouse? It's because you like the status that comes with owning a penthouse."

  Instead of being angry or upset with Annie's outburst, Jericho continued to look amused. It was as though she was some kind of sassy sprite, not quite real, eye-catching and mystical. She had no idea why he wasn't upset. It almost scared her more than seeing him offended by what she said. Why did he look at her that way? Why wasn't he upset? Was he crazy? Or did he have an infinite amount of patience?

  "Perhaps," he said. "But let's switch positions for a second, if we may." He shifted in his seat, straightening his spine. "You are me. A successful businessman who prefers the solitude but who has obligations in the city, more professional than personal. You have lots of money. Would you purchase a twelve-month lease at a cost-effective apartment complex where people will know where you live, security isn't as great, and the chance of someone selling you out is greater than anything? Would you live somewhere where someone could walk through your home without a reason as long as they post a notice? Would you live somewhere where they could kick you out at any given moment, where the paparazzi had better access to you, where your neighbors would probably hate you because there's no way those same paparazzi could be regulated at all?" He perked his brow.

  "Why live in the city at all?" Annie pointed out. "You have a mansion in the woods? Why not live there?"

  "It's big and lonely," Jericho said.

  "Like your penthouse?" Annie said.

  Jericho's mouth quirked up. "Touché, Ms. Brennan," he said.

  "So it sounds like to me, if you want to be happy, just sell your big, lonely houses and buy your own house in the woods that's smaller and not as big or as lonely," Annie said, leaning back in her chair.