“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks in a low tone.
“Sure. Thank you.”
I watch him intently as he grabs a bottle of water from his fridge and hands it to me.
He leans against the counter across from me, crossing his arms once again. He’s looking at me with no emotion as he waits for me to talk.
I take a sip of my water and clear my throat nervously. “Well, you know that my real name is Cecilia West and that my father, Brock West was murdered seven years ago.” It hurts to say it aloud, but good in a relieved kind of way. Like saying it to someone else will make the pain real. “I witnessed it and since then have been trying to figure out the events that took place and who killed him. I’ve been searching for anything that links anyone to him. Things I wouldn’t have known at that age.
“I have limited information and even worse memory of that day. A bullet nicked me and left a scar on my shoulder.” I caress it lightly out of habit, remembering how he used to kiss it so tenderly. “I used Leighton Enterprises as my chance to dig into his files, or any files that would give me information.” I tightly close my eyes and exhale slowly. “I selfishly used you to get inside for my own personal gain. I needed closure…and at the time, I was willing to do anything to get it.”
I pour my heart out to Bentley. I can only hope he’ll sympathize with me enough to not take legal action. However, I assume he would’ve already if he planned to. But I have no idea where his head is at right now.
He shakes his head in disbelief, or shock. Either way, I see his body tense at my confession.
“There’s nothing I can say to tell you how truly sorry I am, Bentley. It was all suppose to be a simple get-in, get-out type of job. Learn my way around, dig into files, and find what my mother won’t tell me.”
“Simple?” he half-laughs in amusement. “Nothing about that is simple. Do you have any idea what you were doing? The risk you were taking?”
“Yes…yeah. I thought I did.”
He shakes his head disapprovingly again.
“You were never part of the lies, Bentley. Everything I felt for you—”
“It doesn’t matter!” He cuts me off. “It was based on lies. It’s no different. You could’ve cost me my job. My reputation.”
“I know,” I say quickly. I exhale slowly, needing to get my emotions back in check. “I know…it was a selfish move. One hundred percent selfish,” I admit. “I’ve never felt more regret than I did these past few weeks, replaying every decision in my head over and over.”
We both stay silent, neither of us knowing what to say. The electricity between us is palpable—the tension evident in every silent breath not spoken.
I stand up from the stool and brush both hands on my jeans. I hesitate before finally breaking the silence.
“Nothing I can say will change what already happened, and I know that, but just know that I really am sorry. Even if it’s too late to apologize, I am.” I smile weakly at him before turning toward the door. I grab my sweater off the coat rack and attempt to pull it on when I’m hit with Bentley’s scent.
He’s behind me, just barely touching my back. I can feel his hot breath on my neck, instantly sending goose bumps down both arms. It’s evident the power he still has over my body, entirely consuming and intoxicating.
He grabs my sweater, signaling to let it go. He slowly and torturously pulls it on me and secures it tightly across my chest zipping it up slowly. My back is still facing him, but my body is fully aware of how close he is now.
“Thank you,” I whisper softly.
Both hands are gripping my upper arms, securing me in place. I’m not sure if I should move, or if I even can move. I’ll do anything for him to let me stay, but I know I’m completely undeserving of it.
He brings his mouth to my ear, my eyes closing on contact as he whispers, “Let me help you. I can help find whatever you’re looking for.”
My heart races at his words, my chest rising. “Why would you do that?” I ask quietly.
He lets out a deep groan as he presses our bodies together. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Ceci. Everything in me screams to hate you, push you away, and not give a shit about you—but I can’t. As much as I try to convince myself it was only sex, I can’t.”
My breathing quickens at his confession. My body aches for his touch, to feel his tongue against mine again, to be held in his arms—anything. I’m begging for all of it.
I squeeze my eyes tighter, holding in the tears that are threatening to escape. Hearing his pained voice tells me just how much I’ve hurt him, how much I’ve betrayed his trust.
“Bentley,” I whimper, relaxing into his hold. I’ll give anything to feel his naked body against mine again.
“Unfortunately, the damage is beyond repairable,” he growls in my ear, making me almost breathless. His words speak one thing, but the way his breath hitches tells me another. It’s painful for him to even say those words.
“I understand. Thank you for allowing me to explain it to you, at least.” I bow my head, enjoying his touch.
He pulls me in closer to his chest. I anticipated his touch, the feel of his lips—anything to signal that he isn’t letting me go.
I feel his nose in my hair, inhaling the scent of my shampoo. My eyes close on contact, taking him all in. His arms wrap around my chest, closing me in.
Reality sets in, and I quickly open my eyes. “Bentley, please.” I sound weak, pathetic. “Please let me go.”
“I don’t want to. As much as I should, I can’t.”
“You have to…” I don’t need to further explain myself because I know he knows. The damage is done—I’ve hurt him and there’s nothing I can do to change that. I’ll only hurt him again.
I feel his body go limp against mine, but I don’t turn around to face him. I can’t bare it. Finally, he reluctantly lets me go.
“Good night, Bentley.”
I open the door and walk out.
Chapter Five
Bentley
God dammit, why did I still want her? After everything she has put me through, I know I should stay the fuck away.
But I can’t. Instead, I text her and tell her to tell me everything she knows about her dad’s death. I had planned to dig into his case anyway, but perhaps the information she has can help me out.
Cecilia: I know there were issues with money. My sister remembers hearing them fight about it. According to their finances, their monthly income was not stable and was inconsistent. Do you think that could be the reason someone wanted him dead?
Me: It’s a possibility. Just let me figure that out, Ceci. Just tell me anything you remember or any dreams you’ve had. Have you had any dreams?
Cecilia: Well, most recently I had one that was like a flashback. I was sleeping when I heard them arguing in the kitchen about how my dad had spent all this money they didn’t have. My mom was worried about having to sell the house. My dad told her he’d find a way to get a Ramiro to give him more time. I also found a note with the name Samuel Anderson on it with a lock box code. When I told my mother about it, she freaked out and said I was going to get us killed trying to figure it out. I know she knows something…or at least has suspicions.
Bentley: Okay, thanks. That’s all really good to know. I’ll let you know when I find more information out. It might take a few weeks.
Cecilia: All right.
Cecilia: Thank you, Bentley. You don’t know what this means to me.
I swallow hard as I read her last text. I never expected to be getting information from the victim’s child years later about a case. It’s almost unheard of but at this point…what did I have to lose? Ceci wanted answers and finding out any kind of truth would make Leighton Enterprises look good. I just hope my father feels the same way after everything.
I don’t text her back because I don’t want her thinking we’re now coordinating on this together. This is strictly a business relationship. Nothing more. It can’t
turn into anything anymore…
I focus all my attention on everything Ceci told me. I read over the file, looking into his finances. They are definitely inconsistent for at least two years, which is ironic for someone who worked a salary day job. Something definitely looked suspicious.
I follow the bank that he and his wife shared. Turns out he had several accounts in his name without his wife’s name. Definitely suspicious.
There isn’t a whole lot to go off the name Ramiro without a last name. I look into our database anyway, perhaps a drug lord or dealer that’s been mentioned previously, but I find nothing.
For the next two weeks, I engross myself into Mr. West’s file. I go to my kickboxing classes twice a week and do more research. After awhile, I’m no longer doing this just for the sake of the company. I want Ceci to have closure as well.
* * *
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts, and I tell whomever it is to enter. My head lifts up as I watch Ceci walk in. She flashes a small smile as she walks over to my desk, taking the chair in front of me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” I smile back.
“Thanks for…um…helping me. Letting me come here.” Her voice cracks and I can tell how nervous she is. It’s been a month since we’ve last seen each other.
“You’re welcome. I’ve been doing some digging based on what you’ve told me, and I might have a few answers for you.”
Her body stiffens and I know this is something she’s been waiting to hear for a long time.
“I did an extensive search for Samuel Anderson, nothing linked back that was tied to your father.”
Her shoulders slump as she lets out a disappointing breath.
“However, I investigated the lock box number and code and was able to trace it back to a bank in Iowa. It’s registered under your dad’s name.” She wrinkles her nose as her eyes narrow, confused. “He used a pseudo name for the lock box, actually.”
She adjusts her hair and sits taller. “Wait…he’s Samuel Anderson?”
“Yes. He has a bank account set up through them that pays the monthly cost directly. When I spoke with the manager, he told me it was set up before he died. He has just enough money in that account to pay for it for ten years.”
She gasps. “Ten years?”
“No one’s allowed to open it until then.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug. “Those were the orders.”
She leans back in the chair, defeated. “That makes no sense.”
I clear my throat to grab her attention. “I also checked into his financials again, getting the history on all his accounts. He had a joint account with your mom as well as his individual accounts.”
“Okay?”
“They were all unstable. One month they’d be broke, the next he deposited thousands. A few months later, the same thing. It went on like that for a couple of years.”
“But I thought we already knew that?” she questions.
“Well, yes. But he was taking out large chunks at once. As if he had been paying something off. One month there would be a lot, and the next completely broke.”
I watch as she chews her lip and shifts her eyes from me to the floor several times before she speaks again. “I don’t understand.”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, not wanting to tell her the bad news. “It’s speculated, Ceci, that he was into gambling.” I watch her breath hitch. “He was an addict,” I clarify.
“No…that can’t be right.” She shakes her head. “We live in one of the nicest neighborhoods. My mom was a stay-at-home mom.”
“The deposits were thousands of dollars, suggesting that he borrowed the cash to feed his addiction. He probably felt he could win it back and pay his debt. When addicts lose, they don’t stop at anything. They will borrow as much money as they can to keep gambling. So he’d win a large amount and then gamble it all away. That was why the deposits were always inconsistent.”
She continues shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes glazing over.
“I had a hunch, Ceci, and I ran with it. I contacted the nearest Casino and was able to confirm old records of his winnings. I know it’s not what you want to hear—”
I stop when I see tears falling down her cheeks. Her head is lowered to her chest, but I can see her eyes tightly sealed.
I round my desk and kneel down in front of her. “Ceci…I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was deliver bad news about your dad. I swear. I’m extremely thorough. I wouldn’t pass on information I wasn’t absolutely certain of.”
Her body begins trembling as she tries to conceal the cries that are escaping. I rub both thumbs under her eyes and wipe away her tears.
Her head falls deeper into her lap. Her hands catch her face as she sobs heavily. Her body shakes as she finally releases the horror that she’s been living all these years.
I dig my face into her hair, trying to comfort her. I rub my hands up and down her legs in a consoling gesture, trying to get her to stop shaking.
“Shh…I’m here, Ceci.”
She lifts her head up just enough to grab my shirt and dig her face into my chest. She sobs uncontrollably, not concealing her emotions any longer. My heart sinks at how badly she’s hurting—reliving the event and the years she’s had to live without him.
Being able to touch and comfort her when she needs it most sends a chill down my spine. As much as she hurt me, it can’t be in any comparison as to how she’s feeling finding the truth out about her dad—her hero.
While texting back and forth about her dad, it was easy to see how important he was to her, which makes it that much harder having to tell her this.
“Sweetheart, please don’t cry.” It’s breaking everything inside me to see her like this. Knowing the strong, confident Ceci and watching her break down like this was breaking me down. I cup her face and force her to look up at me. Her eyes close on contact as I wipe her tears again with the pads of my thumbs.
I’ll do anything to take this pain away from her. I’m desperate to hold her and kiss her—anything to console her, but I restrict myself, not wanting to take advantage of her situation.
Her tears finally start to fade away, and she sits back up, wiping her cheeks. She chokes out a laugh as she takes in my shirt. “I’m sorry. I ruined your shirt.”
I cock my head and laugh with her. “You really think I care about my fucking shirt?”
She sniffs and composes herself before replying, “I can’t believe I cried that hard. I haven’t done that in years.”
“Well, then maybe it’s a good thing. Something needed to trigger those emotions to come out finally.”
She nods in agreement. “I guess so.” She swallows back the tears. “I was such a naïve kid. I thought we were the perfect family—apparently we weren’t.”
I lean in slowly and cup her face with one hand. “We’re all naïve as children. You were supposed to think everything was perfect. That was their jobs as parents to protect you. And it sounds like they did a good job.” I smile weakly, hoping to give her some clarity.
I look into her sad eyes and hesitate at first, but finally close the gap and softly kiss her lips. She matches my rhythm, soft and slow. My body is pressed in between her legs, making our faces align just perfectly. I feel her body heat up as I intensify the kiss, but realize I need to slow down.
I break the tender kiss, leaning my forehead against hers not ready to let go of her just yet.
I hear her swallow deeply, almost moaning from the sudden loss. I know I can’t lead her on to think anymore can happen, or perhaps it’s so I don’t think this can go any further.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for everything. I still have a lot of questions, but at least I have some answers. It’s better than being completely left in the dark…”
I rock back on my feet and kiss her forehead before standing up. I grab her hands and pull her up with me so we are standing chest to chest. Her eyes are still red and blo
tchy from sobbing, but I can tell she’s feeling better since letting it all out.
“You’re welcome, Cecilia.”
She looks up at me with pain in her eyes. It’s the first time I’ve called her by her real name since I kicked her out of my office, but I need to set boundaries. The truth remains—she lied to me.
“I know I don’t deserve any of your kindness or your help, but I hope someday you can forgive me.” She looks down before stepping around the chair and walking toward the door.
I’m living in a constant battle between wanting her and hating her. No…I could never hate her, but I was shattered when the truth came out. That much I know is true. However, it doesn’t make my feelings for her any less real.
“Cecilia,” I call out. She quickly turns around, her eyes pleading for me to not let her go. “Glad to help. I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”
She nods appreciatively and grabs the door handle. She stops just before stepping out and turns toward me. “Goodbye, Bentley.”
Part Two
Chapter Six
Cecilia
There’s a reason your past is supposed to stay in the past. There’s a reason you want to forget. There’s a reason the past hurts.
Isn’t time supposed to heal all wounds?
Well…twelve months hasn’t done shit.
Forgetting about Bentley Leighton is next to impossible. No matter what I did to distract myself, no matter who I befriended, or how many ‘dates’ I went out on—it’s his face I see every day.
No, literally.
Six months after leaving his office for the last time, his perfect square-jaw, and his intense eyes surrounded by his golden, messy locks were plastered everywhere. Billboards, magazine ads, E! News, T.V. Commercials.
Every-fucking-where.
Back to his roots, America’s sexy-as-sin bad boy was back in full force—the press’s words, not mine—doing international shoots, exclusive interviews, and promoting all the newest and high-end products such as underwear, expensive clothing, men’s hair products, and even foreign cars. If it cost more than my tuition, he’s promoting it.
The Intern: Vol. 3 Page 3