The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1)

by Ashton, Chloe D.

  “There’ll be time for that later. Right now, you need to preserve your strength, and the only way that your condition will improve is if you eat. Besides, you don’t want to disappoint Meghan, do you?”

  “Of course not,” she murmured, flushing red. “But, I have questions. There are more things that I need to know---”

  “All the more reason for you to take a much needed break,” he said, cutting her off. After giving Meghan a quick peck on the cheek, he placed her wiggling form on the floor. “By regaining your strength, you’ll be able to handle things much easier, don’t you think?”

  Blinking fast, she nodded. “O-of course.”

  Meghan tugged on her hand impatiently. “Come on, Livvy. Let’s go.”

  “Alright, lead the way,” she murmured, forcing a smile, and without a further word, they left the study.

  Chapter 4

  “Julie, I need you to fax over the Windsor ledger and contact John Windsor immediately,” Jarrod said, a half hour later, cuffing the cell phone in his large hand, still working in the study. “Contact Marc, and tell him that we need to get on this quick. We need this shipment out before the end of the week.” He leaned back in the chair. “If anything pertinent comes up, I want you to contact me immediately. Thanks.”

  After ending the call with his receptionist, he tossed the phone on the desktop. Releasing a pent-up breath, he rubbed a hand along his cheek thoughtfully. That took care of business matters, but what about the more personal ones, Jarrod thought, staring at the closed study door.

  Like the identity of the church bomber…

  Even now, that fact remained a secret.

  But, after years of dealing with Addison’s treachery, being the victim of having false documents drawn up that made him look guilty when he was innocent, and reeling from false accusations of sordid crimes that he wasn’t responsible for, those were reasons why it was pertinent to find out the culprit.

  A repeat of the nightmare that’d claimed his life for the past years definitely didn’t need repeating.

  The chair creaked as he leaned forward.

  And the kind of information that he needed, he thought, punching the number into the cell phone. It’d have to come straight from the streets.

  On the third ring, the other party answered. “Yeah?”

  “Frank T., it’s Sabatino,” he muttered, rearing back in the seat. “I got a job for you.”

  “Sabatino! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” the forty-two year old, bald, husky African-American male said with a deep chuckle on the other end. “If you’re fronting me for information, I know it has to be big. What’s up, player?”

  “Did you hear about the explosion about a couple of months back?” he asked, gripping the phone hard. “On the south side of Charleston?”

  “How could I not? It was all over the news for weeks. Holland Grove Sanctuary, right? Whoever did that, that’s one messed up SOB,” Frank T muttered on the other end. “Anybody that’ll a blow up a church of all things, that’s not saying much about his character. Know what I mean? That shit ain’t good.” He gave a knowing laugh. “And that’s what you want me to snoop around and find out, right? The leg man and the initiator, is that the 411 that you need?”

  “Yes,” he quipped tightly. “Not only will I offer you round-the-clock protection, but I’ll compensate you well.”

  “That’ll work for me, player. I’m still balling because of the last job that I did for you,” Frank T laughed. “Keep passing jobs like this my way, and I’ll be a billionaire like you in no time.”

  “Is that so?” he said, giving a real laugh, and then, he turned serious again. “Frank, be careful with this. These guys aren’t playing around, obviously.”

  “Obviously not,” Frank T agreed. “Tell you what? I’ll jump on this ASAP. Not going to waste any time on this.”

  “Call me. I’m not in the States right now. But, when the need calls for it, I’ll come in, and we’ll meet.”

  “I hear ya. Hate to break away from the call, Sabatino, but I gotta bounce. You know how it is, right?”

  “I understand. Later.”

  The phone went dead.

  As the study door opened, he strove for normalcy.

  “Daddy, Daddy, guess what, guess what?” Meghan said, racing across the room, leaving an apprehensive Olivia standing at the door. After a brief hesitation, she ventured further into the room. But, as she settled on the sofa, he easily noticed her tension.

  Standing, he moved from behind the desk again, and just as he did, a gleeful Meghan collided into him. “Hey, slow down,” Jarrod chuckled, kneeling down. “What are you trying to do, run me over?”

  “You’re the best Daddy in the whole wide world!” Meghan said, jumping around his neck. “I love you!”

  The hard knot in his chest tightened.

  Wasn’t Meghan the only good part of him that he had left? There was no way that he was going to lose her, too. “And I love you,” he added quietly.

  Staring across the room, he met Olivia’s gaze.

  The bright tears swam in her light brown eyes, and once more, he had to marvel at her simple beauty. Long raven black tresses, flawless creamy skin, light brown eyes that were the color of warm whiskey, Jarrod mulled distractedly, taking in the floral dress that covered her curvaceous figure. They all made for a perfect package…

  She is the pawn, he reminded himself, breaking his gaze away.

  He was the master player.

  And weren’t there always casualties in the game of war?

  ***

  “Meghan’s asleep,” Olivia murmured, a few hours later, standing at the study’s threshold. After dinner, they’d separated with her carrying a sleepy Meghan to her bedroom and him retiring to the study. And now, the inevitable couldn’t be prolonged further. She took an unsteady breath. “We need to talk. Don’t you think that we’ve danced around the truth long enough?”

  Again, his green gaze was intense as he studied her from across the room. Sighing heavily, he rose from behind the desk. “Can’t it wait until morning? We’ve both had a tiring day.”

  With a firm hand, she closed the door.

  “No, it can’t wait. I won’t wait,” she said firmly, pursing her lips. “I need answers.”

  “You’re my fiancée. Isn’t that enough information for now?” Jarrod asked, crossing to the wet bar. As he poured the brandy into the glass, it made a trickling sound. Then, tilting the glass back, he downed the alcohol before slapping the glass back onto the counter top. “Like I said, we’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Why are you being deliberately cruel?” she whispered accusingly. “It’s like you’re going out of your way to make me feel unwanted. A loveless relationship…while I don’t know fully remember anything, I can’t see myself being okay with that. Again, I can’t help but wonder if this relationship is based on hate instead of---”

  “There you go with that word again,” he quipped tightly, facing her. “Don’t ever use it around me again.”

  “Or you’ll do what?” she asked breathlessly, taking in his pure sexiness. “You can’t bully me and stop me from learning the truth.”

  “Bully? Trust me, I’ve been called worse,” he winked, and a devilish glint played in his eyes.

  She inhaled sharply.

  The man was a package of sin!

  While she was mindless, she wasn’t immune to that simple fact.

  “I don’t doubt that either,” Olivia said, stiffening. “But, I deserve the truth, and it’s the only thing that is going to serve the both of us. And you will not keep it from me.” Suddenly, she was chilled, but not from the cold. Rather, it was the insensitiveness that he was forcing upon her. She sank down onto the sofa. “Tell me everything. Where I’m from, how we met---”

  A dangerous gleam shone in his eyes. “Olivia Lange, struggling artist in Charleston, struggling to make ends meet---is that good enough?” Jarrod asked, raising a brow.

  “No, it’s not,”
she snapped, firing an angry glare. “And it’s certainly obvious why we’re estranged and having problems.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “Why is that?”

  She lifted her chin proudly. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting anyone more despicable or hateful than you.”

  Shrugging, he gave an abrupt laugh. “Ouch. Thanks for the compliment.”

  “Trust me, it wasn’t one. Why do you want me here?” Olivia asked, standing, and then ambled towards him. “I can’t help but think that there’s more to our situation. And if things are bad between us like you’ve said, maybe it is best that you just let me go.”

  A strange look crossed his face. “I can’t do that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” she demanded, stopping before him. “I ask for simple answers, but you won’t give them. Why is that? What kind of secrets are you hiding? How do I even know that you’re my fiancé? For all I know, you could be lying.”

  “Forgive me,” Jarrod said, his face tightening in a carefully controlled mask. “My reaction is purely based on the issues that we were having before your accident. And I’m abhorred by my own behavior, my love. Can you forgive my transgression? Please tell me that you will.” Reaching out, he grabbed her hand, and before she could pull back, he raised her hand to his lips. “I swore that I’d be a better man if you came back to me, and it’s time that I live up to my claim.”

  As his warm lips pressed against her skin, she shivered, and there were no words to describe the sensations that were firing through her. In the soft kiss, she sensed danger, not of the violent sort, but a sensual one.

  One that’d be too easy for her to succumb to, she mulled, mesmerized by the gold flints in his green eyes….And it was one that she sensed that she already knew, for already, the familiar feelings were swirling within her.

  She snatched her hand back. “Proof---the proof that we’re engaged, where is it?”

  Jarrod arched a high brow. “I take it that you don’t trust me?”

  As she watched him, he hesitated briefly, and again, she was reminded of what a deep mystery he exuded. Cool, collected, a dangerous charm….But, underneath the exterior, a volatile storm raged within him, and in brief moments, she caught a flicker of it in the green eyes that studied her so intently.

  An enigma, he definitely was.

  Flushing, she realized that she’d been staring again.

  “Surely, you don’t expect me to just take your word for everything,” she gulped, clasping her shaky hands together. “For all I know, you could be lying to me.”

  Jarrod gave a short laugh. “Being quite melodramatic, aren’t you? As a matter of fact, I think it’s possible that you’ve had your head buried in too many of those soap operas and late night cop dramas.” His green eyes flickered over her. “Humor me, for a moment, will you? Let’s suppose that your claims are true. Exactly, what would I be getting out of the situation? What benefits lie in me lying to you?”

  She blushed. “I-I don’t know. It just seems that---”

  “You want facts?” he asked, turning away from her. “I’ll give you facts.”

  Once again, she sat down.

  In a few long strides, he crossed the room, but didn’t stop at the desk this time. Walking to the huge picture mounted on the wall, he stopped, and to her amazement, it hid a secret storage port, she realized as he pulled it away from the wall. Quickly keying in the combination, he opened the safe before retrieving the large manila envelope.

  After he crossed the room again, he dropped the envelope onto the table.

  “Read it,” Jarrod ordered quietly. “Everything that you want to know is right there. And since we’re abroad here at our vacationing home, that’s all that we keep of our personal information along with our passports.”

  Tearing up, she eyed the envelope on the table, and then with an unsteady hand, she picked it up before releasing the clasp. As she dumped some of the contents out the envelope, they scattered across the table.

  Passports…

  Birth certificates…

  Driver’s licenses…

  Photos of a younger her…

  Graduation pictures…

  Intimate photos of her daily life…

  Then, she lifted the wedding invitation from the smooth glass top.

  Olivia Lange and Jarrod Sabatino, it read.

  You are cordially invited to the upcoming nuptials…

  “Our wedding, it’s a year from now. But, why aren’t there any photos of us together?” she demanded, meeting his eyes. “If we’re so much in love, why aren’t there any?”

  He lifted a brow. “Well, if you’d take everything out of the envelope, you’d find a few.”

  With a shaky hand, she lifted the envelope again, and as he proposed, more photos scattered across the table. She chose the top photo with a shaky hand and stared at it closely. Together, they sat at the bistro table, facing one another in broad daylight. Across the table top, they held hands, and it seemed that they were engrossed in deep conversation. As she stared at herself on the photo, she’d never seen anyone look more enamored than she did. And as he was doing now, he took her breath away. On the glossy image, the sunlight danced across his face, and he seemed just as taken with her.

  “A close friend of ours took that photo on August 17th, six months ago. After a gala presentation, we dined there, and as you can see, we are definitely attuned to each other,” Jarrod suggested, staring down at her. “While we’re having issues, Livvy, it doesn’t change the fact that we are meant to be together.” He paused briefly. “Whether you believe that or not, we do belong together.”

  And she could certainly believe that, she mulled, feeling like she was drowning in a deep sea of green as she stared back at him. There was a dangerous appeal about him, one that was wild and unattainable. The exact things that drew a woman to the forbidden, she thought, looking away uncomfortably. And in the short time that they’d been together, it’d been difficult for her to dismiss her immediate attraction to him. It was so obvious that the sexual attraction was there.

  “What about now?” she demanded softly. “What’s changed? Separate beds…separate lives. Isn’t that the life that we’re living now? At least, that’s what you’re telling me.”

  Turning away from her, he crossed the room, and when he reached the window, he stopped. As he pulled the curtains back, the moonlight streamed in. “Olivia, sometimes, the world just gets in the way, and it upsets a perfect balance. That’s what it’s done to us. In a sense, we’ve betrayed one another, and now, we’re fighting to get past that.”

  Reddening, she stiffened. “Betrayal? What happened between us?” she asked, studying him, and again, he was difficult to read.

  “You’re not ready for the truth,” Jarrod muttered, standing from the chair, and his eyes seemed to glow like burning green embers. “It’s best that you don’t press it.”

  “But, I need to know---have to know,” she whispered, coming up. “Do you know how lost and afraid I feel right now---to have no bearings of who or what I am. My life, it’s like a blank slate and all the while, it’s so dark and muddled that I can’t make sense of anything.” Tearing up, she met his eyes again. “You’re my life line---my only hope. I need you to help me.”

  A flicker of emotion flashed in his eyes.

  For a brief second, she caught a rare glimpse at the real man, and his voice was unsteady as he spoke again. “Come here.”

  “W-what?” she asked, gulping hard.

  His words held a sensual softness. “I said, come here,” Jarrod said huskily, extending his hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The silence in the room seemed to hum as she made each step. Once again, she fought the emotions storming within her, the forbidden feelings that her intriguing lover evoked.

  When she was within reach, he grasped her hand.

  His six feet frame towered over her, and she barely reached his chin.

  “W-what are you doing?” she s
tammered, staring into the wall of his chest. “I don’t understand---”

  “Look at me.”

  Holding her breath, she raised her eyes to his.

  Again, she was taken aback by their attraction.

  Within his green depths, his own awareness swam, and she saw her own mirrored within them.

  “I’m afraid,” she whispered.

  “Of what?” he rasped. “Me?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “But, not for the reasons that you think.”

  “What reasons would that be?”

  “I know that you’d never hurt me. Don’t ask me why, but, I can easily sense that,” she admitted, staring at his chest. “And while we are engaged---right now, you’re a stranger to me. I don’t want to rush things.”

  His voice was husky. “We won’t rush things. However many steps you want to take, we’ll take them,” he muttered, grasping her chin, and directed her troubled gaze to his. “I won’t push you into anything that you don’t want. I want you to be the one to decide how things proceed between us. No pressure, ok?”

  Smiling shyly, she nodded, “Ok.”

  As he stepped back, the empty air brushed against her, and she fought to hide her disappointment.

  “Why don’t you go in for the night?” he suggested, giving her a fast smile, sliding behind the desk. “I’m sure that you’re exhausted.”

  “You’re right,” she sighed, though she didn’t make any move to leave. “I am.”

  “Well, I don’t want you to think that you have to stand around and entertain me,” he muttered, raising a brow. Folding his arms behind his head, he leaned back in the chair. “Besides, I’m going to be up for quite awhile.”

  She stared at him. “It seems that you’re a very busy man.”

  “Very busy, indeed,” Jarrod muttered, now leafing through the papers on the desk. “And these ledgers can’t wait any longer than they have.”

  “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time,” she said, blushing. “It’s just that---”

  “Olivia, you’re not taking up my time. As a matter of fact, I enjoyed your company.”