by Nana Malone
I blinked at him. "I mean, unless it's a planned Evans PR event, I really wouldn't, Ryder. I'm just really not into the scene, you know?" I checked my watch again. We really should be going.
"Yeah, but you're black, aren't you? I feel like that's inherently cool."
Say what now? I ground my teeth. "Yeah, I see how maybe you would think that, but melanin does not mean that I immediately know where the great clubs are. It's not a thing."
Across the table, Roone narrowed his gaze at him. What the hell was his problem anyway? He should be thrilled that Ryder was throwing me off my game. But honestly, he looked like he wanted to grab Ryder’s too long hair and slam his face into the polished oak table.
"Oh, it's not just the clubbing, love. You know what I mean. I'm sure you've got contacts. You know, for all the drugs, party drugs. My mate at Eton, Tyson, was a Jamaican bloke. He always had the best supply.”
Roone lifted a brow. "Do you hear yourself when you talk?"
Ryder slanted him a glance. "When I'm chattin' to you, you'll know."
Roone just chuckled. "Ryder, you're talking to a lady. Someone who's making your boss and her boss very happy. So maybe you shut your mouth and stop saying things that you don't know anything about."
Shit titties. What the hell was happening here? "Okay, everyone take a step back. Ryder, I can assure you that I do not know where the best parties are or where to get the best drugs."
I forced the words through my teeth. "What I do know are the best venues and how to make this event as spectacular as possible for London Lords. How to blend all of this together seamlessly between all of the parties involved. I know how to do that. That's my job. That's what Roone and I are here for. For your party drug situation, you better call Tyson. I can't help you. Do you understand?"
Roone hid his snicker with a cough. Ryder glared at me. "Fuck, what good are you? If you can't get drugs, are you at least a good lay? Is that whole thing true? Once you go black you never go..."
Roone had had enough. "Oi, kid, you had better not finish that sentence. If we file harassment charges against you, I guarantee your boss will sack you when I tell her. Do I make myself clear?"
Everything about Roone, from his tight shoulders to the muscles ticking in his jaw to his glower, full-on said that he was not playing around. He had zero fucks left to give, and Ryder had basically strolled up to him trying to bum one.
Ryder, for once in his miserable life, sat silently. Something about Roone's stance pretty much said that he wasn't dicking around. Ryder was a trust-fund kid who’d gotten his job through nepotism and his parents’ connections, and no one had ever told him no in his lifetime. When Madison Jeffries walked in, Ryder was uncharacteristically silent. The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch, but as soon as it was over, Roone was out the door with me chasing on his heels.
"What’s up with you?"
"He shouldn't have talked to you like that."
"I know that. But that's also the job. I deal with shit like that all the time."
His brows furrowed. "You shouldn't have to."
Something was wrong. He was off today. "Are you okay? Because you have been acting very strange. Yes, thank you for coming to my rescue with Ryder. But it was not needed, as you saw. You're not acting like yourself, which makes me think that maybe something's up and you're about to do something horrible or steal another one of my clients, so fess up."
"It's nothing."
"Well it's something," I said as I followed him into the lift, where he kept ramming the button for the first floor.
"Nothing, I said."
"You are so hot and cold. What is going on? Look, if you don't want the LL account, great. You get to march into Rick's office and tell him. I'm happy to keep my account.” I shifted in my heels. There was a tightness around his lips and a sadness in his eyes. Something was off with him. I liked him better when he was trying to get a rise out of me. Also, I didn’t want him sad.
That’s because you like him.
No. I most certainly did not. But, if he was going to be in a mood, I wanted it to be because I put him there. Sure you do. I cleared my throat. “Maybe if you want to talk about it, whatever's bugging you, we could do that too."
He opened his mouth and then shut it. It wasn't until we were outside that he took a deep breath as we waited for the car to come around.
"I'm sorry. I'm just tense today. I have something I need to do, and I’m not looking forward to it."
"Okay, what do you have to do?"
"It's the anniversary of Mum’s passing." The car pulled up and he held the door open for me.
Oh, hell. "I'm sorry." I didn't know what to say or do or how to make any of it better, but the shadows in his eyes were too heavy to ignore. "Where is she buried? Did you get to lay flowers?"
"Sheffield Cemetery and no, not yet."
"I know it. Come on." I leaned forward to the driver and gave him instructions. The florist first. And then to drop me at the office. And then to take Roone where he needed to go.
Roone's soft voice nearly broke my heart. "Do you actually mind maybe coming with me?"
"Yeah, okay."
Roone…
Heavy raindrops hit the car in fat wet splats. Like little tiny bombs hitting the glass and the metal framing. "You didn’t have to do this.” Somewhere during the drive, her hand had eased across the seat and taken mine.
"Yes, I did."
"Why are you so being so nice?"
"Well, I have been known to be nice before."
"Yes, but not necessarily nice to me."
"I was only not nice to you because you turned up and tried to steal my clients. After you basically spanked my ass in public."
"Yeah, the good old days."
She glowered at me, but it helped lighten the mood.
"Just when I was feeling charitable."
I swallowed hard, not sure where to put the swell of emotions in the center of my chest. "Seriously though, this is a nice thing. I appreciate it."
"Yeah, of course. Just, you know, do you want me to come with you to the grave?"
Her voice was small, soft. The answer was yes. Yes, I wanted her to come with me because this is the last thing on Earth I wanted to do alone. Even though for years I had been doing it alone. Somehow this time just felt like I shouldn't.
"No. Thanks. Besides, it's raining."
"Yeah, I caught that. Come on. We'll both go."
"Jessa."
"What? A little rain never hurt anybody. Besides, there's one thing I've learned since being back in London, always carry an umbrella."
She pushed open the door, and I cursed under my breath as I immediately shoved open mine and ran around the other side to get her. I had texted Ariel what was happening, and hopefully the other guards were on their way. This was potentially dangerous. Out in the open, Jessa was a sitting duck, and this was never my intention for the day at all.
"Seriously, you're gonna get all wet."
She shrugged. "I have a coat. Stop stalling."
She reached into the car and the driver handed her the bouquet of lilies, my mother's favorite, that we'd bought at the Tesco's near the London Lords offices.
"I don't know what to say."
She turned her face up to me, eyes wide and dark with a slight smile on her lips. "How about you say thank you. Tomorrow we can return to our little war, but, today you look like you could use a friend."
She wasn't wrong about that. The umbrella was massive, so at least it covered the both of us. I pulled her to my left side, freeing my right side to be able to reach for my gun if I needed too. Cops in the UK didn't carry guns. But I'd had a special holster made and also had a special dispensation to carry. The surroundings were familiar, massive tombs intermixed with smaller ones, a hodgepodge but somehow still looking neat and pristine, eclectic as my mother would have said. She didn't want a place where everyone had to look the same. Sebastian had found this. It wasn't that she even knew anyone
who was buried here. But she'd said it was pretty, so this was where I'd laid her to rest.
As we approached, Jessa leaned in closer to me. Just the press of her warmth was enough to seep into my cold bones and warm me from the inside. The small gesture told me everything I needed to know about who she was. Jessa McLean Winston, like her brothers, was sweet. Kind. A complete pain in my ass, but someone I was lucky to have offering me comfort.
We approached and made a left at the T junction, and then I paused when I saw the man kneeling by my mother's grave. My feet cemented into the ground, and Jessa looked up, a question in her eyes. "Everything okay?"
I shook my head. "Um, no."
"What's wrong?"
"Let's go back. I'll do this another time."
"No. We're here. Is something upsetting you?"
"I just—” I didn't realize how seeing him was going to affect me. But just seeing him there, as if he belonged, it made my stomach churn.
She glanced up and then finally saw him. "Do you know that man?"
I cleared my throat. "Yeah, that's my brother."
She blinked rapidly, clearly surprised. "Oh, judging by your reaction, I can tell it's complicated."
"Yeah, complicated is the nicest way to describe it."
"Okay, it's your show. What do you want to do?"
"I want to go say hello to my mother."
"Then you go ahead. I’ll wait for you here, or I can come if you want." She handed me the flowers and wrapped her hands over mine. The warmth in them chased away the chill in my whole body.
"Thank you. But I can do it. I need to do it."
She nodded. "Okay you take this big umbrella. I have this small one in my pocket. She pulled out a smaller one. When she let go of the big one I had no choice but to hold on tight. She pulled it out and extended the umbrella. It really didn't even cover all of her hair, so I just shook my head and switched umbrellas with her. “I'll take this one."
"But you're huge."
I couldn't help it. "That's what she said."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh my God. Of course,"
"Yeah, of course. You take the bigger one.” I knew the larger one would afford her more protection if someone could see her face. "You should stay here."
"Okay. I'll wait right here."
As I approached the grave, I thought of a million things to say to my brother. A million questions, a million rebukes, but when I reached the gravesite, all I managed was "Rhys?"
He glanced up. “I hadn't expected to see you."
"The fuck are you doing here?”
He sighed and stood. “Roone, you look well."
Maybe I stammered. "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing. Here?"
“I didn’t know if you were in town. I figured someone should see her.”
“You do not get to do this. She was my fucking mother.”
Rhys glanced down at her grave. “I know. But she was… kind to me.”
“I swear before God, if you say one more word, I’ll dig you a grave right here.”
“Just listen to me. Please. I know I was a twat. I know my mother was horrible to you. Before dad died, when you’d come over, she was cruel. But I remember when I came over to your house, your mum was always nice. When she died, I wasn’t allowed to come and say goodbye.”
I glowered at him. “Fuck you.”
His shoulders slumped. “Yeah, maybe I deserve that. I'll just leave you to it." He paused. “When you're ready though. We should talk.”
I hated him.
No, you don't.
I turned away from him then and planted a hand on the wet gravestone. "Hi, mum. I'm sorry I'm late today." I placed the lilies on the stone and silently said all the things that I'd been wanting to say to her for the last year. I was aware of Jessa waiting, so I didn't want to take too long. I closed out with the usual I love you and I miss you, and I when I turned, I was surprised to find my brother still standing there.
“If you're in London now, I thought maybe—"
I glared at him. "Well, you thought wrong. Besides, I'm not back. It's only temporary."
"You know at some point you're going to have to talk to me."
"No. I don't think I will."
"Then at one point I'm going to find you and we're going to have this conversation. You can avoid it as much as you want, but we're going to talk eventually."
"If that makes you feel better to say so." I marched past him and found Jessa just where I left her.
She was shivering, but she made no complaint. "Did you say hello?"
I nodded and then stepped under the larger umbrella, taking it from her hand. "I did. I told her all about you too."
"Oh, no. Dare I even imagine what you said?"
"I told her I'd met the biggest pain in my ass ever. Also, the best kiss I've had in a long time."
Jessa stumbled then. "What?"
I grinned down at her. "Come on, let's get you back in the car. You look cold."
"Oh shit, does this mean we're becoming friends now?"
22
Roone…
All around us, people writhed and sweated, their bodies slapping into each other as skin slid over skin, breaths mingled, and groin contact was made.
“Are you ready for this?”
Jessa clapped her gloves together and grinned at me around her mouth guard. “I was born ready.”
Date two, per Ariel, was a sparring session at the posh Butterfly boxing gym in Brixton. Supposedly the owner had once fought Mayweather.
I swear to God my partner was trying to torture me. She and Jessa must have come up with a little plan on their own. Jessa was wearing barely there shorts that hugged her ass and showed off every single curve and toned muscle, complete with a midriff-baring sports bra that had her bloody tits shoved on full display.
It was more than an effort not to focus on the gentle bounce of them, but rather on the surprisingly deliberate and accurate punches that were coming from her.
Jessa moved quickly, efficiently. The instructor gave her a few cues here and there, but she wasn’t bad. She moved like someone who’d had plenty of self-defense training before.
No killer instinct though. She wasn’t really coming after me. Nothing about her said she’d known real terror. Those who had fought before were far less predictable. So far, I’d just had to keep my wits about me, watch my footwork, dance around her.
Jab. Jab. Swing.
The combinations were predictable, but Jessa was also quicker than I’d expected. Light on her feet, like a cat.
A sexy cat, whose tits you can’t stop staring at.
The thwack on the side of my head caught me off guard, and I let my façade slip just a little with a narrowed gaze.
Jessa grinned at me. “Pay attention, Roone. If you get distracted, you get hit in that oh-so-pretty face.”
“Oh really?” I couldn’t help the easy grin. Just letting a little bit of the predator out. Jessa recognized my predatory prowl and then hopped backwards. Shit, I guess she was on alert. It was as if she reassessed me on the fly.
I knew I was supposed to be good, supposed to keep up the façade of the overall nice guy. The problem was with Jessa close, I didn’t exactly feel like it. Hell, I didn’t exactly feel like myself either. Usually, I was easy going unless I was working. Chilled out, not much bothered me. But around Jessa, every primal instinct fired.
I prowled toward her. She rolled onto the balls of her feet. “Roone, why are you looking at me like that?”
I smirked. “Like what?”
Her footwork was excellent. She’d clearly had dance training too. She never turned her back to me, kept me in her sight at all times. Kept her head on the game constantly checking her sights, checking the exits. She’d had more than a little dance training. More like a lot. But still, I stopped her easily. I was bigger, and no matter how much training she’d had, I’d had more… so much more.
“You’re looking at me like you’re considering eating me for dinner
or killing me.”
I chuckled. “Well, one of those is accurate.”
She frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pop you in the face. Relax.”
I lifted a brow. “I’m not sure why it is you think killing was the option I was going to choose.” I flashed my teeth and then pounced. She easily darted out of my way and delivered me a painful jab in the kidney as she bypassed my hold.
“Well, if you’re coming after me to eat me, then this is a game of survival, isn’t it?”
“Princess, it’s always a game of survival.” Mentally, I ran through all the scenarios where she wouldn’t get hurt. Unfortunately, none of those were offensive moves. There were some throws that she wouldn’t like that would land her on her ass, but she’d be relatively unscathed. The last thing I wanted to do was hit her. But I could make her life slightly more difficult.
Our coach checked the circle as if he were refereeing an MMA match. Shuffling back and forth, assessing our stances. At some point in our little sparring match, he stopped giving me any instruction. Jessa knew how to move. Her advances were quick as a flash. I deflected them all since I knew she was here to play.
On her final advance, I feinted, then hooked my foot behind hers. She was too busy focusing on the upper blocks, and she didn't see my feet. That mistake landed her on her back.
I leaned over. “Easy now, princess. Are you all right?”
From the ground she groaned, and I reached out a hand to help her up. The next thing I knew, I was catching air. The little witch had scissor kicked me. I groaned as I landed on my fall break then jumped right back up into position.
Jessa hopped up and then pivoted around to face me. “Yeah, I’m great. How are you?”
I laughed, adjusting my stance lower. If she wanted to play, we could play. “So, it’s like that?”
She spread her arms and grinned as she danced on the balls of her feet, Muhammad Ali style. “It’s always been like that. You just didn’t know what game you were playing.”