by Leighton, M.
“Good God, you’re like all the best parts of a woman without all the annoying parts.”
Her laugh is light. “Um, o-kay. I guess I should thank you?”
“Oh, it was definitely a compliment. It makes me that much more anxious to uncover all your parts.”
I step in closer to her. She doesn’t move away; she stands her ground, which is a huge turn-on for me. I like that she’s willing, openly interested. I like that she doesn’t try to pretend otherwise, like so many women do. It’s boring and childish. And it’s false. Most women want to be talked into it, eased into it, as if they’re being coerced. It soothes their conscience, I guess. God forbid they take the situation by the balls and have fun with it. But I think Marissa will. She’ll give in. And she’ll like it. And I’d say she’s woman enough that she won’t make any excuses for wanting it.
“They’re just parts, like any other woman’s,” she replies breathily, trying to be casual.
“I’d be willing to bet your parts are exceptional. In fact, now might be a good time to warn you that if we come back to this library, I’ll find out for myself. In this very spot. I’ll push you up against the books in the corner and I’ll put my hands on you. I’ll do things to you. In the quiet. And you won’t be able to make a sound. Not a whimper, not a moan. You’ll have to bite your lip to keep it all inside. And you know what?” I ask, reaching up to trace my index finger along her full, trembling lower lip.
“What?” she whispers, her pupils two dilated dots of excitement.
“You’ll love every second of it.”
With a wicked grin, I take the books from her arms and turn to walk back the way I came.
SIX
Marissa
As I watch Cash pull away from the curb with Nash in the passenger seat, I can’t help but feel a bit breathless when his eyes meet mine through the glass of the window. He doesn’t smile. Or wink. Or flirt. He just watches me, intently. I feel like I’m snapping out of a hot, sticky spell when Olivia speaks from behind me.
“So, how’d the research go?”
I turn to look at her. She kicked off her shoes and poured us each a Coke as soon as she came through the door from school. Now she’s curled up on the couch, watching me with the hint of a smile lurking around her lips.
“Very well, actually,” I respond, walking over to sit on the opposite end of the couch.
And it did. Despite the rising sexual tension between us, Nash was helpful. He’s so sharp and catches on so quickly, it makes me wonder if he didn’t do some light law-book reading while he was . . . wherever he was.
“What’d you find out?”
“Even though we had to give up the original accounting ledgers, there might still be a RICO case against them. This might be a way around them, so we don’t have to worry about Duffy helping us get the ledgers back. If we could get Duffy to testify, we might really have a shot. Of course, I’d want someone who knows a lot more about this type of case than me to go over everything before we show our hand.”
“Do you know someone you can trust with something this big?”
I smile when I think how handy it was that I ran into Jensen at the library. He might be just the person I could go to for help. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Oooh, that smile looks juicy. Can I get some details?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that I ran into a guy I know at the library. He works for the DA. He sort of asked me out. Pretty amazing coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Sure is.” Olivia nods but says nothing else for a few seconds. She clears her throat. “So, did, uh, Nash meet this guy?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what? I tried to introduce him, but I started to bungle it, so he took care of it. Introduced himself as Cash. He had to since he couldn’t be sure at the time that Jensen didn’t know Cash as Nash. Good call on his part.”
“And he’s okay with all this?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just now thought of it. But why wouldn’t he be?”
It’s Olivia’s turn to shrug. “I just get the impression that he might find you . . . interesting. I didn’t know how he’d view competition.”
A little thrill races down my spine that Olivia picked up on it. I know it’s there, but for some reason I like that he’s not able to completely hide it from everyone else. Because I know he tries. It makes me feel like his control might not be bulletproof. I guess it’s every girl’s dream to be a man’s one true weakness. But that’s just an egotistical dream because, in reality, I doubt any woman will ever be a weakness for a guy like Nash. The destruction of someone like him usually comes from within.
“I don’t think Nash sees anyone as competition.”
Olivia laughs. “That’s probably true. He’s pretty confident, even though he’s got that . . . rough edge.”
“Yes, he certainly is. And yes, he’s definitely . . . rough.”
And I’m just crazy enough to be completely and utterly drawn to it.
“Cash has had some big blows over the years, but I can definitely see why Nash would be bitter, why he had to develop those rough edges. I mean the guy was practically exiled. As a teenager. And after witnessing the murder of his mother, no less.”
“And that seems so strange to me.”
“What does?”
“That their father would send Nash away like that, but let Cash pretend to be him. What possible purpose could that serve? It sounds just plain mean.”
“Well, at the time that he sent Nash away, Cash playing both boys wasn’t part of the plan. He sent Nash away to protect him. And the evidence. Not only was he an eyewitness, but he had a very valuable piece of the puzzle on his phone. I guess their dad was doing his best to play it safe until he could figure out what to do. But then he went to prison. And Cash ended up playing both brothers so that his father wouldn’t go down for the murder of his mother and his brother. And by the time Cash started the deception, he couldn’t really talk to his father about it in prison. All those conversations are monitored.”
“Do you think Cash was ever in any real danger?”
Olivia shrugs. “I don’t know, but it sounds like these . . . people never knew Nash witnessed the crime or had the video, so I’d say not. But I guess he could’ve been, had they ever found out somehow. I can see how things got so crazy. There was so much going on, and so many questions. I guess their father just did the best he could for his family, and they all had to live with the consequences. It’s hard to tell what any of us would do in a situation like that. Cash finds out his mother and brother were killed and the murder was being blamed on his father, who is then carted off to prison. For Nash, he was nearly blown to bits and was the only real witness to the murder of his mother. He got banished from everything and everyone he’s ever known. And for their father, he lost his wife, got framed for her murder, and had to send one of his sons away in an effort to keep him safe. Or so he thought at the time. It’s like a comedy of errors. Only there’s nothing funny about it.”
I sigh. There are so many complex sides to Nash. The more I learn about him and his past, the more questions I have. “It sounds like Nash has a legitimate reason to be upset, then. His father surely could’ve let him come home before now, once he realized there was no danger.”
“I think he was keeping as many aces up his sleeve as he could until all this played out.”
My head is beginning to hurt as I chase these thoughts round and round. “Well, maybe being back, being able to live his life and be with his family, will help smooth out those rough edges a little.”
“Maybe,” Olivia says, but I think she believes that’s possible just about as much as I do. Which is not possible at all. I think Nash is the way he is, and not much will change it at this point.
SEVEN
Nash
I let the silence in the car stretch on until I feel like Cash might be getting uncomfortable. That’s when I make my move. I want him off balance, unprepared. I want his knee-jerk reaction. I want honesty. I won’t settle for anything else, even if I have to beat it out of him.
“Who were you talking to on the phone this morning?”
At least he has the good sense not to bother trying to deny it. Or cover it up.
“Duffy.”
“Were you going to tell me about it? Or just keep that little detail to yourself?”
I feel my temper rising just talking about it, reliving the conversation I overheard and how angry it made me.
“Did you do this?” Cash had asked, obviously referring to someone wrecking me on his bike. But that wasn’t what made me so mad; it was that he immediately started making plans, taking matters into his own hands. Without even mentioning it to me.
“What the hell are we gonna do now? I have to make adjustments to protect the people I love.”
“There’s nothing to tell. I wanted to know if he had something to do with the hit on you. He said he didn’t.”
Even now, he’s not being totally straight with me. “And?”
“And nothing. That’s it. I believe him.”
“Really?” I say dryly, crossing my arms over my chest to keep from wrapping my hands around his throat and squeezing. I can’t remember if I’ve always found him this irritating and infuriating. If I did, it’s a wonder I didn’t kill him when we were younger. “You believe what the guy who killed our mother said? Just like that?”
“No, not ‘just like that.’ I just think it makes more sense that he wasn’t involved. Obviously, he’s still loyal to Dad. Why else would he have responded to the ad? And if Dad didn’t trust him, why would he have brought him to us? Duffy would have to be a freakin’ moron to go to all the trouble of responding to the ad, coming out to meet us, confessing all the shit he did, and then turn on us. He doesn’t strike me as that much of a dumbass.”
I guess he makes a good point. That would be pretty stupid. But that doesn’t make me feel any better about Duffy. “Even if he didn’t have something to do with it, I still think he’s a slimy bastard the world would be better off without.”
I hear Cash sigh. “Look, it’s not that I don’t agree with you. I mean, the guy killed Mom and would’ve kidnapped and killed Olivia. He’s a lowlife, no question. But if he can help us in any way to get rid of the whole problem, or at least most of it, I’m okay with keeping him around until after all is said and done.”
I glance over at Cash. I know my surprise registers on my face. “You sneaky son of a bitch. You’re gonna use him to help us and then kill him.”
“I’m not killing anybody,” is his only response. To me, that says he’s got someone else in mind to do it. Probably that monster of a friend of his, Gavin. That guy reminds me of some of the smugglers I’ve met over the years. Not men to be messed with. Some of them even put a little unease in me, which is saying a lot. There are some scary bastards out there!
I’m impressed and admittedly pleased to see a little of the old Cash showing through. Finally. In a way, we’ve almost switched places and it’s somehow comforting to see a glimpse of the reckless brother I used to know. Reckless and hotheaded. I’d be willing to bet Cash was like a wild animal right after the accident.
“How was it after Mom died?”
Between the abrupt change in subject and the new subject matter, I think I put Cash off balance again. And made him angry, too.
“How the hell do you think it was? It was awful.”
“I know that,” I say, exercising my patience. “I meant, how was it for you? You were kind of a loose cannon. I can’t imagine that you took it well. Did you go ballistic on some poor bastard you met at the bar?”
I see the muscle in his jaw clench as he thinks back. “Surprisingly, I didn’t. With all the buzz about Dad, it was like a circus for a while. It was like losing one parent and then watching the other one slowly dying. Then there were the accounting books, of course. I felt like I was holding plutonium for the first few weeks. And then there was your supposed death. I guess it was sort of a good thing that I had to pretend to be you. It kept me busy with . . . life until the trial was over and Dad was in prison. By then, I knew what I had to do and I focused on getting through school. And researching. I did lots and lots of research. Any big blowup I was going to have was just . . . over.” He falls quiet, and so do I. I’m trying to imagine what he went through, how it felt to lose almost everything. Put myself in his shoes. It’s not all that hard. In a way, I lost more than he did.
“You know, Nash, I never enjoyed pretending to be you, pretending to be the brother I could never compare to, never live up to. The person I missed like a . . . a . . . like my damn arm. Despite the accomplishments, I never once got any peace or pleasure from being you. Not once.”
“I’m not surprised. You were always the cool one, the one who got to have all the fun. I’d say pretending to be me was a lot like being in prison.”
“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I didn’t mean it like that. Look, man, I’m just saying that it wasn’t the picnic out here that you seem to think it was.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I say, deadpan. Cash’s head whips toward me, like he’s expecting to see sarcasm or bitterness on my face. And he’s ready for it. When he sees that I’m serious, that I’m sincere, he looks at first confused, then deflated.
After a few miles of silence, during which we both have time to think and calm down, to get our bearings again, he asks me the same question. I’m sure he’s curious and I’m sure he’s wanted to ask before now, but considering how mad I was at first, he probably didn’t want to stir up that shit and make it stink any worse.
“What about you? How was it for you after the accident?”
“A lot like it was for you, I guess. When I woke up, I was floating under the dock with my head banging up against one of the pilings. I doubt anyone even saw me. The cavalry was just on their way by the time I got out of the water.
“I had no idea what the hell had happened, so I called Dad. Took me a few minutes to find my phone. I guess it flew out of my hand when the bomb went off and knocked me into the water. It was lying on the dock a few dozen feet from where I was standing. Thank God it didn’t go in the water with me or we’d be screwed. Without those books, that video is all the leverage we’ve got to get Dad out of prison.”
Cash nods in agreement. “No shit.”
“Anyway, I took off to call Dad. I was the lucky one who got to tell him his wife had been killed.” There’s no keeping the bitterness from my voice on that point. “But the upside was that it gave him time to think. And to prepare a little, I guess. I told him about the video. That’s when he told me I had to leave, that it wasn’t safe for any of us anymore, especially me since I had the video. Too many unknowns. And I was the only witness. Well, you get the idea. So he told me where he’d stashed his getaway . . . stuff, had me go there to get the money and the passports, and told me to disappear.”
“How’d you end up on a smuggler’s ship, then?”
“I told you before that he sent me to his contact. Are you gonna let me finish?”
Cash nods, but says nothing. Makes me feel like a piece of shit for being so short-tempered, but I just can’t seem to help myself. It’s hard to give a damn after so long. And I’m not entirely sure I even want to. Caring just gets you in trouble. That’s how I’ve managed to survive all this time—the only thing I cared about was getting to the day I’d finally take my revenge.
“Sorry. Continue,” he says.
I sigh. “Along with the money and passports, there was a cell phone with a few contacts already loaded into it. There were also a couple of notes. One was to Mom. I guess it was his plan B, in case something happened to
him. Just him telling her he loved her, and that he was sorry, and to do exactly what they’d talked about. I guess she knew what to do with everything, who to call. But then there was another note. It was to us in the event something happened to both Mom and Dad. It just said to call Dmitry. He’d know what to do. So I did. He told me to get to Savannah right away. Told me to hole up in a motel there and not leave it until midnight on the following Saturday. He gave me the address of a dive down near the wharf. Told me to meet him there, that he’d know me. And he did. Said I looked a lot like Dad.”
“Is he the one you . . . worked with?”
I smirk at his attempt to so delicately state that I was a gun runner. It’s nothing less than ironic that the more straitlaced of the two of us, the most likely to succeed in the corporate world, turned out to be the criminal. To this day, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
“No, he’s just the one who set it all up. Evidently, if something had happened to Dad, he was supposed to get us out of the country, but only Mom knew what to do after that. If there was a place to go or money or whatever. All I had was the little bit of money that was in the bag and the clothes on my back. He did the only thing he could do, I guess. He got me a job.”
I know Cash wants to ask questions about what I was involved in, but his social skills have so much improved since we were younger that he shows restraint and keeps his mouth shut. Which is a good thing. I don’t want to talk about it. Not with him, not with anybody. I’m not exactly proud of the way I’ve spent my time over the last seven years.
“You had to do what you had to do, man. No one blames you. You were just a kid.”
My laugh is bitter. “Listen to you, trying to make your big brother feel better about giving in to the family curse.”
“You’re only older than me by four minutes, so don’t get too hung up on the ‘big brother’ thing. And what’s that supposed to mean? ‘The family curse’?”
“We have criminal blood. I always thought it was a choice, but I don’t think it ever was. I think it’s what we’re destined for. As a family.”