Simmering Love (Slow Burn Book 3)

by Jacie Lennon

  But then I realize that Ben knew before we broke up and didn’t tell me. I count back on my fingers to the day we broke up. I don’t know why, but I have it memorized. It was five days ago … five long-drawn-out, emotionally wrecking days. That means those guys must have visited Ben the day we broke up.

  I drum my fingers against the steering wheel as I furrow my brow in concentration. Now, his sudden change makes more sense. He didn’t want me to find out that he owed someone money. Thirty thousand dollars at that.

  I throw the car in drive and pull out of the parking lot, not sure where I’m heading at the moment, but I find myself navigating to my apartment—well, Ben’s apartment since I don’t live there anymore.

  I’m going to confront him, and together, we will make a plan. My parents have money—not that I want to get them involved, but I would do it to save Ben’s hide.

  It still doesn’t make sense why he would break up with me. Would someone break up with a person to keep their money troubles from becoming known?

  My gut says yes. But my gut also says that’s not all there is to it.

  I pull into the parking lot outside our little apartment we shared and sit there, staring.

  This will be the first time I will see Ben since the terrible, awful words he said. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

  I shudder as the memory comes back to me. The harsh look on Ben’s face. The sadness that crashed through me.

  Pushing the door open, I stick one leg out, contemplating not even going to the door, but no, I have to do this. I have to confront whatever this is. I stride purposefully toward the door and blow a large breath out as soon as I’m standing in front of it. I raise my hand, give three crisp knocks, and wait. And wait some more. Three more knocks. No one is inside, no one makes any noise, so I walk backward a bit until I have a good view of the cars in the parking lot.

  You idiot, his truck isn’t here. I roll my eyes and then laugh at how unobservant I am.

  All the emotions I built up, come crashing down as I stare at the door. I pull my keys from my purse, inserting the apartment one in the lock, and I let myself in.

  It’s not breaking in if I have a key, right?

  Nothing has changed. I mean, it’s only been five days, but all the pictures are still there. Except for one. I notice the one on the shelf is missing. I let my fingers trail over the armrest of the couch as I walk by it, headed to look closely at the pictures I printed out and stuffed in frames even though I have them all memorized.

  There’s one where I forced him to take a picture with me outside of Vanderbilt. And a snapshot that his mom took the day we went to get Danger. The one of us smooshing our faces together as we cuddled on the couch—regular teenager stuff—is missing. His family pictures are still there, the ones I looked at the day I came to buy a couch. I turn around and look at the couch, walking toward it and sinking into the cushions. The couch that brought us together. Maybe I could sell it for thirty thousand dollars.

  The thought makes me hysterically giggle, and I stand, making my way down the hall and stopping by his bedroom door. I feel like a stalker as I reach one finger out to lightly push it, peeking in as it opens a smidgen.

  His bed is unmade, and I walk toward it. Reaching to grab a pillow, I bring it to my face, and I inhale deeply. I’ve missed his scent. His manly scent that I can’t put into words. I stop short when I see the missing picture sitting on his bedside table. Picking it up, I smile.

  He misses me. The thought makes me want to dance.

  I set the picture back down and glance around, my eyes catching on something on top of his dresser. I stop and listen, making sure I haven’t missed any noises to alert me to Ben coming home, and I pluck the piece of paper off the wooden top.

  After I unfold it, my eyes snag on an address, so I open the Maps app on my phone and look it up. It’s a location about an hour away. Underneath it is a phone number, and I save it to my Contacts. I set the piece of paper back down, folded just like I found it, and creep out of Ben’s room. I pause at my door, thinking about grabbing some stuff, but I’m on a mission, so I bypass it and stride to the front door. After locking it behind me, I practically run to my car.

  I wildly drum my fingers on the steering wheel as my brain goes a million miles a minute. I pull up the phone number I found in Ben’s room, staring at it. Part of me wants to call it, and part of me has fear churning in my gut. Those two guys weren’t playing around. I don’t know if this number has anything to do with them, but maybe I shouldn’t act too rashly.

  I could always call the police. But this sounds fishy, and I don’t want to endanger Ben before I find out what is going on with him. These people he’s dealing with didn’t look on the up and up.

  God, you might have watched one too many movies, Pep.

  Pulling my phone out, I dial my dad, realizing what I’m about to ask as it starts ringing.

  “Pepper?” Dad answers on the second ring, sounding confused.

  I don’t blame him. I don’t usually call him when I want to talk to my parents. I call my mom.

  “Hey, Dad,” I say and then pause.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You know that money you put in my account for tuition?”

  “Yes, what about it?”

  “Well … is it still mine? To do with what I want?”

  “Yes, we put that money in there for you. What do you want to do with it?”

  “Hypothetically, let’s say I’m going to put money down on a house—”

  “A house? Why are you trying to buy a house?”

  “It’s hypothetical, Dad,” I huff out.

  “Okay, hypothetically, you could use that money.”

  “Okay, let’s say that I wanted to withdraw it for that down payment—”

  “Why don’t you have the bank transfer it instead? You don’t need to withdraw it. Are you putting a down payment on a house?”

  “No. Just listen. If I wanted to withdraw, say … thirty thousand dollars, how would I go about that?”

  There’s a long pause on the other end, and then he blows out a breath.

  “Pepper, are you in trouble?”

  “No,” I say, hoping my voice sounds strong.

  “What do you need thirty thousand dollars for?”

  “It would be better if you didn’t know.” I grimace.

  “Pepper, the IRS tracks withdrawals larger than ten thousand dollars. You would have to put down what you are doing with it.”

  I sigh in frustration.

  “If you are in trouble, I have cash here in the safe. It would be better for you to come here, so we can talk. I don’t like the sound of this.” His voice brooks no argument.

  I regret calling him. I don’t want to bring him in the middle of this. Whatever this is. I don’t have any idea, but I know that you aren’t involved in a shakedown in the middle of a parking lot with nice people who will just accept your excuse of, Sorry, couldn’t get the money. Can I have an extension?

  “Okay, thanks for the information. I’ll let you know.”

  “Pepper, what is this about? I’m starting to worry about you,” he says.

  I reach up to rub my eyes. “I’m okay. I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I can.”

  After he tells me to let him know something as soon as possible, we say our good-byes, and I hang up the phone. I try to rack my brain on what to do. It throws a wrench into things that I can’t just go withdraw the money without people wanting answers. Answers I don’t have.

  All I can do is wait for Ben to get home. This is something we need to talk about in person. I’m angry, confused, and a little hurt about all of this. He’s got some explaining to do.

  I get out of my car and head back to the apartment, content to sit on the couch and wait.

  29

  Ben

  I gingerly walk to the front door and open it, almost dying from a heart attack when a body appears on the other side of it. I raise a hand t
o strike, but even in the dark, I recognize it’s Pepper.

  “What the fuck, Pepper? I almost killed you.” I try not to growl at her as I step inside and close the door, fighting the urge to check and make sure no one is watching.

  She snorts as if she doesn’t believe me. “I’m gonna kill you if you don’t tell me what is going on.” Her face is angry, arms crossed over her chest, and I see the paper from my dresser in her hand.

  “You’ve been going through my things?”

  “No, Ben, you don’t get to be mad at me. I had two men approach me at school today and tell me in no uncertain terms that you should make sure you have their money in two days—or else.”

  Fuck.

  “God, Pepper. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine, and no. Just scared me a little, but I’ve gone on a wild goose chase to figure out what is going on. At first, I thought you were in trouble, and I almost called this number—”

  “You called that number?” I point at the piece of paper in her hand. “Oh no. No, no, no.” I swipe a hand down my face. “I was supposed to call them when I had the money.”

  “No. I said, I almost called the number. But now that we’re talking about it, please tell me about the money. What is going on?”

  “Let me sit down first,” I say, walking in.

  “Wait, where are your crutches?” she asks.

  I hobble toward the couch, my ankle still tender. “I got rid of them today, doctor’s orders.”

  “So, your ankle is better?”

  “Yes, it’s a little iffy still, but I can put weight on it now.”

  “I’m glad,” she says, reaching to grab my arm and walking with me.

  “I can walk on my own,” I say with a smile.

  She glares back at me. “I know. I just wanted to touch you. But now that you are sitting, please tell me what’s going on.”

  “It’s not technically me who owes money. It’s Mark.”

  Pepper is silent, just listening, and I stretch my neck, uncomfortable under her angry gaze.

  “To who?”

  “I don’t know really. He’s just involved with some bad people. He owes them money from his gambling. People who would set an apartment building on fire, trying to kill him. That’s the kind of people we are dealing with.”

  “How do you know it’s those people? And why would they kill him if he owes money? Wouldn’t they want him alive, so they could get it from him?”

  “I don’t have all the answers. I’m hoping that Mark will talk once we fix this problem.”

  “Look, I don’t mean to be an awful person, but don’t you think Mark should take care of this himself?”

  “They will kill him, Pepper. They already tried once.”

  “Allegedly.”

  I sigh. She’s firing back an answer for everything I say.

  “Allegedly, yes. But all the same, these people won’t just let this go.”

  “What about going to the police?” she asks, arms crossed and one toe tapping.

  “They threatened me about going to the police. I’m not made for this life. I’m not like Liam Neeson, who lives to fuck shit up. I just want Mark safe and unharmed.”

  “So, he can just go back out and endanger you again?”

  “No. I will have to force him to get some sort of help to make sure that he’s safe and that we are safe.”

  “Speaking of we, what happened there? Is this the reason you broke up with me? You didn’t want to tell me about this?”

  “Yes. Partly. They threatened me about you too. I didn’t want to tell you, and I wanted to protect you, so I decided to be an idiot.”

  She grunts, obviously in agreement. “So, what you are telling me is, Mark is involved with some sort of Mafia-type people, and his little gambling problem has landed you in a world of trouble. And by extension—I’m still not sure why—it has caused the demise of our relationship, which I’m not happy about. I’m not happy about any of this. You should have told me.”

  “I know. I’ve regretted not telling you since the day you left. But I wanted this all to be over before I came to beg for you to come back.”

  “Anyway, we will talk about that later.” She finally plops down on the other side of the couch. “I have a semi-solution.”

  “You have a solution?” I say.

  She looks ready to strangle me, and I don’t want to get any closer.

  “I do. Maybe.” She reaches up to massage her temples. “I have the money my parents put in my account—”

  “I’m not taking your money. I don’t want you involved in this.”

  “I’m already involved. I met the two henchmen of the apocalypse, and they made me their little messenger. They know who I am. I’m helping. Anyway, I talked to my dad, and he said any withdrawal over ten thousand will get flagged by the IRS.”

  “I know, Pepper.”

  “Perfect. Here is my idea: I’ll take out the thirty thousand, and then it will get flagged. We write down some of the serial numbers, and then they get their money. When we get a little visit from the IRS, we give them the numbers, and they track them.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a great idea. They said no cops.”

  “It’s perfect. What are you talking about, no cops?” she says, her eyes wide like she can’t believe I’m disagreeing.

  “I’m hesitant to get any type of authorities involved.”

  “There’s probably no way around it unless your parents have thirty thousand just sitting around in cash somewhere. Have you talked to them?”

  “Not yet. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

  “Well, you don’t have much time left, and from where I’m sitting, this is the best idea.”

  “It’s the only idea,” I say with a self-deprecating chuckle.

  As much as I didn’t want to bring Pepper into this, her idea is looking better and better, the more I think about it. I should have just talked to her first.

  “You shouldn’t have broken up with me over this, Ben.” Her voice sounds so sad now, and my heart clenches.

  I make a fist and tap it against my leg a few times, looking away so I don’t have to stare at her big brown eyes.

  “I know,” I say.

  She nods and turns her head, blinking a few times. “You should have let me decide for myself. My entire life, people have made the decisions for me. I don’t want you to be another one of those people.”

  “God, I’m sorry, Pepper. I feel like an ass for doing that. I just didn’t want to place you in danger.”

  “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not. I want to know that I get to make my own decisions from here on out.”

  “I promise you that I won’t make any more decisions without consulting you.”

  “I know you’re only human, Ben. None of us is perfect, and I’m still mad at you for breaking up with me, but for now, we have to figure this out.”

  She stands up and begins to pace, and I enjoy the sight of her in our apartment once more. Yeah, I still refer to it as ours. I haven’t stopped loving her.

  “Will you stay here with me tonight?” I don’t want her to leave. I haven’t been able to focus since she’s been gone. I even dragged our picture into my room, so I could stare at it on the bedside table.

  She looks at me for a long moment, chewing on her bottom lip before nodding slightly. I can’t help myself. I break out into a grin and wrap my arms around her.

  It takes a second, but she raises her arms, placing them around my neck, and I tuck my nose into her neck, breathing in.

  “I’m really sorry, baby.”

  “I know,” she says, patting my back.

  God, it feels so good to be touching her again.

  Pepper pulls back, wiping under each eye, and I feel like an ass all over again for making her cry.

  “I should call Mason and let him know I’m moving back in,” she says.

  I nod, agreeing with her. I figure he won’t be happy about it, but I only had the
best intentions for Pepper, no matter how badly I went about them. She gets up, grabbing her phone from her pocket, and walks away, bringing her phone to her ear. Once he answers and she lets him know, I can hear him yelling on the other end, and I grimace.

  It won’t be fun to see him again.

  Finally, she hangs up and looks at me with a grin.

  “Mason says he’s going to kick your ass the next time he sees you.”

  She starts to laugh, and I break into a smile at her laughter. I’ve missed it.

  “I wouldn’t expect any less,” I say, glad that Pepper has other people in her corner, willing to fight for her. “Hopefully, he won’t try until I’m not hobbling around on my ankle anymore.”

  “Hopefully,” she says, coming to sit down beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. “It feels great to be back.”

  30

  Pepper

  “Hey,” I say, raising my head and resting my chin on Ben’s chest while we are laying in his bed.

  He tilts his head down to look at me, his hand drifting up to play with the ends of my hair.

  “Don’t keep stuff from me anymore, okay? I’m a big girl. I can handle it … even if it’s Mafia-related.”

  He frowns down at me, and I scrunch my nose up.

  “Okay, but let’s not get involved with the Mafia ever again.”

  “Deal.”

  I push up and plant a light kiss on his lips, and he grabs me, holding me in place and deepening the kiss.

  “Wait, we still have to decide what to do,” I murmur, pushing against his chest.

  “Later,” he whispers back.

  Rolling me over, he trails his tongue between my breasts, leaving a searing kiss on each nipple before continuing down my stomach. I lean my head back, close my eyes, and moan as soon as he hits the spot aching for him. Aching for his tongue to do naughty, naughty things. We spend the next two hours lost in each other, forgetting about everything else but us and ecstasy.

  Ben’s phone ringing pulls us from our sleep. We crashed after he made me come for the third time. My lady bits are sore, but I’m happy to be back in his bed. I grimace as I turn over, reaching for the bedside table to pick up the cell.