He thinks it’s for the best. It doesn’t matter that I don’t agree.
One day. I’ll give him one day to reply and if he doesn’t, then… then, that’s it. I’m done. I deserve better.
One day and then I’m done.
Chapter 15
Jacobi
Kase shows up at ten in the morning. I have a giant contract to finish with the biggest oil company in the nation that I haven’t started on because I swam twice the distance I normally do, stood under the shower spray for three times as long as usual, and then stared at the background of my computer screen for the last hour.
It’s been like this for weeks.
Kase gives me an excuse to shut the monitor off.
He barges through the front door. “I fucking found him.” His voice echoes through the house and I fly to the top of the stairs.
Energy infuses my body. “Sully?”
“Yes. The sister’s been emailing her friends. She’s worried sick about him and what he’s up to with his drug dealer of a girlfriend.”
“Let’s go.”
He holds up a hand. “First, we talk about what exactly we’re going to do. If I’m in this with you, we aren’t barging in with our big dicks swinging and asking what the hell he’s doing.”
“Why not?”
“Because my big dick sticks to the shadows. I don’t need my name and face getting thrown around or that I deal with petty guys like Sully.”
“You can stay in the car.”
“I also don’t need you getting plugged with a couple of forties.”
“Fine, whatever you think is best. I’m going to get changed.” Since Kase is wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt, I go for the same outfit. We’ll stand out looking like some Matrix thugs in the middle of the damn day, but I can’t wear board shorts and a tan. At least I shaved this morning during my marathon shower.
If I let my scruff grow out, I’ll feel London’s fingers trailing through it.
I rush down the stairs and Kase automatically follows me to the garage. He’s helping me, and I’ll be damned if he goes down for anything I’m doing.
Besides, Sully is mine. If he runs and I have to hunt him down, it’s my fender on the line, not Kase’s.
He gives me directions, and as I weave through the streets, the buildings get older and increasingly run-down.
Kase peers out the window. “This looks more like where I grew up.”
“I thought your parents made bank.” Fixers usually need a lot of money to keep things covered up—and to keep quiet.
“White picket fences and gated communities grow pussies.” He rattled it off like it’s a family motto.
“So you guys were millionaires and lived in the projects?”
“If I couldn’t take care of myself here, then I couldn’t go into the family business. Our vacations were baller though.”
I try to picture it, growing up like I did but in reality, having a shitload of money. I can’t. As soon as I saw the light of making bank, I made as much as I could to buy my little slice of private life.
Kase points up ahead. “It’s the next block over. Turn the corner and park.”
I do as he says, deferring to his expertise. He was probably staking out targets when he was still in diapers.
“Now what?” I can barely see the house situated on the far corner of the block. It’s like all the rest. Scraggly bushes, bars on the windows, and a beater silver hatchback sitting in the driveway that looks like it could fall apart after a few miles.
“We watch for ten minutes. Then we come back after dark.”
“What?”
He lifts a brow. “You were so fucking hot to get here, I figured I’d let you see firsthand why I didn’t rush here in the first place.”
Point made, but I want to strangle him.
“Besides, you’re so whipped that you needed to get out of the house instead of crying over your lonely dick.”
“You like talking about our dicks.”
“I like doing more than talking, but the old lady has been a little frosty lately.”
I stay out of that conversation. Kase and his “old lady” are an on-again, off-again couple that should stay permanently off. But I blackmailed a woman into marrying me, so I’m not in a place to comment.
Kase isn’t done talking. “She’s all friendly with my parents and then I come home and…” He shakes his head. We fall quiet for a while, then he looks at me. “What do you think?”
“Of what?” I’m still glaring at the house, waiting for movement.
“Lucia.”
I groan. “Kase, if you wanted my opinion, you would’ve listened when both Cannon and I said she was crazy as fuck and you should find another ass to tap. But you not only tapped it, you moved it in. You licked it, it’s yours.”
“All women are crazy.”
“There’s crazy and then there’s Lucia.”
“True.” He stares out the windshield.
“I think you’re like me, only you don’t like being alone.”
“And you do?”
“I don’t know anything else.” That’s a lie. There was alone before London and there’s alone after her. The two are completely different and only one is going to drive me insane.
“I think if I broke up with her, she’d hire my parents to take me out.”
“You told her what the family business is?”
“She figured it out.”
“Dude.”
“Yep.” He’s stuck with Lucia until she gets sick of his shit enough to leave. But knowing what she knows, she might never leave. “Okay. Let’s drive on by and come back after dark.”
I want answers and I want Sully stopped. He’s threatening London and he might be in that house.
Again, I do what he asked—until I reach the driveway. Then I park cockeyed behind the hatchback. “I’m taking care of this now.”
“I knew it. I fucking knew you would.” Kase gets out, his keen gaze sweeping the neighborhood. No one’s outside in the heat this time of day. They’re either at work or sleeping for the nightshift.
I stride up to the door, tempted to kick it in. At the last second, I test the handle.
It’s locked, but a gravelly female voice calls out. “The fuck you want?”
“I’m here to talk to Sully,” I call.
She cackles. “You’ll have to come back. He’s gonna be passed out for hours.”
My heart rate spikes. He’s here. He’s really fucking here. I try a different route. “His sister sent us to check on him. Can I come inside?”
“No.”
Kase pipes up. “Two hundred for your time.”
Money. I should’ve thought of it.
The door cracks and a bloodshot eyeball peers out at us. “Lemme see the cash first.”
I pull out my wallet, peel two bills off for her, and slide them through the crack, but I have to ensure she’ll open the door. “There’ll be another hundred when we’re done if you can keep this between us.”
A thin eyebrow pops up, wrinkling a crusting lesion on her forehead. “Another two.”
“Three if you tell us what you know about him.”
“Four.”
If only my dad negotiated that well. “Deal. Open up.”
She does. The smell hits us first. Body funk. A mixture of piss, probably feces, unwashed dishes and rotting food all at once. A tang of vomit stains the air. I control my expression as I enter. No sense insulting her since she’s been the biggest help on this case.
“Where is he?” I ask, my voice more sinister than I intend.
Doubt flickers in her pale blue eyes. Her hair’s fried from too much bleaching and half of her teeth are missing. Skin hangs off her frame. “I don’t want no trouble.”
“Neither do we. I just gotta see him.”
She juts her chin toward the hall where dark-stained walls lead to three doors. “Last one.”
I gesture for her to go first. Her mouth screws up, bu
t she glances at my hip where my wallet is and decides I must be worth the prospect of more cash.
The stench intensifies as we near the bedroom. She squeaks open the door and there he is. Sprawled across a grungy mattress with no sheets is my own personal boogeyman. Older and more weathered than I ever imagined. As a teen, I thought Sully looked ancient. As an adult, he’s just old. Thinning brown hair lays in a futile comb-over, stubble that’s more gray than anything, and clothes that needed a washing a hundred wearings ago. His shirt was once white and will never be that color again and it’s riding halfway up his belly. His boxers thankfully cover his privates. I’m seeing too much as it is.
“How long has he been here?” I ask.
She runs her tongue over what’s left of her teeth and rubs her nose. Then she folds her arms and sniffs. “He comes here every week. Sobers up and goes back on the weekend to visit his sister. But you know that.” Her tone tells me she doesn’t believe my story. And I don’t care.
Kase steps into the room, trying to stay on the dingy carpet and not on the clothing strewn all over. “How long has he been staying with you?”
“Six months.”
He’s been close enough to make contacts and fuck with me.
Except as I look at the man, I don’t see a guy who could dig through old photos, digitalize them, and buy a different burner phone to send each one. Nor do I see a guy who can afford to hire the job done. I glance at Kase. His calculating expression tells me he’s come to the same conclusion.
I look at the nightstand, then on the floor for a pair of pants. “Does he have a phone?”
She coughs as she answers. “A piece of shit flip phone.”
“Can I see it?”
She studies me and I think I might have to offer more money, but she stoops down and grabs a pair of pants that have a strong smell of urine wafting off them. When she hands me the phone, I don’t want to touch it.
Keeping my face neutral, I accept it. “Thanks.”
A quick peek leads to nothing. He has a few numbers in here and the call history goes back to when he got out of jail.
Fuck.
Fuck.
What does this all mean?
I exchange a glance with Kase. We’re done here. I head down the hall and pull out my wallet to count out four hundreds where she can’t see. “Thanks for your help.”
She grabs them and gives me a onceover. “I’ll take care of you and your friend. Give ya a discount.”
My blood runs cold. “Is he your pimp?”
She chortles. “Sully? Hell, no. I am an independent contractor.”
Sully isn’t even in the pimping game anymore. “Thank you for the offer. I’m afraid we’ll have to pass.”
We leave without incident, deadbolts slamming into place behind us.
I wish I could walk around the block and let the smell air out of my clothing before getting into my car. I might have to order it detailed.
Kase waits until we’re back in Malibu before saying, “It can’t possibly be him.”
“Yeah.”
“You gotta do some more digging into your past.”
The problem is that we scoured everything. “We exhausted my past.”
“Then start at the beginning. This started when you were in Mexico.”
I nod. Why then?
“London,” he says.
“What about her? You think she did this?” I fully believe she didn’t know who I was in Mexico. Or about her dad’s real past.
He snorts. “The pictures would’ve come with heart emojis and palm trees. No, it started after you connected with her. Maybe it’s not about you.”
Ice washes through my veins. “Don’t tell me I divorced her to keep her safe only to put her in more danger.”
“I won’t comment on the karma of it.”
I slant a glare at him. “Her dad. We start digging on Dennis Vanderbeek.”
It looks like I’m not done with Natural Glow or its owner yet.
* * *
London
I’ve been putting in sixteen-hour days, staying in my office until darkness seeps through my floor-to-ceiling windows. I love coming into work, being surrounded by my team, having snacks in the break room with them and catching up on their lives. But I’ve defaulted to a large sunglasses-wearing CEO that breezes through the entrance and ignores everyone.
My first month of single living sucks so bad I want to stay in bed and cry. How can I know a guy for only a month and become so attached?
I guess that’s my thing.
Except when relationships ended before, I was left with a shame and guilt and a conviction that I could’ve done better. This time, the it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t work. Jacobi gave up on us. He used the excuse of my safety to revert back to his hermit self and keep from getting close to anyone.
We took dance lessons together. He let me into his office. He claimed to care about me enough to let me go.
I blink back tears as I stare at my computer.
Diana enters my office. Her mom radar has been on high since I’ve been back. “Do you need a break?”
“No. I’m going to order in.”
She puts her hands on her trim hips. “Come to lunch with me and Roland. He doesn’t mind.”
My stomach sinks. I don’t want to deal with Roland. He’s nice, but he also sets off my sleaze radar. I have no reason to think he’s a douche, and it’s most likely some deep-seated jealousy about Diana dating again, but it’s been enough to keep me from being insanely happy that he and Diana hit it off so fast.
Roland and my dad are so similar. Before my enlightenment, that was a good thing. Now, the whole Roland package doesn’t make me want to have lunch with him, ever.
“Please, London,” Diana murmurs. “I’m worried about you.”
I let out a long-suffering sigh. I’ll suffer one meal with Roland making googly eyes at Diana so she can worry less. “Fine. And I’m just being a baby. You don’t have to be concerned about me.”
“Except that you’ve never gotten like this. When Jonathon dumped you, you cried for a day, had an ice cream pity party, then declared ‘fuck him’ and went back to your normal self.”
“It’s only been a month,” I mumble.
“You haven’t known Jacobi much longer than that.”
I lean back in my chair and swivel side to side with my feet anchoring me. “That’s weird, isn’t it?” Diana lifts a manicured brow, but she lets me keep musing. “If Dad and Jacobi’s parents had been able to start Natural Glow together, Jacobi and I would’ve grown up together. We might have gotten married anyway. He could’ve been running the company.”
She crosses her arms. “What’s the point of that line of thinking?”
“That it feels like I’ve known him so much longer than a month. I feel like…” We were meant to be together. And then he signed divorce papers instead of figuring out how to move forward.
“Is that helping you through the breakup?”
I pout. “No.”
“Okay. Then come out to lunch.”
I grab my purse and sling it over my head and shoulder. With my thoughts stuck on Jacobi, I haven’t dared to carry anything that could get left behind in my yearning-induced fog.
Heat beats all around us as we stroll to the upscale diner a block away from our office. I have my large sunglasses in place, hoping they’re big enough to hide the bags under my eyes. Not only am I sleeping like shit, but I wake up every morning reaching for him. Cue bout of ugly crying. Unyielding Mascara was a lifesaver.
A dark car parks in front of the restaurant. A driver runs around and opens the door. The tall form of Roland unfolds. He cuts a striking figure in his expensive suit. His bald head gleams under the sun and adds to the brutal businessman appeal. His smile is warm when he spots Diana and his brows lift when he sees me. His proprietary smile sets me on edge.
He gives Diana a kiss on the cheek. “London. How nice you can join us.”
Another tall man walks around the back of the car. A younger man close to my age with a tightly trimmed head of dirty blond hair. The navy suit he’s wearing is a solid attempt to strike an imposing figure, but mostly the guy could blend in anywhere.
I faintly recall Diana telling me that Roland has a son, an only child.
Realization dawns. If this is Roland’s son, I’ve been set up. I glare at Diana from behind my dark lenses.
Diana’s smile is stuck in place, but the lines around her eyes deepen. “This must be Danielson. Your father talks so much about you. I didn’t realize you were in town.”
So, she didn’t know that Roland’s son, who I’m guessing is single, is joining us? My tension eases. I shouldn’t have doubted her. She isn’t Jacobi Dixon’s number one fan, but she is mine. Dating is the last thing on my mind.
Roland’s grin broadens. “Danielson, have you met London, Diana’s stepdaughter?”
Danielson’s smile is pleasant, his eyes assessing.
I refuse to stand like an expensive car up for auction. “Nice to meet you.” Sticking my hand out, I give him a perfunctory handshake with more muscle than usual.
He flexes his fingers when he draws back. “London. You own Natural Glow, correct?”
“I do.” I head into the restaurant. I’m only here for Diana. My appetite is gone. My appetite has been gone all week.
We’re seated at a table by the window and unease filters through my gut. After getting photographed in public with Jacobi, I don’t like sitting out in the open.
“How is work going today?” Roland asks, unfolding his cloth napkin, giving it a snap, and laying it across his lap.
He never used to irritate me so much, but today I can’t stand the guy and all he did was greet me and handle his napkin. But it’s the tone of his question, with subtle undercurrents of dismissal. Like running a health and beauty product company doesn’t take much work.
Diana smiles, her eyes warming. She’s not bothered at all. “Work has been good. London’s back with a force.”
“Oh, were you out for a while?” Danielson asks.
“I was on vacation,” I say lightly. Has Roland told him anything? I should’ve found out what exactly Diana shared with her beau. “Then out for personal leave.”
Redeemed: Ruined and Redeemed Duet - Book 2 Page 13