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Grit & Glamour (Sins & Riches Book 1)

Page 5

by Cece Rose


  “Yeah, I am,” I answer, placing my hand over the door handle before adding, “He's not going to kill Theo, is he?”

  “Not if he's innocent,” Three answers plainly.

  “You make it sound so black and white, so simple,” I reply, nervously darting my gaze to where One is waiting for me outside of the car.

  “Sometimes it is.” He turns back around, not saying anything more. Taking my cue, I get out of the car and walk over to One, hearing the car immediately pull away behind me.

  “Are you ready for this?” One asks me as I reach him. I keep walking, and he falls into pace with me as we head towards the main entrance to the building.

  “Of course I am,” I answer. Another lie. I offer the security guard a bright smile as we approach, and even that feels like yet another. One leans down, and I fight all my instincts telling me to pull away, for fear of drawing unwanted attention to ourselves when we're this close to the guard.

  “You're a beautiful liar, Scarlett. But you're not nearly as good as you think,” he whispers softly, and then he straightens back up and looks ahead as if he'd never spoken at all.

  One stares at the back of my head as we rise in one of the building's four lifts. I watch him watching me in the reflection on the shiny, metallic doors. The floors tick by as we stand in complete silence. Tension crackles in the air between us, and it only gets worse the higher we go.

  The lift dings, and the doors slide open, revealing the flat that takes up the entire top floor of the building. I glance idly over the place. There's no real character, but I must admit it's pretty modern and sleek. The decor is almost exclusively all black, white, or chrome, and the furniture itself is all block-like shapes and sharp corners. Whoever decorated this place, and I’m almost certain that person wasn’t Theo, clearly took the idea of modern, funky, and minimalistic and ran with it. It also looks as if nobody thought to tell them when to stop either.

  When we’d first stepped into the lift and One saw the keypad for the code required to access Theo’s floor, several colourful curses flew from his mouth. Luckily, I still remembered the code to get up here from my last visit, and I'd tapped it in before One could complain further. It's probably a good thing I remembered it, otherwise I would have had to call Theo to request he let us up. For some reason, I doubt the assassins would be too thrilled with that plan.

  “Who is it?” Theo's voice calls from somewhere in the large, well large for London, dwelling.

  “It's me,” I call back, before One can answer or stop me from doing so. I turn to stare out of the huge window that takes up the entire wall in this part of the home, other than the set of glass doors leading out onto the balcony anyway. The view from which I know is beautiful at night. “Scarlett,” I add in a shout when he doesn’t respond, just in case he didn’t recognise my voice.

  “Scar?” he yells back in a bewildered tone. “How the hell did you get up here?”

  “I’ve been here before, remember!” I reply, matching his volume and looking around, trying to discern just where his voice is coming from. I don't have to look for long, as Theo steps out from a door at the end of the corridor that sits to the side of the large, open-planned living area. Down that hall I know are at least two bathrooms, and I assume some bedrooms—not that I’ve been in them. There's a shorter corridor to the other side of the living area too, which I know leads to an office and another bathroom.

  I smile nervously as he approaches, my eyes running over him in appreciation. He'd strolled into the room without a shirt, and it's a sight few would complain about seeing. Dark skin, darker hair, and the bluest damned eyes I've ever seen. Tattoos are scattered across his skin, and I notice a new one on his left forearm. A dragon. I grin as I recognise it. Some things never change.

  “What the fuck happened to your face?” Theo growls. I jerk from surprise, my hands flying to my face unconsciously. “Did you do this to her?” Theo demands, rounding on One, whom I think he’s only just noticed standing beside me. Shit.

  “What if I did?” One counters, his tone calm and brow raised. He straightens up and somehow manages to tower over a guy that’s just under six foot. Theo, however, doesn’t balk at the challenge.

  “Did you fucking do that to her?” Theo repeats, his tone strained from fury. I notice his hands balling into fists at his side.

  “He didn’t do it, Theo,” I interject, but he ignores me.

  “Okay, listen up. You’re going to stop fucking smirking at me, man, or I am going to knock it right off your face. You understand me?” Theo continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “Now tell me, did you hit her? Because if she’s too scared to speak the truth to me because of you, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

  “If I ever decided to hurt her, you’d never see her again in order for her to tell you.” One’s response is deliberate and meant to bait a reaction. He doesn’t move as Theo lunges forward, fists flying. I stand there, staring in shocked silence as Theo’s right fist connects with the palm of One’s suddenly open and waiting hand.

  He grabs Theo’s arm and twists it, pulling it behind his back as he does so. A groan of pain escapes Theo, but stupidly, he decides the best thing to do is to make things worse. He pulls out a knife from god only knows where with his free left hand and slashes it in One’s general direction.

  “Theo!” I snap, grabbing his attention only for a second, before One decides to chuckle. The sound of his laughter seems to enrage Theo further, and he turns back to him.

  “One! Cut it out, let go of his arm, and stop goading him. You said you wanted answers, not to come and fuck with my friend just because your ass is so sore after getting fucked by one of your so-called friends.”

  “The issue with our transaction was on your end, Scarlett. Not mine.” One glares at me, almost challenging me to keep arguing with him over it. I choose not to and turn my focus back on Theo.

  He seems to have calmed down, apparently no longer concerned I have somehow become a poor, abused girlfriend or something to some asshole since we last saw each other. He is, however, looking confused and more than a little embarrassed.

  “What’s going on here?” he asks, looking between me and One as he dusts himself off and stands back up. My eyes flick to the knife he still holds at his side, pressing close to his leg, as if he’s trying not to draw attention to the fact he still has it.

  “I’m the one asking the questions,” One responds with a smirk.

  “I think not,” Theo says, waving the knife about. It appears he’s somehow managed to block out the fact he just got his ass handed to him. But I’m sure his right arm is hurting way too much for that to be the case.

  “How about I ask the questions?” I intercede, trying to stave off another altercation and praying One will just roll with it. For the sake of us all making it out of here without killing each other, at least.

  “Fine,” One concedes. “Ask him what he knows about the laptop.”

  “The laptop?” Theo echoes, his eyes meeting mine in a panicked exchange. He definitely remembers the unusual favour I’d asked for. He may be a drug dealer, but Theo’s interests and talents have always been with computers. He was the only person I trusted enough to ask for help, and he had, without question. “I don’t know anything about a laptop,” Theo lies, misreading the worry in my eyes as fear of my secret being found out.

  “The laptop I asked you to get for me,” I encourage, nodding my head. “It’s okay. I need you to tell One everything you know about the laptop.”

  “Are you sure, Scar?” he asks, giving a dubious look at One.

  “I’m sure,” I confirm.

  “Well, you asked me for a laptop, and I got you one. What more is there to tell?” He shrugs, still clearly unsure about divulging information to this stranger with me.

  “What was the laptop for?” One demands, finished with allowing me to pretend to be the questioner. Theo looks at me again, and I sigh.

  “Just tell him everything, Theo. Please,” I
plead. He nods and turns back to One.

  “I don’t know what the laptop was for, she didn’t tell me. She wanted to be able to get onto certain parts of the internet untraced. I figured it was sketchy, but she’s not a bad person, so I did it. End of story.”

  “Not quite. See, just because Scarlett here didn’t tell you what she was planning to do, doesn’t mean that you’re too stupid to figure it out. I’m not insinuating that you’re a cunning detective by any means, but if you’re close, surely you had an idea of what she might use it for?” One questions.

  “Suspicions. Nothing concrete. Why do you care so much?” Theo asks. I notice his grip tightening on the knife in his hand and press my lips together to keep from speaking out. He’s not likely to put the knife down because I asked him too.

  “Scarlett hired me to fix a problem. I’m sure you already figured that out though, or you wouldn’t still be holding onto the knife after it was established that I didn’t leave the mark on her face.” One steps towards Theo, the knife in question not much of a deterrent.

  “And I’m sure I’m not her problem, so what are you doing here?” Theo asks in a confident tone. However, when One takes another step closer, his body jerks as if he started to take a step back, but he catches himself.

  “Who did you tell about the laptop—about Scarlett’s plan?” One asks in an icy tone.

  “Nobody. Why would I grass on my friend for no reason? I wouldn’t.” He turns to me. “Scar, I didn’t tell anyone, anything. You believe me, right?”

  “Of course,” I answer without hesitation. “But it’s him that needs convincing.”

  “Why—what happened? I don’t understand why you’d ever even have to meet this guy in person?” Theo asks, sounding more confused the longer he thinks about it.

  “She’s still alive. They were set up. They think you did it—probably for money,” I explain, hoping to speed things along by doing so. The sooner One sees how clueless Theo is about all this, the sooner I can get my brother and bail on this shit-show of a life and start a new one somewhere else. Somewhere she’ll never find us.

  “I would never betray Scarlett like that,” Theo snarls at One, sounding insulted.

  “Why should I believe that?” One asks, the question sounding oddly genuine.

  “What would I have to gain from it? Look around you, man. Does it look like I need the money? Am I that desperate for the cash I’d betray one of the very few people in the world I trust?” Theo shoots back, affronted.

  One looks between the two of us and curses. “Fuck.”

  “What’s wrong now?” Theo complains, making a semi-threatening gesture with his knife in One’s direction.

  “He believes you, but he doesn’t want to,” I answer before One can. He gives me an icy look that only confirms my theory.

  “He could still be lying. He might be an even better liar than you are, Princess,” he responds in snarky tone.

  “Well, can you decide whether I’m lying or not without me present? I’ve got work to do,” Theo announces.

  “You’re not going anywhere. Have someone else handle it. A place like this, I’m sure you have plenty of people capable of handling your shit for you.”

  “This customer is extra special, I need to do it personally.”

  “Not going to happen.” One crosses his arms across his chest and looks down at Theo like he’s a misbehaving child.

  “If I don’t bring this shit over to BM’s personally by two o’clock, he’ll have me shot. He’s the kind of man that’s easily insulted, if you know what I mean. So I don’t give a flying fuck what you say is going to happen, I’m putting on a shirt, and then I’m leaving.” As if to make his point, he turns away from One and takes a few steps.

  “You can’t drive with your arm like that even if you want to,” One comments offhandedly, and Theo pauses and slams the knife down onto a side table he was passing.

  “I got another hand left. I’ll survive,” Theo mutters, stalking off back to the door he’d originally come out of.

  “He sounded serious about the guy shooting him,” I point out, turning to face One.

  “That’s hardly my problem,” One deflects, stepping towards the window and looking out of it at the city sprawled out around us.

  “It is if you’re still insisting Theo knows something,” I retort.

  “If we took him back with us, this ‘BM’ person would never find him. Nobody will ever find him again if that’s what I want.” He pulls out his phone and responds to a text message, before locking the screen again. He keeps the old, clunky-looking phone in his hand though, as if he’s expecting a quick response.

  “What if we go with him? He can’t drive anyway, like you said. We go, I’ll drive, he sells the drugs, we leave, and then you can take longer to decide whether he’s innocent or not if that’s really what you need to do,” I offer, widening my eyes and looking at him imploringly.

  Above puppy eyes and pouting, I am not. Though I am sceptical of its general effectiveness against an assassin. Though, thus far, sarcasm and snappiness hadn’t gotten me far. Perhaps it is time to try another approach, sugar rather than vinegar. I could be sweet. Maybe... “Please. He’s not to blame, One. I know you’re smart enough to already realise that, but if you need more time to be certain, take it. Just don’t let an innocent guy get shot up by some asshole with a dumb name like BM because of it.”

  He smirks, and then presses his lips together, as if smothering the smile. Like it escaped without permission and he’d quenched it the second he’d realised. I grin. Victory tastes sweet.

  “I have strong doubts that your drug dealing friend is an innocent man, but I’ll roll with it. A dead man can’t talk, and besides, holding three of you in the safe house would be a pain,” One agrees finally.

  “Roll with what?” Theo asks.

  “We’re coming with you. To keep an eye on you while he decides if you’re innocent,” I answer quickly, not giving One a chance to change his mind.

  “You’re not coming,” Theo exclaims, sounding alarmed.

  “Either we’re coming, or you’re not going,” One extends the ultimatum without affording him an inch of room for debate. Theo glances between us and sighs.

  “Right then, we’re taking my car.”

  “I’m driving!” I cut in, earning a curious look from One. I shrug. When he sees the car, whichever one it is we’re using, he’ll understand why I opted to drive. Theo has great taste.

  “Text the address of our destination to this contact,” One says, holding out a cheap-looking phone to Theo, with the messages already open on a draft to a contact titled J. Theo takes the phone and taps in an address.

  “I’ve just got one more question before we leave,” Theo begins as he hands the phone back to One. “I just need to know this one thing,” he states, with a serious expression on his face. When nobody objects, he continues, “What the hell kind of name is One?”

  Chapter Nine

  An annoying, standard-set ringtone blares out from the car’s speakers. I cast a glance at Theo in the review mirror and notice that he’s looking particularly glum about being shoved into the back of his own car. Thankfully, he’d been smart enough not to argue when One had slid into the front passenger seat, though.

  “Your phone’s ringing,” I inform him when he doesn’t answer it, as if he could have missed it. The annoying tone is simply too loud and too irritating for anyone to overlook. It would make the perfect tone for an alarm clock.

  “It’s BM,” Theo says, as if that alone explains everything.

  “Shouldn’t you answer that if that’s where we’re going—what if it’s important?” One asks, though he doesn’t turn to look at either of us, just continues staring out of the window while I drive. Not that there’s much of a view, thanks to the rain and grey skies. This area of London doesn’t look so hot either.

  “He’s a bit much to handle,” Theo defends, sounding disgruntled.

  “Answer th
e phone, or I’ll have to assume you’re hiding something from me. And keep the Bluetooth connected, I want to hear both sides of the conversation,” One commands. The man seems happy to issue orders to absolutely anyone at any time.

  “I warned you,” Theo mutters, and then clicks to answer the call.

  “Alright, mate?” a loud male voice greets through the phone.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Theo returns, and I can’t help but notice an uncertainty in his voice.

  “How far away are you? I’ve got bare heads coming tonight, and I need that shit,” BM answers, an urgency ringing in his tone as he mentions what he needs. I roll my eyes and try to turn my focus back to the road as we come up to a turn. I spare a look down at the satnav to check if we need to take it and then glance back up.

  One turns as I do, catching my attention, so I glance at him. He sees me looking and mouths, ‘Bare heads?’ at me. I smother a laugh, not wanting to annoy Theo while he’s on the phone. Maybe the killer has a sense of humour at least.

  “Nearly there, man. I got you,” Theo grinds out, I look in the mirror again. He seems pissed as hell. I lick my lips, trying to settle my nerves, and turn back to the road as I indicate and then take the left turn per the satnav’s instructions.

  “Wicked, man. I’ll see you.” BM hangs up the call.

  “Wicked?” I parrot, trying not to cringe.

  “Shut up, Scar. Not everyone talks like the twats we went to school with. Correction, the twats you still go to school with.”

  “Only two weeks left of sixth-form,” I remind Theo, ignoring his comment about shutting up. Not that I intend to show up for those last two weeks anymore.

  “This is cute and all, but any chance we could keep this professional until I decide whether to kill you or not?” One asks casually.

 

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