Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys

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Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys Page 154

by M. S. Parker

Hard.

  “Alright. That’s it.” Ryan muscled between us and shoved me back.

  I went willingly, not bothering to reach up and touch my stinging cheek. I just stared at Carly, unable to believe what she’d done. Not that I thought she hadn’t been capable of it, but that it finally happened.

  “You want to tell me what that was about?” Ryan asked.

  She sniffed. “Yes.” Her voice cracked. “It’s because...” The words were more sobs than anything else now. “He’s a...he’s...a...a...fucking ass!” She took off as soon as she shouted the last two words.

  Ryan blew out a breath and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before glancing at me. “Are you going after her? Or am I?”

  “Yeah, it really looks like she wants to talk to me.” I gestured to my cheek.

  Ryan sighed and shook his head. “You don’t know shit about women.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “If I may point your attention...”

  The voice droned on and on. I was pretty sure that if I had to continue sitting here listening to him for much longer, I’d fall asleep.

  And then...

  “This particular clause affects one Robert E. Cantrell.”

  “Bobby,” I corrected automatically, jerking my head up. The lawyer didn’t look happy to have been interrupted and I grinned at him. It wasn’t a nice grin though. I wasn’t happy he’d interrupted my near nap.

  Mr. Theodore S. Edelson cleared his throat. “Yes, shall we?” And then he continued on to the clause that affected me, Robert E. Cantrell.

  “I bequeath my house, located at...”

  My head started to roar.

  “And the entirety of its contents, including the library, the shed and its contents, and my car, a 1964 Mustang.”

  The weird banging noise I heard had to be my jaw as it hit the floor.

  The lawyer droned on.

  Or he would have, but I finally stuttered out, “Stop.”

  “Mr. Cantrell, that’s your bequest, in its entirety.”

  “He can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “He couldn’t have left me all of that. His house? His car? I just wanted a couple of books!”

  “Sir, I assure you, there is nothing else–”

  Next to me, Ryan started to chuckle. Carly, after a second, giggled. It was the first time I’d heard her laugh in ages.

  “I think you got the books, man,” Ryan said, and then he started to laugh.

  I glared at all of them. “This isn’t funny! He left me a house! What am I going to do with a house? And his car? Was he crazy?”

  Carly laughed harder.

  Ryan struggled to get it under control.

  “This isn’t funny.” My face burned. Everyone was staring at me, their expressions ranged from amused to pissed. Carly was the former, Ridley the latter.

  Cameo – the newest addition to the crew, and the only woman – rolled her eyes at me. “Robert, you’d think he’d given you a case of syphilis, not a house and an awesome car.”

  “Bobby,” I said.

  She lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. It was clear she was still feeling everyone out. “I don’t see what the problem is. If I’d been left a house, I’d be doing backflips.”

  Carly was almost crying now. No...check that. She was crying.

  Ryan started toward her, but I beat him there.

  I didn’t know what drove me – or at least didn’t want to admit what it was – but I caught her in my arms just as her legs gave out. I sat and eased her into my lap. We ended up on the couch, and at first she pushed me away, shoved at me. I didn’t move, knowing that if she’d truly wanted me away, Ryan would’ve intervened. Then, finally, she clung to me. My chest tightened as she pressed her face into it, her sobs tearing at my heart.

  “He’s gone, Bobby. He’s really gone.”

  I stroked her hair and murmured her name. I didn’t say anything else though. What could I say? She’d lost a man who’d essentially been her only parent, and I knew all too well the hole that left behind. The best I could offer her wasn’t much, but it was all I had.

  * * *

  “I understand you’ve recently come into a sizable, well, inheritance?”

  I met the dark, sharp eyes of Julia Espinosa. When I’d moved to California, the first order of business had been meeting with my new parole officer. An ex-convict out on parole has a shitload of rules to follow to keep from being sent back to prison. Detoine had been fine with the request to move, but I knew a lot of that had been thanks to Carly, Ryan and Jake. I didn’t, however, get to go without a PO at all. So, I’d ended up with the slightly scary Espinosa tugging my leash.

  As she waited for my answer, I resisted the urge to slump in the chair and act like a horse’s ass. Instead, I jerked a shoulder and said, “Jake left me his house.”

  “And a car, if I understand right.” She folded her hands on her desk, pinning me with a look. “Why would he do that?”

  That was easy to answer. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure that out myself.”

  Something that might have been a smile flickered across her eyes for the briefest moment. It was gone just as fast as it came. She flipped open a folder and withdrew something, studying it with pursed lips before turning it face down on her military neat desk.

  “Tell me about the letters.”

  I was going to kill Max. Or possibly Ryan.

  “Don’t lie, either,” she warned. “That will get you in some serious trouble, Bobby. I find myself liking you. Don’t make me not like you by lying to me, and causing us both grief.”

  “I don’t see why the letters are any concern of yours,” I said. Even I heard the fuck off in my voice. Not the best idea, but I couldn’t seem to stop it.

  “Your general well-being is a concern of mine.” She picked up the top paper and held it out to me. It was a copy of the letters I’d shown Ryan the other day. “This sounds like a threat to me. Can you say otherwise?”

  A life for a life...

  The words mocked me.

  “Somebody is just being an asshole,” I said.

  “It’s possible,” Julia said after a moment. She picked up a pen and started to tap it on the arm of her chair as she studied me. “You know, a few years ago, people could probably say you were an asshole. Then you went and did something decent, and another asshole came after you. The two of you fought, and you killed him. Probably before he could kill you–”

  “Probably?” I cut her off. Sweat gathered at the base of my spine and neck while my hands bunched into fists, but I managed not to growl. “I can guarantee you that Derrell Mitchell wasn’t looking to discuss the merits of our continued employment with a drug dealer, Ms. Espinosa.”

  “I imagine he wasn’t.” She tapped the pen harder. “As I was saying, the two of you fought. He’s dead. You’re not. While there were extenuating circumstances, a lot of this started because you were an asshole. Since then, it seems like you decided there were other things you could be besides an asshole, but if anybody knows what things a person is capable of, it should be you.”

  A dull, heavy weight formed in the pit of my stomach.

  When I didn’t say anything, she tossed the pen on her desk and leaned forward. “I’m not going to claim any major insight on these notes, Bobby, but I don’t like them. They make me itchy. I know your boss doesn’t like them either, does he?”

  Technically, I could argue that Carly was my boss, but in the end, it was Ryan who handled everything now that Jake was gone.

  And both of us didn’t like anything about this.

  It had taken determination to track me down, even if it had only been done via Carly’s agent. And whoever this was hadn’t done it just once. He kept sending the notes. There weren’t any prints. The postmarks all varied. Lexington, DC, Nashville, Detroit. He wasn’t stupid, which meant he was even more dangerous.

  “What exactly do you want me to say?” Instead of looking at her, I stared at one of the framed prints on Es
pinosa’s wall. Her office was a lot nicer than Detoine’s had been. “You want to hear that whoever this asshole is has gotten under my skin? All right. He has.”

  “I hope he has. He’s sending notes to Ms. Prince, too, if I recall correctly.”

  I sighed. I really didn’t like the polite dance she did. Even though I appreciated her not treating me like shit, I preferred people just coming out and saying what they meant.

  Especially when I already had enough shit to deal with.

  “Why don’t you just get to whatever point you’re trying to make?”

  Julia sighed this time. Then, catching me completely by surprise, she tugged her glasses off and put them on the desk. She looked younger without them, and I realized, with a start, that she was pretty. Not that it mattered. Even if I wasn’t already lost over Carly, and even if I was stupid enough to feel some tug of attraction to a woman who held that much control over me, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to even attempt to flirt with Julia. She’d slice my balls off and hand them to me.

  Of course, I thought, so could Carly. Maybe I was more of an idiot than I realized.

  She glanced up at me, and as though she’d followed my line of thinking, she frowned. “You’re enough to give a woman a headache, you know that?”

  I managed not to smile. “I’ve been told that.”

  “Hmmm.” She nodded slowly. “I bet you have.”

  I shrugged. I could bullshit over this a lot easier than I could bullshit over other things, at least with Julia. “You don’t really see Carly as somebody who stands with a lot of formality, do you?”

  “I couldn’t say.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never met her, and I grew up in this town. I’m not dazzled by the stars. And I don’t follow any of the gossip rags either.”

  Normally, I would’ve agreed with her on all points. It wasn’t any kind of star that dazzled me. It was just Carly. But there was nothing ‘just’ about Carly.

  “Well, trust me. She’s not big on formality. If I called her anything but Carly, she wouldn’t much like it.”

  I couldn’t tell if Julia bought the casual routine or not.

  “There’s a lot of speculation about the two of you.”

  Giving her a partial smile, I asked, “How would you know about any of that bullshit if you don’t follow that sort of thing?”

  “Because I’ve got plenty of co-workers who do follow that sort of thing,” she replied, her tone wry. “Any of the bullshit out there on the money?”

  “Well, PEOPLE reported that Carly Prince has a convicted killer working for her. I cannot tell a lie. They are right.” I paused and then added in a deadpan voice, “It’s a shame about Ryan, really.”

  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t seem to be truly annoyed. “You’re cute, Bobby.”

  “So they tell me.” A look at the clock on her wall told me I still had a good ten minutes in here. “What else do you need to know, Ms. Espinosa? I’m being a good boy. I’ve kept my nose clean, and even if people try to pick a fight with me, I keep out of trouble. I’m taking online college courses.” Then I snorted and added, “For all the good they’ll do me. I’ll end up with a masters in business in a year or two and still, people won’t want anything to do with me.”

  “Apparently Carly Prince does. Ryan Harmon has nothing but praise for you. Most of your co-workers couldn’t speak any more highly of you.” She paused and then added, “Although it seems a Mr. Ridley doesn’t care for you. He claims we should ship you back to Kentucky so they can lock your ‘redneck ass back up.’”

  She managed to get Ridley’s Bronx accent right on key.

  Smirking, I asked, “Is that all he had to say?”

  “My point is, you have a number of people who think you have a lot to offer society. You’re working in personal security, and that’s a fair amount of trust for a man with your background.” Julia watched me.

  She had an unnerving way about her. Worse than a lawyer, just as bad as a cop. Since I didn’t know what she wanted me to say, I said nothing.

  A faint exhalation escaped her. She was pushing for something, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. A few more seconds passed, and then she placed something in front of me.

  The words made sense in a disjointed sort of way. I recognized the font, the style of writing.

  Except this one wasn’t directed at me.

  You know his secrets. You still support him. That makes you equally guilty.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I spent the time driving back to the estate to pull my temper under control.

  While I’d been behind bars, I’d been required to take all kinds of anger management courses, one of which had been about healthy ways of expressing anger.

  When I got home, I knew I had to use one of those healthy ways while Carly was at one of her spa things, or I’d be expressing myself in a decidedly unhealthy manner by the time she got back. Fortunately for me, I didn’t encounter any of the other guys on my way to the gym, or I might’ve done something stupid.

  A hundred laps in the pool didn’t do a thing, so I tried for two hundred, trying to lose myself in the rhythm of my arms cutting through the water. By the time I finished, I was a worn-out, exhausted mess, but still the fury and fear had me in knots, so I leaned against the side of the pool and let my muscles rest for a while before dragging myself to my feet.

  I toweled off and switched to a pair of dry shorts. I didn’t bother with a shower, not when I planned on sweating off the chlorine in the state-of-the-art weight room Carly had put in. I’d never seen anything like it until I’d come here, but I’d almost gotten used to it.

  Forty-five minutes on the weights didn’t wash that note from my mind, and I had to accept that nothing was going to do it. After wiping down the station, I went to the sauna where I sat down and put my face in my hands, my heart a heavy, black knot.

  Whoever he was, he was threatening Carly now, and I no longer cared whether or not they were empty words or a true threat. I could blow off whatever this asshole sent toward me. Bringing Carly into it...that was unforgivable.

  I wanted to break something.

  Tear something.

  Destroy something.

  Except I’d already done that, and it was the reason Carly was in danger to begin with.

  Leave.

  The answer was a soft, gentle voice in the back of my mind. I didn’t want to, but I thought maybe that was exactly what I needed to do. I even had a place to go now. I could go to the house Jake left me and figure out what to do next. I had money now. Since I didn’t really have a lot of bills to pay or anything, I could get by okay as I tried to find something new.

  Here, hopefully. I didn’t want to go back to Kentucky. There was nothing waiting for me there, nothing to go back to.

  If I was lucky, I could get a job as a mechanic out here. That might pay halfway decent, and since I had a car of my own, and a place, my cost of living wouldn’t have to be sky-high. I knew how to live on a small budget, despite how damn expensive it was to live here.

  A noise caught my attention and I looked up. The sight of Ridley moving across the gym, just beyond the sauna doors, had my lip curling. Something about him just rubbed me the wrong way. I started to stand up and the room spun. Slapping a hand against the heated wood, I steadied myself. How long had I been in there?

  No telling. I’d lost track of time.

  I opened the door and stepped out, taking my time with it as Ridley’s gaze swung toward me. I gave him a level look as I moved over to the nearby refrigerator. He said nothing. Neither did I. I grabbed a bottle of water and downed it. I was still thirsty, and my head was starting to pound. The lightheaded feeling hadn’t gone away either, but I’d gone hungry more than once in my life. I knew how to handle being dizzy. I’d just spent too much time in the dry heat, so as long as I moved slow, I’d be fine.

  I was nearly to the door when Ridley finally spoke, “Your parole officer has been talking to everybody. Guess she does
n’t like how your meetings are going if she’s checking up on you. How much longer until she sends your hillbilly ass back to Kentucky, Bobby-boy?”

  In response, I flipped him off over my shoulder. Not exactly mature, I knew, but it was better than what I really wanted to do.

  He chuckled. “I guess today didn’t go that well for you, did it? Not surprising though. You may’ve had Jake fooled, but I knew the rest of us would start to see through you soon enough.”

  Ignoring him, I moved through the door. I needed to get some food in my belly, and I needed to think. One thing was certain. The exertion and the overlong stint in the sauna had done precisely what I’d wanted. The temper had drained out of me.

  Yeah, Carly had kept her letters from me and I was still pissed about that, but maybe what I needed to do was clear out. Get some space.

  * * *

  The knock at my door came late.

  I couldn’t say I was surprised by it. Normally, most of us gathered in the estate’s kitchen to eat dinner, but that time had come and gone, and I hadn’t left my little house. My suitcases were spread out across my room. The clothes I’d paid for with my own money were packed.

  The rest of them – and that was the majority – were neatly folded or left hanging in the closet.

  The knock came a second time, and I ignored it a second time. But after the third knock, I moved through the maze of suitcases and boxes I’d accumulated over the past few months, and made my way to the living room.

  I yanked the door open just as Ryan started to knock a fourth time. “What?”

  “You know,” he said, speaking with deliberate slowness. “When you’re home, it’s considered polite to answer the door.”

  “I’m not polite. Deal with it.” I tried to shut the door, but Ryan slammed a hand against it.

  I sighed and stepped aside. I didn’t see the point in fighting with him. It would save me the trouble of hunting him down tomorrow. I’d rather tell him than Carly anyway. He looked surprised at my easy capitulation, his expression wary as he came inside.

 

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