The Arrangement 15 Read online

  "Any time." I put my hand on his shoulder and he looks down at it and then back up at me.

  We stay like that for a second, until the uncertain moment passes. Suddenly, he's the man he was yesterday, before last night happened. "So, tomorrow's here. It's time to face the day, your insane boss, an assassin, and your sadistic ex. What do you have in mind, because I know there's no way in hell you're going to wait for Sean to tell you what to do?"

  A grin slowly spreads across my face. "You know me so well."

  CHAPTER 10

  After I tell him what I want to do, Trystan protests. "There's no way you should do that, Avery. Let me go."

  "Yeah, the rock star should just show up at Henry Thomas's house and ask if he's been trying to shoot me. Good plan." I roll my eyes.

  "Avery, dear, I mean this in the kindest way possible, but how are you still alive?" Trystan is dressed with a faded t-shirt and a worn flannel shirt on top, coupled with a pair of ripped jeans and his Chucks. I have to admit that he's easy on the eyes. He leans back against the chair and winces. We're sitting in his old kitchen. There's dust everywhere.

  "What?"

  "You zealously used your nails on my back. It looks like I was mauled by a bear." My face flames red and I lunge at him to slap him. Trystan laughs. "Holy shit! You blush? You're a call girl, how are you still blushing when a guy mentions sex?"

  We've been sitting at this little table in the horrible home he grew up in. It's horrible because I know this place is haunted for him, but he won't let us leave until the plan is revised. I swipe at him and miss. Trystan pulls his arm away, chuckling, "Easy there, Call Girl. I have enough marks on me to remember you by."

  "Jerk."

  "Don't do it if you can't talk about it later."

  "So says the man who may or may not have slept with me last night." I roll my eyes. Again.

  "No, I definitely slept with you. I remember pressing your knee into your chest at one point, but you were still dressed, sort of." He smiles wolfishly and I know he's teasing me, trying to see how red I can turn. "I'm not sure when the clothes came off or what you did with my boxers. They're MIA."

  My jaw drops! "You're going commando?"

  "Not by choice, Call Girl. For all I know you ate them." He laughs and I lunge at him again. This time I knock his elbow and he tips back in his chair. The motion almost knocks him over, but he rights himself at the last second.

  "Nice move, Catwoman."

  "You know I like pussy."

  I make a face at him. "You did not just say that. That's something that Jon would say, not you."

  "Why? Because it lacked eloquence? All men want it, Avery. You should know that by now. Love songs, at their core, are only interested in getting into your core." He's still smiling widely and I can't tell if he's serious or teasing me.

  I blink twice. "Where's the Trystan I know, because this version is a little too honest for me."

  "Honesty is what makes a person. At the end of his life it's one of the things people remember. Your legacy isn't left by fame or fortune. It's left by the footprints of compassion and honesty." He has no idea how astute he is, or how alluring his words are—they're so profoundly simple, modest, and perfect. No wonder why everyone loves him. Well, everyone except Sean.

  "There he is, the real Trystan Scott. Okay, now that I have the normal version of you back, tell me what we should do or I'm out the door."

  His dark brows furrow as his lips press together. Finally, he mutters, "You're so stubborn."

  "The word you're looking for is stupid." I bat my eyelashes at him and toss my hair over my shoulder for emphasis. Trystan doesn't react. He sits there with a stern, Sean-like disapproving expression. "I can't hide forever."

  "You shouldn't have to, but wait for Sean to find out. You said he'd know shortly." Trystan tips back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "Let him do it."

  "You don't know what he traded."

  Trystan leans forward and the chair goes with him, the first two legs slamming down on the floor. "I have an idea, but I don't really understand why you care. You left him, didn't you?"

  "I…" I didn't want to. I wanted him to come after me, to chase me, and convince me that we belong together, but he didn't. Instead, Sean promised he was leaving and I wasn't going with him. He'll return to his fake fiancée in California and I'll stay here and be Miss Black's pawn for whatever the hell she wants on Long Island. "…don't want to talk about it."

  He puts his hands up, palms toward me. "Fine by me."

  "So, then let's go."

  "All right, but I'm coming with you."

  I sigh as I pick up my purse and make my way to the door. "Trystan we've already been over this. I have to talk to him alone."

  "Yeah, not happening."

  I turn and wave a finger in his face. "Don't make me call Gabe."

  "Gabe is already outside if the guy is any good at his job." Trystan sighs and finally caves. "Fine, but you only have five minutes. Then I'm coming in."

  "I can take care of myself." I think about the pilot and a cold feeling grips my chest. It freezes me to the core and makes me feel sick. The scene replays in my head until there is blood spilling across the floor, creeping toward me like the monster I've become.

  "I believe you." His voice drops like he knows I've done something I shouldn't have. He watches too closely, and sees too much. It makes me uncomfortable.

  I turn quickly so those knowing eyes can't read mine. "Great, then let's go."

  _____

  The deal had been for Trystan to drive me to Henry's and then wait in the car, but along the way, we stop and pick up a guy who looks like he ate a pickup truck. Trystan's bodyguard is all muscle. He doesn't speak or look at me. He just sits there, way too big for the space in the back of Trystan's limo, with his dark arms folded over his massive chest. Each bicep is the size of a bowling ball. Damn, the man is huge.

  He glances at me with a look that could kill. Black eyes narrow in on me and when he finally speaks, his voice is way deeper than I'd thought. "This is idiotic."

  "Wow, do you always talk to Trystan's friends that way?" Okay, that sounded bitchy, even to me.

  It doesn't faze him. "I only speak to Trystan's friends that way. You should have listened to Ferro."

  I glance at Trystan and give him a death look. "You told him?"

  Trystan is slumped back into the seat across from me. It showcases his age. I forget that Sean is older. Trystan has a lazy confidence that speaks volumes. It says he's doing what he thinks is best and that I'm a moron.

  Jabbing his thumb at the bodyguard, Trystan explains, "I had to tell him. As it is, he wanted to kill me for disappearing last night and not telling them. If I get shot, they don't get paid. It's the ultimate job failure when you're in his profession. Hence, the irritation at your impending idiocy." Trystan offers a crooked grin.

  I want to punch him. "So what would you do, Muscle Man? Crack Henry Thomas like a crab leg and toss him into the bay?"

  "That's one way to find out, however sublety is more desirable in this situation. What if my boy is seen with you and caught up in this mess? Did you think of him at all before you dragged him into this with you?" Holy shit, he's scolding me? Trystan sits there, bright blue eyes sparkling, trying not to laugh. My mouth opens to defend myself, but the guy doesn't stop. "And another thing, what the fuck do you think is going to happen here? You really think you can march up to this guy's front door and he'll just tell you that he's been trying to put a bullet in your head? Things don't work that way princess, wake up."

  I blink at him. "Are you done?"

  "No." But the man doesn't add anything else.

  When he doesn't speak, I say, "I'll be able to tell."

  "Uh-uh." The big man looks out the window, not even asking me to elaborate.

  "I know this guy."

  "Yeah, as if your gut instinct is perfect." The guy practically growls at me.

  My eyes flick to Trystan. "What'
s he talking about?"

  "Miss Black," Trystan replies.

  "You told him that too!"

  "No, he already knew." Trystan and I look at the bodyguard with questions in our eyes. "I like how no one calls her by her first name."

  The big man visibly shivers and works his jaw before he can manage to spit some words out. "It's because her first name is Satan. Do you know how many men I've worked with that have been lured away by her? Let's just say that I've heard stories and no amount of money could make me consider working for her."

  I'm not sure if he's talking about being a bodyguard or not. The guy is majorly creeped out and I'm not sure why. "You wouldn't be a bodyguard for one of her girls?"

  The man looks over at me and laughs. He shakes his bald head and then looks at Trystan, and then back to me. "You have no idea what kind of shit you've stepped in, do you? You think she's just a madam? If you don't learn to read between the lines, she'll kill you—never mind this idiot who missed."

  My skin covers in bumps as a chill washes over me. When I don't speak, Trystan asks, "What else does she do?"

  But the bodyguard shakes his head. "The less you know, the better. Just stay the fuck away from Black and her girls."

  "So, stashing one of Black's girls who might be wanted for murder is probably bad then, huh?" Trystan gives the guy a half smile.

  "Shit, Scott. Tell me you didn't have anything to do with it." The big man seems like he's ready to pounce on Trystan. His eyes are flamethrowers and his words are short and threatening.

  "I didn't kill the hooker at the hotel, and I wasn't at the hotel, but I was at the strip club when this girl and her friend wandered in after the fact. Bob, don't act like that. It's nothing, and Mel didn't do it anyway. All of this sounds like a set up to get at Avery."

  I can't help it, I giggle. "Bob! Your name is Bob?"

  The muscle man turns on me and the laughter runs and hides. The smile runs from my lips and falls to the bottom of the bay. Bob doesn't respond. He looks out the window, thinking, until we pull up a block from the Thomas house.

  The car stops and Trystan shakes his head. "Don't do this."

  "I have to. I can't have things this way. Sean can't owe his mother a thing because of me."

  Trystan smiles and sighs. "I knew it was about him. This direct approach, it's so you can cut off his mother's attempt to find out and he won't owe her anything. Damn it, Avery. Sean's a grown man. If Ferro wants to leave, let him. You can't hold onto someone who doesn't want to be held. Believe me, I know."

  I'm lost in his eyes for a moment, seeing one of his long banished memories dance before me exposed and vulnerable. I touch the back of his hand, lightly. "One life touches another and changes it forever…for better or worse. We don't know unless we try, right?"

  The corners of his mouth tip up. "A life without love is not a life at all. Is that what you're saying to the man who had his heart torn from his chest?"

  "We're all the same. Have you realized that? Me, you, Jon the jerk, Bryan, and Sean. Peter seems normal." I make a face.

  Trystan laughs. "The man swing dances. Plus, he has Sydney. He's happy and that's the antithesis of normal." We both laugh before Trystan takes a long slow pull of air through his open mouth. "I'll kill him if he hurts you." He's dead serious.

  "I know."

  We stare at each other, but no one speaks. I have no idea what's between us. All I can notice is how much he seems like Sean sometimes. It's like Trystan is a mirror of Sean's past. I suppose that's what Trystan sees when he looks at me. The girl who got away, the woman whose name didn't quite slip past those pink lips last night. I feel bad for him. Hell, I feel bad for me. We're both love-struck and the person we hold dearest is gone. I get the feeling Trystan told her to take a walk the same way I told Sean I couldn't do this anymore. I want tender touches. I need hugs. I can't go on with the constant roughness and head games.

  I'm not sure who could.

  I touch Trystan's hand, which makes him drop his gaze and look at the touch. "There's no such thing as destiny or soul mates. Luck comes to those who take it. I'm taking it. Please understand."

  "Oh, I do. All too well, actually. If you're not back in five minutes, Bob is coming. If Bob doesn't come back, I'm coming, and you don't want me in there."

  I smile like he's cute, until Bob shakes his head. "The boy has a temper."

  "Stop calling me that." Trystan and Bob seem to have known each other for a while. I wonder if Bob was around when the papers found out the heartthrob Day Jones was actually Trystan Scott.

  "Yes, sir." Bob grins at Trystan and they both laugh. Then, Bob points a sausage of a finger in my face. "Five minutes, Miss Stanz. That's it. And try to find out more information than what your gut tells you, since it seems to be misleading you at times." Bob offers a smug look before opening the door.

  CHAPTER 11

  I'm standing before Henry's huge house. A towering black door, with panels of glass and wrought iron nearly twenty feet high, rises before me. My heart beats faster. If he's been trying to kill me, will he be dumb enough to shoot me on his porch? I lean in and ring the bell.

  I have no idea what I'm going to say, if I should be direct or do something else. I should have thought this part through more, but something told me that I couldn't come up with a plan. I'd have to play it the best I could, because I have no idea how he's going to react. On our last visit, Gabe kicked the crap out of him after he tried to beat me to death. Okay, I see Bob's point a little clearer now, but I'm not letting Mrs. Ferro have a thing to hold over Sean's head, not if I can help it.

  The door opens and a man in a suit is standing there. He's older, thin, and has a white mustache with grayish skin. He looks ill. Even so, he stands with perfect posture, just like Henry. "Yes?"

  "I'm here to see Mr. Thomas." Suddenly, I feel under dressed. I'm wearing jeans and Trystan's shirt with a pair of old Chucks. I straighten like I belong here and don't drop my gaze. Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, I add, "He's expecting me."

  "Come in." The man steps back and leads me into a massive foyer of marble and stone. Everything is white and cream rock. It's cold and beautiful at the same time. "I'll tell him you're here. A name, madam?"

  "Avery." I look around at the artwork on the walls, the paleness of it. There's no color to be found, not here. It's almost as if he wanted to present a sterile version of himself before letting his guests into his house. I wonder if each room is different, if Henry will lead me to a rainbow room because that's what I'd like most or if the entire house is like this.

  A massive staircase is to my left and a moment later I hear footfalls coming from above my head. When Henry comes into sight, I freeze. Fear pumps through my veins the way it did before. I have three minutes before Bob shows up. Talk fast. Say something.

  "Henry, it's good to see you."

  His eyes scan my body. "So this is what you look like during daylight hours. Creatures of the night are typically deceitful, but this transformation is remarkable. Give my compliments to your employer."

  "Miss Black will be grateful to hear it."

  He grins like a wolf about to devour a pack of sheep. "Not that boss, the other one. Or haven't you heard who you're really working for?" He taps his finger to his chin and cocks his head to the side. "Innocent or naïve? Those two traits walk hand in hand, and with you it's so hard to tell."

  "Wow, that was flattering." My brows lift and my snark comes out. I can't help it. He's still standing four steps above me, looking down on me like I'm trash.

  "I only speak the truth." His British accent comes through stronger on that phrase.

  I march up the stairs so that we're on the same step. Tipping my head to the side, I ask, "Then tell me, who's been trying to shoot me?"

  Henry's smile falls like a monkey from a tree. Plop. Dead on the forest floor. "What do you mean?"

  "Last night, for example, where were you?"

  He laughs and presses a hand to his chest. "You'r
e a presumptive whore. How dare you question me? I offered you a life that most women could only dream about and you turned me down. You have no right to be here." He snaps his fingers and the man who let me in reappears. Henry turns on the stairs and takes a step up. "Show her out."

  "I wouldn't do that." He turns and looks down at me. "There's a bodyguard due to come plowing through that door any second now. Tell me what I want to know and I'm gone."

  Henry's gaze cuts to the door and then to the servant. He's seriously annoyed. "Leave us." When we're alone, Henry slides his gaze over my body again, like I'm the hooker he ordered. "You need to know who you are working for."

  "And I suppose you know?"

  "Of course. After Black's thug broke my ribs I wanted to make sure the correct person was repaid that kindness." He smiles viciously.

  "You tried to strangle me."

  "Only a little. Some girls like it." He winks at me.

  "What do I have to do to get the name?"

  He gives me a coy grin. "Me."

  I make a disgusted sound. "Yeah, I don't think so. No freebies."

  "Still hung up on Ferro?"

  "No, he's gone actually and if you didn't act like such an asshole I would have gone out with you in a heartbeat. Better play your asshole card closer to your chest next time. You have less than 60 seconds by the way. Where were you last night?"

  He gets in my face and beams that arrogant smile that the wealthy master in grade school. It's irritating. "With your friend, having the good time you didn't enjoy."

  "I want a name. Now."

  "Of course. Her name is Amber. I came by to see you, but you weren't there. She invited me into her bed and I accepted. I left when her boyfriend came."

  "You admit that you were in my room last night?" I don't know what to do with this information. I expected him to deny knowing anything.

  "Of course."

  "It's rather convenient that the only person who can vouch for you is dead."