Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1) (19 page)

Climbing into a taxi, I slumped in the backseat and, except when the driver asked where I lived, didn't speak the whole ride. It should have felt good to be home. It only made me feel worse.

I was weary, my joints ached. This was supposed to be my second day kicking around LA. Instead I was here, dragging myself up my cracked walkway, past the rotting stench of the dumpster. When I came close enough to set my automatic porch light off, I saw something crumpled on the ground.

It was a half-eaten dead mouse.

Swallowing down a wave of nausea, I peeled my purse open. Lifting the keys high, I struggled with the door. I started to shove on it, baffled when the knob didn't move. My door was as solid as a wall.

What the fuck?
Blinking, I turned the keys in my hand. I didn't recognize them at all—and then I did. Silver had handed me copies of his, I'd completely forgotten.

Shaking my head to clear the webbing, I finally found my keys and let myself inside. Carelessly, I dropped my purse on the floor. The pink sweater soon followed, landing somewhere—I wasn't really watching.

Plugging my phone into my charger beside the kitchen table, I filled a tea kettle with water. I was setting it on the stove, the blue flames clicking on, when I heard the first 'beep.' On autopilot, I lifted my phone.

Twenty-two missed calls.

All from Silver.

Running my thumb over the edge of the device, I hesitated.
Don't talk to him. Don't even read his messages.

What could he say that could change how much I hated him?

Nothing.

Not a word.

Yet still, I opened the texts.

Silver: Talk to me, please.

Silver: Where are you?

Silver: Tell me you're okay.

Silver: Pet, answer me.

Silver: Did something happen?

Silver: Did I happen?

Silver: If someone hurt you, I'll kill them.

Tensing up, I read that last text again.
The one who hurt me was you,
I thought. Reading his words sent shame tumbling into my wall of betrayal.
I should have told him I flew home. What if he thinks I'm in LA and something happened to me?

He must be so worried, so lost and confused. It wasn't my problem, but...

Pushing the phone to my forehead, I groaned. “No,” I said to myself. I needed to hear my own voice out loud. “He fucked up—he beyond fucked up. That guy could have killed me! He nearly did! I don't want to talk to him at all. Never.”

Never was a sharp word, it made me tense up.

Against my skull, my phone vibrated. Startled, I pulled away, watching as a new message appeared in stark black letters.

Silver: I won't leave you alone until you tell me you're alright. Not knowing is worse than death, Pet. Talk to me.

Crumbling into a chair, I saw myself from a distance. One by one, I typed the letters on my phone. I was justifying my reasons, saying to myself,
He deserves to know that I hate him.
Wouldn't that feel good?

My text said: Don't ever contact me again.

The kettle started to whistle, fraying my already raw nerves. Jumping up, I rattled the cups over the sink. The tea was too hot to drink, so I leaned over it and breathed in the steam.

It'll be okay.

Everything will be okay.

My phone started blowing up, message after message hammering at me. They came so fast that I backed away, gawking at the device as it vibrated madly. Silver was desperate to reach me.

I snatched up my cell and turned it off. The sudden silence was heavy, unnatural. Listening to my breathing, I grabbed the table and worked at calming down.

In all things, Silver was demanding. He didn't care that I'd instructed him to leave me alone. I had a chilling feeling that this wouldn't be the end of it.

Of us.

Ignore him, change your number, whatever it takes.
I was never going to see that man again.

Walking through the living room, I paused. The pink LA sweater was sitting on a chair where I'd dropped it.
Throw it away.
Stepping closer, I squinted at the shiny laminated letters.
You threw away his gifts before. This will be easy.

Do it!

Clutching my tea, I walked closer to the sweater... and I kept going.

I'd done many things to block Silver from my life. I'd even sold the earrings that I'd loved—the very first gift he'd sent me—just to get away from him.

I told myself that I didn't need to do more.

So I only had myself to blame when I woke up smelling him.

The source was easy to find; I still had the jacket he'd draped over me the night I'd run from his apartment. Fingering the collar, I slid my palm down the sleeve. What was I going to do, give it back to him?

Fondling the buttons, I stopped. It was too easy to remember him wearing this, how it stretched over his broad body, or how he'd play with the cuffs and make me think of him playing with me.

Deep in the pocket, I found the business card. I'd left it there after discovering it, not sure what to do with the thing. Bending a corner, I read the printed words.
Keswick Silverwell.
I knew where he worked, maybe I could send the jacket back to him. That would let me avoid him entirely.

Stalled by indecision, I took the easy road—I would do nothing today.

I'd have time to decide.

Finishing my morning routine, I marveled at how he consumed me even now. My home was full of him, my head just as stuffed. Silver—Keswick—whatever I called him, he was firmly under my flesh.

I'll forget him. Eventually... I'll forget him.

Driving my car to work wasn't the escape I hoped for. I struggled to think about my day, or about navigating the low-mist of rain. When I parked my car twenty minutes later, he was still an echo in my head.

By the end of today, it'll be easier.
It had to get easier. All I needed was time... space... distance. Lifting my eyes, I scanned the front steps of my workplace.

Silver was waiting for me.

I pulled up short, freezing where I was, trapped under the intensity of his stare. He was wearing a shiny leather jacket, the material slick from the light drizzle.

He took a step, then another, and I was still frozen. It wasn't until he reached for me that the spell broke.

“Pet,” he said, blinking as I backed away.

“I told you to leave me alone.”

“You did,” he agreed, his voice low and haunting. “But I can't. Not until I know why... and maybe not even then.”

I thrilled at how he phrased that, then I snuffed out the damn fire in me with a cold reminder. “You
know
why! There's no way you don't know what you did!”

All at once, his face fell. I was looking at a lifeless statue. “You remember,” he whispered.

“Yes,” I said. “I fucking remember.”

His arms were long enough to grab my shoulders. “Let me explain, Pet—”

“Don't call me that!” Wrenching away, I struggled to keep tears from my eyes. Around us, people slowed, listening but pretending not to. To them we were a couple having a spat, but I knew we were so much more.

Something akin to pain flooded his vision. His fingers hovered in the air, willing me to come back. “I won't walk away from you. I'm not going to vanish, not after everything. Let me talk to you.”

“You're wasting your time. I don't want to hear another word.”

“If you'd—”

“
I said leave me alone!”

His eyebrows ran low, then he glanced over my shoulder. I started to turn, hearing Detective Roose before I saw him. “Miss Willow,” he said, walking up to stand beside me. His voice was light, not matching how fiercely he stared at Silver. “What's going on here?”

Sweat spread over the back of my neck. Glancing between the men, I understood the root of my fear. Here, right in front of Roose, was the man he'd been searching for. I'd done what he'd hoped; I'd led him right fucking to him.

It would have taken no effort to say, “That's the guy who hacked Old Stone.” The surface of my tongue was too parched to make a sound. I wasn't scared for me, though... I was scared for Silver.

I don't want him to go to jail.

He was the robber! He'd held me hostage! He'd ruined
everything
for me. Why were my guts rolling with unease at being the one to expose him to the public?

Because you still care about him. Even if you don't want to.

This would be my last act of kindness. I'd use it to make sure Silver left me alone forever. “Nothing is wrong,
Detective.”
I emphasized that last word.

Silver snapped his eyes to me, then back to Roose.

I said,
“
This guy thought I was someone he knew. But we cleared it up.”

“That so?” The detective rocked on his heels, flipping his coat back so that we could all see the shape of the gun holster at his hip. He was reading our interaction so easily, he could tell there was animosity brewing here.

Silver hadn't twitched. Not even his eyelashes moved. The heavy silence was broken only by the occasional rumble in the sky. The clouds were warning that the drizzle was going to get much worse.

I hoped that my warning to Silver was just as obvious.

Leave me alone, get out of here before Roose senses who you are.
On some level I knew that was impossible, but my nerves said otherwise. I still didn't know why the hell I cared what happened to Silver, I just... did.

The sooner he left, the sooner I could stop thinking about him.

Lifting his chin, he focused his amber eyes on me. “Yes,” he said softly. “Everything is clear now.”

Barbed wire circled my heart, shredding it.

With a slow smirk aimed at Roose, he showed us both the back of his jacket. Quickly, he flicked up his collar. It only hid his neck, but that action felt like he was cutting himself off from me.

Stop letting him get to you.
It was a firm, logical plea. This was what I'd wanted, I needed Silver to get out of my life. He was a bastard, a mad man, a fucking dream-killer.

But as I watched him fade slowly into the wet, foggy distance, the thorns in my chest dug deeper. I might have pushed off my heels and chased after him, except Detective Roose moved first.

“Did you get my messages?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, watching as the man I'd wrapped myself up in became a black speck.

“And did they shake anything loose for you? Did you remember anything?”

Silver turned the corner, gone.

“Alexis?”

Looking up at Roose, I slid damp hair from my face. “No, sorry. I didn't remember anything.”

The wrinkles in his face grew, making him look so much older. “Damn. That was my last shot.” He squinted closer at me. “Don't feel too badly, okay?”

I must have been looking grim. Shaking myself, I fought to put on a new smile. “I wish I could have helped you more.”

“You did help me.” Confused, I gave him my full attention. “The answer isn't always as obvious as we'd like. So you don't recall the robbery, fine. That just means I have to work harder. And maybe that's what was always needed to crack this case. Nothing wrong with a little hard work, right?”

“Right,” I whispered.

“It wasn't a waste of time,” he said firmly. He stood over me, the thick clouds behind his head starting to lighten up. “I'm glad I got to meet you, Alexis. You made me think about everything a little differently.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.” Flashing his teeth, he winked. “And honestly, I think being forced to dig into your past must have helped you, too. When I met you a few weeks ago, you were... I don't want to sound like a dick, but you were kind of fragile. I don't get that same vibe anymore.”

Rain tickled my eyelashes, I didn't wipe it away.
What is he talking about?

“Anyway,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the sky. “Thanks for trying. It means a lot. And... would you look at that beautiful sight?” He walked away from me for a few steps. “Rain is stopping, sun is shining, and I have an assload of paperwork to get on. See ya, Alexis.”

Lifting my arm, I spoke with determination. “Bye, Vermont.”

He stopped short, his mouth opening in surprise. I knew calling him by his first name would make him happy. He deserved that.

With a final wave, he strolled down the sidewalk.

The sky was cutting through the clouds, ignoring the blacker bits that still lingered in the distance. Long after the detective was out of sight, I stood on those wet steps and thought about what he'd said.

No longer fragile...

When I finally went inside, the puddles were gone.

Alexis

“M
om, please,” I groaned. “I don't want to talk about this.”

“But honey,” her voice chopped through my phone. “Just tell me what went wrong. It had to be pretty bad to break up with a guy who could fly you all the way to LA for a weekend!”

Hunching over my steering wheel, I again regretted picking up the phone. “Why don't you want to believe me when I say he messed up?”

She clicked her tongue. “Lexi, I'm just saying that... well... maybe you should reconsider.”

“Reconsider?” I spit the word out.

“You're no spring chicken, dear. Why not settle down with a nice rich man like him and...”

Turning a little harder than I needed to, I debated dropping my phone on the floor of the car. “Mom. Look. You're fixated on all the wrong things.”

“Money isn't ever wrong.”

“I never cared about the money!” The rubber under my hands squeaked from the pressure of my grip. I was about to say more, when the low murmur of my radio slid into my awareness.

The voice in my speakers said, “...Just like years ago, and prompting the bank...”

I turned the radio dial upwards.

“But Alexis, just give him a chance, you aren't getting any young—”

“I need to go.” Clicking the end call button, I dropped my phone into the cup-holder and cranked the radio even louder. The person talking—some news station announcer—filled the air. “Authorities are saying there's still no suspect. Here's officer Santile with more details.”