Jaded, p.4
Jaded, page 4
I give her a blank stare. “Thanks, I couldn’t tell.”
Lexi glances over her shoulder and around the hall. It suddenly feels very empty and a little too quiet. My hand tightens around the key. “Take Zoe inside.”
Lexi hesitates for half a second, her fingers tightening on Zoe’s hand, uncertainty written in her eyes. Without another word, she nudges Zoe through the door, following behind quickly to shut it.
I don’t move. I just stand there, heart hammering in my chest, listening as the latch clicks. Then, I turn slowly, and my breath catches in my throat.
He’s here.
Standing in the stairwell at the end of the hall. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with that unreadable expression of his. Has he been there the whole time? Was he just waiting for me to notice?
The air suddenly feels thicker. I lift my chin, fingers squeezing the key card so tightly it digs into my skin. “Stalking me now?” I call out to him.
Locke pushes off the wall, slowly creeping toward me. “Not stalking,” he answers casually, “just waiting.”
My stomach tightens.
He’s getting too close now. Close enough that I can see how his gaze drags over me, slow and completely shameless.
“Breaking into my building?” I challenge.
“Who’s breaking in?” He lifts his eyebrows slightly. “There's no crime in walking through an open door, is there?”
I exhale sharply, rolling my eyes at the audacity of this man.
Locke tilts his head, like he’s still trying to figure me out. Then he smirks. “You’re not running,” he muses.
I refuse to let my expression shift. “Should I be?”
His smile widens as if he’s enjoying this. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking away. But inside, my pulse is a fucking war drum. He’s here, in front of me, and my body remembers every second of our night together with brutal clarity.
Locke comes to a stop, inches from me. Then, before I can react, he yanks the key from my hand. The movement is jarring. His fingertips graze mine, and it’s enough to make my skin burn where he touched it. He holds the key between his fingers, studying it for a moment. Then, slips it into his pocket with a soft chuckle.
“I had a lot of thoughts about what I might do when I confronted you.” His voice is smooth, almost venomous. He tilts his head slightly. “Some of them weren’t very polite.” A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. I can’t help it. He wants control of this moment, but he’s not the only one who knows how to play this game.
So I step closer, just enough to test the tension. To stretch it even tighter. To remind him he’s not the only one who enjoys a thrill. “You?” The sarcasm in my voice shatters the thick silence. “Not polite?” I tilt my head up, giving him a broad smile. I hadn’t quite noticed how much he towered over me until now. “Well, what made you change your mind?”
His gaze flicks lower, slower. I wonder if he remembers that night, like I do. Can he still feel my skin under his hands?
I don’t move.
Neither does he.
For a moment, it feels like time folds in on itself. Like there’s nothing but the air between us, thick and crackling with electricity. Seconds tick by. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t fidget, doesn’t soften.
Then he says, almost like it’s a simple fact, “I think you might be useful.”
I go completely still, my brow furrowing. “Useful?”
He doesn’t rush to explain. He lets the word hang between us, watching me like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do with it.
“I’ll explain,” he says, tipping his head slightly, eyes catching the fluorescent hallway light. “Over dinner.”
I let out a sharp laugh. Is he actually serious?
“Dinner?” I repeat. “With the man who literally stalked me to my home?”
His jaw tenses, and he lets out a short, humorless breath. “You keep saying that like you didn’t rob me first.”
My mouth snaps shut. Okay, fair.
He shrugs, his smile fading into something sharper. “But sure. If you want to call me a stalker, go ahead.”
I narrow my eyes, tilting my head slightly. “How do I know you’re not planning to kill me?”
His grin is smug and annoyingly confident. “You don’t.”
I shouldn’t find that amusing. But somehow, I do.
I hesitate for a brief moment. Then, before I can overthink it, I whip the condo door open. “Don’t wait up!” I call over my shoulder.
From inside, Lexi gasps. There’s a beat of silence, then, “If you get kidnapped, I am not paying the ransom!” I close the door with a laugh.
Should I be laughing?
Locke watches the entire exchange with amusement glinting in his eyes. He steps aside, gesturing down the hall. “After you.”
I roll my eyes, but step ahead of him. I don’t know why.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
All I know is that I want to see what happens next.
Chapter 8
LOCKE
I have to admit, it was amusing seeing the shock wash over her face when she realized I was there. Waiting in the stairwell like some kind of psycho. Am I some kind of psycho?
That’s something I’ve asked myself one too many times.
I push that thought aside as we approach the diner. Arden insisted we walk, not drive, as she led me to the nearest hole in the wall. I can’t blame her for not wanting to get in a car with me after that stunt. I’m still following her as she walks through the grimy double doors and straight to a corner booth near the back of the restaurant. Interesting, she wants us secluded.
We take our seats on opposite sides of the booth; she claims the side facing the door. Her eyes scan the small restaurant, alert to every movement. She’s on edge but calculated. She looks like a woman who knows what she’s doing. I get a sense that she’s noted where the exits are, and even with the diner’s hum around us, she’s ready to bolt if she needs to.
A server comes to the table with a coffeepot already in hand and the smell of stale cigarettes riding her clothes. She doesn’t smile as she asks, “Coffee?" We both nod as she pours two cups, drops two laminated menus, and disappears back toward the kitchen.
Neither of us is eager to break the silence. So, I stay quiet, studying Arden’s face.
She’s radiant. A few freckles scatter over her warm, honey-toned nose and cheeks. Her black hair flows in effortless waves past her shoulders, occasionally falling into her eyes. A minor distraction she casually brushes aside. And those eyes, a piercing shade of blue, stand out above all her other features. Every detail, even that slightly crooked grin that lifts her soft, full lips, works. She’s stunning, but not in a perfect, untouchable way. It’s effortless. Real.
Her brow furrows. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I realize I must look crazy. Again. I snap out of it, shaking my head, and finally find my voice. “I brought you here so we could chat about a minor problem I’m having with a client.”
“Oh?” She leans back in the booth, crossing her arms. “And which celebrity has fallen upon such misfortune that you need help from someone like me?”
That stops me mid-thought. “Wait, how do you know what I do for a living?”
“Let’s just say I know how to spot an easy mark,” she replies, examining her nails as if she’s already bored.
Her eyes flick up, and I suddenly feel as if she’s cataloging every detail about me. Of course she is. I bet she’s been doing it since the moment we met.
I regain focus, continuing, “My client… a musician… he’s been making headlines a lot lately. Mostly for the wrong reasons.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. Her eyebrows rise as if she’s suddenly more interested.
“He got into a fight at an awards show last week,” I continue. “It’s been on every gossip site for days. And he used to be best friends with this actor. I mean, they were inseparable.”
Arden gives me a confused look. “And that’s relevant how?”
“Well, they’re not anymore. The actor claims he has video proof of something bad the rock star did. Something that’ll go viral the second it hits the internet. He’s trying to ruin my client’s career.”
Arden’s eyes narrow thoughtfully.
“And if that video gets out,” I add, “his entire team is screwed. Including me.”
She sits for a moment, staring straight ahead, her gaze drifting past me to some unknown point in the distance. Then her eyes go wide.
“Wait.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Jaxon Wilde.”
I blink at her. “Did you hear anything else I said?”
She ignores the question completely, leaning forward with both palms flat on the table. “Jaxon. Fucking. Wilde?”
I sigh, rubbing my temples. “Yes, congratulations. You cracked the case.”
She leans back again, looking like she’s just won the lottery. But then her eyes go dark. “Okay… but how am I supposed to help?”
“I just need access to the actor,” I say. “We have a history. There’s no way he’s letting me anywhere near him. I need someone to get close to him, gain his trust, and get access to his devices so we can delete the video.”
She nods once, then tilts her head. “I’m not sure I actually want to know, but what’s in the video?”
“Jaxon isn’t positive, but he thinks it’s a video from a drunken night at a club a couple of years back,” I start. “An underage girl got mixed up with them, which is not unusual for this actor. He finds them everywhere he goes and loves to take advantage of their star-struck nature.”
I pause, watching her reaction turn from vague interest to fiery rage.
“So, I guess the actor got some footage of Jaxon with this girl that could paint him in a poor light. He didn’t give me any details. I’m actually not sure if he remembers. He claims it’s a setup.”
She nods again, taking everything in.
“And what if he’s lying?”
“That’s beside the point. He’s my client. He pays me to keep his reputation clean. It’s not my job to figure out if he’s being truthful.”
Her brow furrows, and she stares down at the floor. I guess she didn’t like that answer, but it’s the truth.
When she finally looks back up at me, I still see a flicker of interest in her eyes. “How much?”
I laugh, a wicked smile creeping across my lips. “See, that’s the thing. I already paid you.” I reach into my jacket to pull out the watch she stole from me two days ago.
Her expression doesn’t change, but I catch a subtle shift in her body language. She tries to hide a sharp inhale. Her grip tightens around her coffee mug. Her throat bobs once, hard.
Those blue eyes flick over the watch, then to my face, like she’s running the math on every mistake she’s ever made.
I continue, “Consider it settling the debt you created when you decided to take something personal along with this.”
She looks down at the table again. Is that guilt darkening her features, or confusion? I let her sit like that for what seems like an eternity before I finally speak again.
If this doesn’t convince her, I’m not sure what will. “Come on, you want more than this, don’t you?”
She looks me dead in the eye, maybe for the first time. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
I exhale softly. I know she’s going to deny it. “You could’ve picked a hundred different ways to make money, but you didn’t. You slip into upscale clubs and look for the best targets. The ones who have influence or any semblance of power. You don’t even steal cash; you look for things that hold some weight.”
I let the silence linger for just a moment. Long enough for her to feel it. Letting the tension build. “You don’t just want money; you want a way in. A different life. More luxury, more power, maybe just more comfort. This is your chance.”
She scoffs, but I notice the way her throat bobs. The way she clenches her jaw. “That’s ridiculous. Not everyone wants to be like you.”
I lean back against the booth seat, folding my arms across my chest. “Is it? Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself, to me.”
Then I say the only thing I think might stick: “Work with me and you won’t have to slip in anymore. You’ll be part of that world. The parties, the travel. Where Wilde goes, I go. And where I go…”
I let her finish that sentence for herself and watch as the realization washes over her. I know I’m right. It’s written all over her face.
Chapter 9
ARDEN
As I sit across from him in the grubby diner booth, my thoughts are all over the place.
He’s talking so much, and I almost can’t believe what I’m hearing. How dare he make assumptions like he knows me. This life has never been about anything more than survival. Maybe with a little vengeance sprinkled in.
It’s how I clawed my way out of the pit I grew up in, how I help Lexi give Zoe a better childhood than either of us ever had.
And coercing me into doing his dirty work? It’s low, especially for someone who acts so high and mighty. He oozes arrogance; every inch of him is insufferable. He’s a complete asshole.
But he’s also right. I stole from him. And I can’t help wondering what he meant when he said I took something personal too.
That watch wasn’t an heirloom. The knife looked new. I should be focused on his extortion, but I’m stuck contemplating whether it’s the knife or the cross.
I know I have to say something. Give him some sort of answer. Do I really have a choice? What will he do if I say no?
“Can’t you just have a hacker break into his files or something? Why do you need me?”
His eyes meet mine again, and the way my heart flutters into my throat makes me want to scream. Why does he insist on eye contact?
“Well, no, actually. It’s not like in the movies. I have a colleague who can make everything disappear, but he needs an access point. Something already on the network. The easiest way is for someone to be there in person… maybe grab his phone. We just need his cloud files.”
I nod at him again. Filing the information away while my chest tightens.
“Just don’t fuck him.”
I bark out a laugh. “What? I don’t just —”
“That was not a joke,” he cuts in.
The annoyance in his voice grates on me, but my curiosity wins. “Well, since you’re so worried about it, who’s the guy?”
He leans in, letting the silence stretch, clearly enjoying my curiosity. This man loves suspense. Finally, he grits out, “Luke Holloway.”
“Oh….” I reply. Trying to keep the heat rising up my neck at bay.
His jaw twitches. He has to know what that name does to people.
“So let me get this straight,” I say. “First Jaxon Wilde, now Luke Holloway, and you’re telling me I can’t fuck either of them? Am I allowed to look, or is that off limits too?”
Locke seems to note my sarcasm but still gives me a flat glare. “Please be serious for once.”
“Hey, I just want to know the rules.” I say, lifting my hands in mock surrender.
His expression stays flat. “So, we’ll leave tonight.”
“Uh, hello? I still haven’t agreed.” I study him, noticing his expression change. His eyes look darker. His grin is sharper than it was a minute ago.
“Well, you could always go to jail. You’d look great in orange.”
I freeze for a fraction of a second. Suddenly my pulse is hammering in my ears.
Zoe… Lexi… I can’t leave them. Not like this. My hands press against the edge of the booth, gripping harder than I realize, trying to anchor myself.
His eyes don’t waver, and it’s infuriating. Every inch of him radiates the arrogance I hate and fear all at once. He’ll see through me if I flinch. I can’t let him win that easily.
I swallow hard. My voice comes out quieter than I’d like, steady but wary. “So that’s it? If I don’t go with you, you’re calling the cops?”
He leans back, eyes glinting like he’s already won a game I didn’t know we were playing. “You committed a Category B felony. That’ll get you somewhere between one and twenty years. Don’t forget the $15,000 fine.”
My stomach is twisting into knots. I don’t have a choice. He’s taking me, or I’m going to jail.
“How long will we be gone?” I ask. “Lexi will be working. She needs childcare.”
“Lexi… the roommate? So, you’re not the one with the kid? Huh. You give off that vibe.” He cracks a smile that’s just as infuriating as everything else about him.
I’m not in the mood to ask what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, so I continue, “Absolutely not. I’m the cool aunt. But I’m also the babysitter. I really need to know how long we’ll be gone.”
He studies me, eyes lingering on mine. “A month? Two? It’s hard to say with this type of job.”
“Oh, perfect. I’ll just tell my best friend to pencil me in for ‘indefinite disappearance.’ She’ll love that.”
“A couple of months or twenty years. Take your pick.”
I scoff, sliding out of the booth. “You’re unbelievable.”
I don’t wait for a response. I stand, toss a few crumpled bills on the table, and walk out into the warm evening air.
I don’t look back. He may think he’s won, but I’m not done playing.
Chapter 10
LOCKE
I’m on her heels in seconds. This girl thinks she can keep me guessing, but she couldn’t be more predictable. I’m looking forward to fully unravelling her, piece by piece.
During our walk back to her condo, Arden sends a text to Lexi, letting her know everything’s fine, then goes quiet. The silence between us is heavy. I notice the pause in her step, the subtle shift in her shoulders. She’s holding something back; I can feel it. That gnawing sense of unease creeps into my chest and won’t let go.
