It Pains Me (Betrayal #5)

8. Theo

8

THEO

“He has to be somewhere.”

Octavio sat across from me at the table. “He’s never in the same place twice?—”

“Bullshit, the asshole has to live somewhere.”

“My guys have limited visibility, and this is what they’re reporting.”

“Then are they idiots,” I snapped. “Are you an idiot?”

Octavio turned quiet. “No, sir.”

“Because it seems like you’re a fucking idiot to me.” Everyone in the room turned to look at us once they realized I was officially an angry bull.

Octavio stilled.

“I’m tired of the bullshit. I’m tired of the excuses. I want this asshole on a fucking dinner plate. Do you understand me?”

“Yes—”

“Or do I have to go to France and search the whole fucking place with a fine-tooth comb?”

“I’ll figure it out, Theo.”

“Good.” I left the table and stormed off. “Now get off your ass and do it.”

All the guys left their beers at the tables and got up, even though it was a job for just a couple people, but it was better to look busy than look lazy.

I took the passageway and stepped into the kitchen, the place smelling like disinfectants rather than food after the restaurant closed. I walked into the dining area, sat at one of the tables with a white tablecloth, and lit up a cigar.

The dark street was empty of cars. Everyone was at home, tucked into their warm beds, while men like me crawled out of their hiding places like fucking cockroaches. It’d been a rough week. Now that I’d lost the woman I wanted, I had nothing to occupy my mind other than revenge.

I needed it more than ever.

My phone lit up from a text from Andrea. Nice to hear from you. It’s been a while.

Been busy. Busy wasting my fucking time.

No man is too busy for me, so there must have been a special someone these last few months.

You want to fuck or not?

Sure. But I should tell you my rates went up since we last spoke.

That’s fine.

They’re double what they used to be.

Good.

But the first one’s on the house. Call it the heartbreak special.

I let the screen go dark and enjoyed my cigar.

Axel grabbed his drink from the bar then sat in the chair across from me.

Before he could say anything, I fired off, “I got the fucking name.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t take a drink because he was immediately hooked on my words.

“Beau Draven.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

Axel sat in shock for a few seconds. “What the fuck?—”

“So my brother is dead because of your piece of shit father-in-law,” I snapped. “So when his plan went to shit, he decided to be petty, so fucking petty that he came for my other half. None of this shit would have happened if Dante hadn’t decided to be a worthless scumbag. If Scarlett weren’t your fucking wife…” Motherfucker would be dead.

“Whoa, how do you know Bolton isn’t lying to you?”

“Why would he lie?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Because you fucked his wife?”

“He consented to it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m not sure you can trust anything he says.”

“We made a deal.”

“It’s not like he’s a man of honor,” he said. “Bolton and Beau both want you dead, so doesn’t this seem a little too convenient?”

“Why would he want me to focus on Beau when I’m already focused on him?”

“I don’t know. He could be setting you up. He offered to help you, right?”

I took a drink.

“I know you can’t think straight when it comes to Killian. I get it. But let’s be pragmatic here. You might be walking into a trap. He might be taking you straight to the wolf’s den to be ambushed.”

“Doesn’t that seem too obvious?”

“Reverse psychology. It is too obvious, which is why it’s not believable.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Even if you’re right, this is still Dante’s fault. And I want him hung from a noose.”

Axel dropped his gaze to his drink, the first sign of shame.

“Because that shithead thought he could cross us. Because he thought he was sooo fucking smart.”

Axel still wouldn’t look at me.

I was so pissed, there weren’t words to describe it. I wanted to scream and yell, even though it wasn’t Axel’s fault, at least not directly. If I’d just stayed out of his relationship problems, Killian would have been spared a premature, and probably painful, death.

Axel always ran his mouth, but now he didn’t have much to say.

I continued to glare at him across the table.

“All we have is Bolton’s word, and I don’t think that’s good enough.”

“It makes sense to me. Beau escaped, and, pissed off he didn’t get what Dante promised him, he comes for me. He comes for me in the most brutal way possible. All because I helped you. All because you called and I fucking answered.”

When Axel looked at me again, his stare was wounded. “Theo, I’m sorry?—”

“You’re sorry?” I asked incredulously. “Maybe Dante made amends with you by patching shit up with your parents, but he can’t make amends with me. Not when my brother, my fucking twin, is dead because of him.”

“What happened with Astrid?—”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not,” he said. “You’re different, and I’m trying to figure out why.”

“I’m different because I just found out why my brother is dead—because of you.”

His shoulders sank. “Theo, that’s not fair?—”

“I had no business with Dante until you asked me to have business with him. When he came to me for a partnership, I would have told him to fuck off because I have plenty of shit on my plate. I did that for you, and I’m the one who paid the price. You didn’t lose anyone. You got your parents back. You got your wife. What do I have? My parents are dead, good fucking riddance. My wife is dead. God rest her pure fucking soul. And now my brother is gone. I lost everything, and you got everything.”

He stared at me, his eyes heavy in sorrow and his breathing uneven.

“As long as Dante is in your life, I’m not in yours.”

“Theo—”

“Fuck off, Axel.” I got up from the table, left my drink behind, and stuck him with the bill.

I opened my drawer and pulled out the cash from the envelope. I tossed it on the bed before I headed to the bathroom.

“I told you it was on the house, honey.”

“I don’t want your fucking pity,” I snapped. “Now, get out.” I stepped into the shower and scrubbed the sweat away before I dried off and looked at myself in the mirror. My face hollow. My eyes dead. Bones frozen solid.

When I returned to the bedroom, Andrea was gone.

The money was still there.

I put it back in the envelope and stuffed it back in the drawer.

A quiet knock sounded on the door from the other room.

“What?” I said loudly, knowing it was my butler now that my guest had left.

He appeared in the open doorway. “Sir, Scarlett is downstairs. Should I?—”

“No!”

He lingered for a moment, taken aback by the tone of my voice. “Of course, sir. I’ll tell her you’ve retired for the evening.”

“Tell her to fuck off for all I care.”

He left.

I pulled on a clean pair of boxers and sweatpants. It was too early for bed, so I would probably drink and watch a game in front of the TV. Axel and I used to watch football together, but I never wanted to see his fucking face again.

“I said, he doesn’t want to be disturbed!”

I gave a sigh in annoyance when I realized what was about to happen.

The door flew open in the other room.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” He trailed behind her, unable to stop her because he was too polite to touch her. “I’ll phone the police.”

“Go ahead,” Scarlett said when she faced me, eyes like swords sharpened for battle. “Let’s see what happens.”

“It’s fine,” I said to my butler. “This will be done before the police can get here anyway.”

Both of her eyebrows rose up her face.

My butler excused himself and shut the door.

I stood near the foot of my bed, leaving my shirt off because I didn’t care about showing respect to Axel anymore. “What do you want, Scarlett?”

“What do I want?” she asked, widening her eyes. “My husband is broken, Theo.”

“Yeah? How do you think I feel?”

“I don’t know,” she snapped. “It seems like you don’t feel anything right now.”

I’m trying not to.

“He’s your brother?—”

“He’s not my brother—because my brother is dead. I’ll probably never get his bones back because they’re in an oil drum at the bottom of the fucking ocean. If Axel wants my friendship, then I want Dante out of the picture. I want him out of this fucking city. What I really want is him dead, but I’m showing mercy.”

“Mercy? You call that mercy?”

“I stand by what I said.”

“You don’t know if my father is the reason Beau killed Killian. It may be a completely different?—”

“Too much of a fucking coincidence.”

“We still don’t know?—”

“I’m not in the mood, Scarlett. If you thought you could walk in here and flip your hair and make everything better, you’re delusional. I don’t care if you’re a woman. I won’t go easy on you. Now, get the fuck out.”

Her hands went to her hips. “What happened with Astrid?”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re a different person, and I want to know why.”

“I’m a different person because Bolton told me who killed my brother. And the reason he died is because I was stupid enough to help Axel. I don’t know how many fucking times I told him just to kill Dante. Jesus Christ, I should have done it myself and saved us all this bullshit.”

She didn’t jump to her father’s defense. “Theo, even if all that is true, it isn’t Axel’s fault. Don’t punish him for something he didn’t do.”

“He’s guilty.”

“He’s guilty by association—at the most. But you know that Axel would never do anything to hurt you—ever. If it came down to it, he probably would have killed my father before he let anything happen to your brother.”

“He wouldn’t have risked his chance with you for anything.”

“For you, he would,” she said. “And I think we still would have ended up together…somehow.”

Tired of her angry stare, I looked away.

“What happened with Astrid?” she repeated.

I gave a sigh. “Not relevant to this conversation.”

“Something set you off.”

“I told you what set me off, Scarlett.” I stared at her again, my rage seeping through my pores.

“Axel is devastated. Please talk to him.”

“No.”

“Theo—”

“He’s dead to me.”

She stilled at my harsh words. Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine, and her breaths came in slow and deep. “I know that’s not true.”

“Then take off your clothes, get on the bed, and we’ll finish what we started. Let’s see how much he means to me.”

A heavy mixture of sorrow and disappointment and even mild offense came into her gaze. “This isn’t you.”

“Leave, Scarlett.”

“No.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not leaving here until I can tell Axel everything is okay. Because I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like…” She shook her head. “It’s like he’s lost his reason to live.”

“Funny,” I said. “Because I’ve lost mine too.” I walked past her into the sitting room, making a drink at the bar. I didn’t offer her one before I moved to the armchair, sat down, and cracked my knuckles.

She took a seat on the couch and stared at the coffee table and the TV before she looked at me again.

I grabbed a cigar and lit up.

“What happened?” she asked quietly.

“You need to be more specific, beautiful.”

“With Astrid.”

“She chose him. Simple as that.” I pulled the smoke into my mouth before I released it and watched it rise to the ceiling. “I told her about my dead wife, and she still chose him.”

Instead of hitting me with a bunch of questions, she watched me in silence. “I—I didn’t know you were married.”

I looked at her as I let the smoke roll around in my mouth. “I assumed Axel told you.”

“No.”

I looked at the TV again and let the cigar rest between my fingertips.

“Axel doesn’t share your secrets. Not even with me.”

My intuition was like a metal detector, and it didn’t beep when she spoke. Her quiet surprise seemed sincere.

“It’s done,” I said. “Which is fine, because I wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway.”

“It seems like you were already in one.”

“You can’t be in a relationship with someone who’s in a relationship with someone else.”

“You can’t be heartbroken unless you gave your heart to someone to break.”

I puffed on the cigar again. “I’m not heartbroken. I’m just…fucking over it. Bolton treats her like shit, and she’s too fucking stupid to see it.”

“She’s not stupid, Theo. She just wants to see the good in people, the way she sees the good in you.”

“I’m not a good man, but I’m not a liar and a manipulator and a maniac.” I released the smoke from my mouth. “I know I fucked up, I know it’s my fault, but I’m still pissed off. I can accept not having her. But I can’t accept her choosing him. Not when she deserves better.”

Scarlett continued to look at me with sadness. “Yeah.”

“I found out what happened with that phone call.”

“Tell me.”

“Some guys broke in to her apartment in the middle of the night, and she called me for help.”

“Oh my god,” she said with a gasp. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” I said quickly. “Bolton staged the whole thing.”

“What!”

“I can’t give her the proof, but I know I’m right.”

“So this guy terrorized his own wife?”

“Yes. To drive her straight into his arms. It’s brilliant, but fucked up. If only I had picked up the phone, showed up, snapped their necks, and taken her home. We wouldn’t be sitting here now.”

“And you wouldn’t be mad at Axel right now.”

I puffed out the smoke from my mouth and looked at her.

“Because we both know Axel isn’t the one you’re mad at.”

I was mad at myself. I’d played a sloppy game and lost the match. I didn’t realize how big the pot was until I’d already put down a shitty hand.

“There’s nothing that can be done?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“There’s always something?—”

“She picked him. It’s over.” I’d fought not once, but twice, and that was the most I was willing to give to anyone. I could hand her the glasses, but if she didn’t want to look at the fine print on the page, I couldn’t make her read it. “I told her the real reason I ended things, that I made a deal with Bolton. The look on her face… I knew it was over.”