Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
C ecilia
I sat at the same Italian bar I had sat in just last Friday and ordered another glass of wine. I’d been here only a few minutes when the seat next to mine was being filled, and I looked over, seeing Hodge again.
“Hey, doll face,” he chimes, and disgust rolls through me. His deliverance of nicknames came off entirely creepy, unlike James, who, even though annoys me with them, makes them sound so…enticing, although I’d never admit that to him.
“Let’s skip the niceties,” I say, jumping to it. “I’m willing to work with you only if you can tell me exactly what I’m getting myself into. How do you know about me and my brother? What is James doing, and why do you want to take him down so badly?”
He grins at that, and it feels icky again, but I persist. “I always have an eye on Labyrinth headquarters. It wasn’t exactly hard to discover you and your reasons for being there when you were yelling about it in the lobby.” I think back to the first time I ever went there, and I’m slightly embarrassed by the scene I made, knowing it had obviously gotten his attention. “It’s simple business why I want to take down James and his empire,” he adds. “I want to be the one on top. Nothing more.”
“Okay,” I say, finding his answer reasonable enough. “What is it that James is doing then?”
He eyes me for a long moment as if he is deciding whether I am worth it or not before he finally relents. “You ever hear of the illegal market?”
I furrow my brows as I lean closer to him to speak lower. “The illegal market? As in illegitimate transactions?”
He nods. “James has been working outside the government for a long time. How do you think the guy got so rich and made his business successful?”
“So, he is working with criminals,” I state, confirming what I’ve felt all along.
“He’s not just working with them doll face. He is one. What I need from you is to help me prove it.”
My mind whirls, and I think back to the warehouse incident the other day, wondering if unregulated items were being shipped from there to be sold illegally. Probably so…but how did he get the police off his back so quickly? And then there’s the ledger I found and stole from my brother. Could that book be the proof of his money laundering? I could tell Hodge about all this…but I find myself not saying anything for some reason.
I had anxiety about the ledger, considering my brother had briefly called me, asking me if I’d seen anything or dropped anything out of the glovebox in the car. He knew it was missing, and I was the one keeping it from him.
Guilty feeling number 342, welcome to the front stage.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“What you are now, but keep your eyes peeled for any funny business and get proof of whatever you can. Think of yourself as my mole on the inside.”
“And what if I do find you proof? How would that keep my brother safe without incriminating him?”
“I have my ways to keep your brother safe. If you get the proof I need to take down James, I’ll ensure your brother walks away unscathed.”
“How can you promise that?”
He grins cunningly. “I can’t go giving away all my secrets now, can I?”
I rest back in my seat, eyeing him warily. He was the best chance I had right now. James was becoming more unpredictable and quick to have his little mood swings. The blood on his face yesterday solidified the fact even more to me that he was much more than I had bargained for him to be.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” I agree, although my throat wants to swallow the words back up as soon as I do. I didn’t understand why I felt so guilty when I had clearly been right about James and my brother’s compromised safety.
“I knew you’d make the right choice,” he boasts. I decided I didn’t want to stay in his presence any longer, so I stood from the stool, shrugging my jacket on.
“I guess I’ll keep you updated on what I know.”
“I’ll be in touch,” he calls as I turn and leave without another word, feeling utterly slimy. I hated how I felt like I was betraying not only my brother but also James. I don’t know why I suddenly felt obligated to him. I only got in cahoots with him for this very reason.
I think it may be because although I didn’t entirely like him…I felt as though I owed him. Because until I met him, until that moment in the elevator yesterday that I’ve been trying so hard to forget, I didn’t realize how much I had truly settled in my life and how much adventure I craved in it. James Kingston felt like an adventure—an entirely dangerous one.
I had just walked out of the elevator the following morning to head to James’s office when my phone dinged, and I looked down to see a text from an unknown number.
Unknown
Meet me downstairs. I have a car waiting for us.
“Are you kidding me?” I grumble, knowing it was most likely James. I save his number and turn straight back into the elevator. I take it back into the lobby, where I walk outside and spot James leaning against his car, smirking at me.
“I take it you knew I had just made it up?”
“I may have passed you on the way down,” he says cheekily. “You looked so determined. I didn’t want to break your stride.”
“Has anyone ever told you how kind you are?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard such words in my lifetime.”
“Maybe let that notion resonate with you a little bit then.”
“I’ll remain unbothered,” he grins, opening the door to let me inside the car. I scowl at him once more as I move past him and get inside.
“Where are we going?”
He sits down next to me and stares forward. “One of my warehouses. I want to check in on some things.”
My heart begins to beat faster in my chest. Is he checking in on his illegal shipments? Probably. Why would he care to check in on the legal stuff? This was my chance to get some more proof. I haven’t been inside the warehouse yet and was seriously curious about it.
My palms begin to sweat, and I rub them down my skirt to dry them off. James glances at me and then looks down at my hands, rubbing up and down my skirt.
“You’re nervous,” he notes.
My heart beats even faster now. “No, I’m not.”
“Your hands are sweating, are they not?”
“I’m just warm.” It was literally only fifty degrees out, but that’s beside the point.
He watches me more intently for a moment, then looks away again, but it doesn’t make me breathe any easier. This car felt stifling and small when I was sitting next to him.
Once we’re there, I nearly dash out the door, not waiting for him to let me out from his side. I suck in a lungful of the cool fall air and let it relax me as I lean against the car and stare at my feet. But then another pair of feet stopped just before mine, clad in fancy black shoes. I slowly bring my gaze up to meet James, who is now standing directly in front of me, eyeing me curiously.
“What is wrong with you today?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m just not feeling that great today. I got a little car sick.”
“Do you need to go home?”
“No,” I rush out. If I went home, I wouldn’t get the proof I needed.
“We’re going to be walking around the warehouse. It’s fairly large. Will you be all right?” His concerned question catches me off guard. It was said with little to no emotion, almost like he was asking to be polite, but still, the fact that he asked at all and is staring a hole through me as he waited for an answer was… nice… coming from him.
“I’ll be fine. I feel better now.”
He narrows his gaze on me for a little longer, then turns and walks towards the warehouse. “Follow along, little owl,” I hear him call out.
I skipped into action behind him, keeping a small distance between us because apparently something was wrong with me today, and I couldn’t handle being too close. Just like the way he towered over me the other day, caging me into my chair as he leaned in close enough that verged way past appropriate.
I should have been frightened out of my mind. The right side of his face was spattered in blood, so, of course, I was a little scared. But then he got closer, his muscular arms coming around me to lock me in place as his unique gaze pierced me with their challenge, and I couldn’t look away. All fear had been forgotten. I could only focus on him, and the way he made me squirm with what I assumed was fear, but once he had moved away…I realized wasn’t fear at all but something else that disappointed me in his departure.
And don’t even get me started about that moment in the elevator. These are all just happenstances that I’m choosing to ignore.
I was officially going mad. Maybe that’s what happens working at Labyrinth Crystal. Everyone goes mad. Maybe my brother has gone mad. I think James has been a little mad for a long time now.
We walked inside, and it was not at all what I had expected it to be. Where I thought would be crazy conveyor belts and tired workers setting necklaces in boxes and people wrapping them after being surrounded by endless packaging everywhere, there were just rows and rows of acrylic shelving like at a department store with endless amounts of crystals and jewelry being displayed on them, ready for assembling and picking.
It was sparkling everywhere I looked. Everything was neatly placed and handled by workers who walked to shelves, selected their items, and took them to their own table, where they neatly hand-wrapped and boxed everything.
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me as I spin around, twinkles of crystal catching my eye every which way. I feel a presence at my side, and I look over, seeing James watching me, his mouth twitching as if he were trying to fight one of his famous smirks.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“It’s incredible,” I say honestly.
He purses his lips as if trying to keep his smile from widening. “Let me show you around,” he says, holding his hand out to mine. I look down at it, feeling my stomach flip, and before I give myself a chance to think about it, I place my hand in his and let him lead me down the endless aisles. “I recall you saying you don’t like jewelry?”
“Not really,” I admit.
“What’s the necklace you’re wearing?”
I look down at my necklace that sits neatly over my collarbone. “It was a gift from my mother when I was a kid. I always wear it.”
He stops next to me, looking down at it. “Is it a bear?”
I giggle, fingering it with my other hand, not intertwined with his. “It’s a teddy bear. She got it for me because she knew how much I liked them. I had a collection of teddy bears named after my favorite fairytale characters.”
“Ah, so you believe in fairytales?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe once upon a time, I did. Now…I don’t know.”
He silently gazes at me, and I look down at my feet, feeling like I said something stupid. “You need to quit doing that,” he says, returning my attention to him.
“Doing what?”
“Every time you speak your mind about anything remotely deep, you look down to the floor.”
“So what?” I respond, feeling more embarrassed now. I hated how weak I felt sometimes.
“So,” he says, stepping in front of me, using his free hand to lift my chin. “Look up when you speak. Don’t let anyone make you feel what you have to say isn’t worthwhile.”
I’m not sure why, but I have to swallow back a knot that has begun to form in my throat. For so long, I’d felt lost in the blur of the world, whether it was taking care of my brother and dad, running the library, or using all my strength to try and commit to Lance because I knew nothing else but him. I always feel like I’m doing everything for everyone else and not paying attention to me at all. I didn’t stop to think about what I wanted, how I felt, or what I wanted to say until I met James. For someone so corrupt and unapproachable, he brings everything out of me that I never knew was locked inside. He makes it matter even when most of it is hostility directed towards him.
“Be careful, James,” I murmur, trying to distract myself from the chasm opening in my chest. “You might fool me into thinking you actually care about me.”
He grins, pulling his hand away from me but squeezing my other tighter in his other hand. “Mr. Kingston,” he corrects me.
I can’t help but smirk as he pulls on my hand again, leading me further inside the warehouse until we’re near the back, where there’s hardly anyone around. He stops just in front of a display holding pieces I don’t think are meant to be picked and taken out of here.
“Do you know what these are?” he asks, looking back at me.
“They look like raw crystals,” I answer, observing them. So many protruded like towers from a bed of even more sparkling crystal rock beneath it. There were small ones that I could fit in the palm of my hand and large ones that were nearly the size of my head. “I didn’t know you guys sold stuff like this.”
“We don’t. This is a personal purchase I’ve recently acquired.”
“Oh, so you have a thing for testing out the merchandise?” I say slyly.
He chuckles. “I have a thing for crystals.”
“You prefer these over the haughty jewelry you make with them?”
“I do. They’re imperfect and natural. They haven’t been faceted into something perfect that everyone wants to flash on their bodies. Only few will appreciate its raw beauty just as it comes.”
“Wow,” I breathe out, his words sparking emotion inside me. “That’s actually kind of a beautiful way to look at them.”
He glances at me. “It’s how I wish people would look at other people in life,” he admits.
I meet his gaze, that chasm I felt earlier feels like it’s growing bigger in my chest. “Is that how you wish people would look at you?”
His jaw clenched, and he tears his gaze away from me. “I don’t care how people look at me. It’s just the principle. Everyone has flaws, but no one ever chooses to love them along with the whole person. They only love the perfect things when love means loving the imperfect.”
Understanding hits me now, and I look at him in a new light. “That’s why you think love is bullshit? You think it’s all vain.”
He looks back at me. “Perhaps.”
The idea saddened me because although I hardly had any examples, I didn’t think that was true about love. I focus back on the crystals before me and look down to the bottom shelf, seeing a round shimmering ball. I kneeled, inspecting it more, and unable to help myself, I picked it up.
“What’s this?” I ask, scanning its round iciness.
“It’s a crystal ball,” he answers, eyeing it in my hands.
I smile up at him. “Do you think it can tell us the future?”
He grins. “If you’re a witch. Are you a witch, Cecilia?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Why would you ask me such a thing?”
“I’ve wondered on occasion,” he quips. I laugh again and set the ball back down on the bottom shelf, but when I stand up, I smack my head on the corner of the top shelf. The crystals on the shelf bounce as I do, and one sways, nearly tipping over the edge. James’s hands spring out, grabbing the top of my head and holding it just as his other catches the nearly fallen crystal.
“Jesus, are you okay?” he rushes out, holding my head against his chest. I couldn’t answer him right now. Not because I was hurt. I actually couldn’t feel any pain because he was holding me so tight against his chest, and he smelled like warm amber and something fresh like rain. It was intoxicating. He pulls me from his chest, keeping both hands on the sides of my face now as he looks me straight into my eyes. “Answer me, babe. Did you hit it hard?”
“No,” I stammer, feeling as though I’ve never learned to speak before. The way his eyes were on me, warm and full of concern, was enough to clutter my brain entirely because it was the first time I’d ever seen them light that way.
He stares at me for a moment longer, then his right hand slowly traces up my face, caressing my cheekbone and making me suck in a breath at the softness of it. His hand glides into my hair, his eyes still penetrating me as they do, and I can’t seem to look away and break the connection. His hand caressed my head exactly where I hit it, and he made a humming noise.
“There’s no bump, thankfully.”
“Oh,” I murmur because, again, I could barely speak. He hasn’t moved his hand from my hair yet, though. His eyes move to it now, following his hand as it glides through my curls. I feel the sweep of his thumb stroke my scalp as the rest of his fingers softly grip at my strands. It takes everything in me not to groan in pleasure because it feels so good.
“Your hair,” he whispers, so low that I’m not sure he even really said it. It’s all he says, though. Nothing else, and I’m not sure what he means by it.
My phone ringing in my purse blasts through the silent tension between us, and I jump, looking down at my purse where the noise is coming from. James doesn’t let go of me, though. I didn’t realize until now that his other hand had dropped from my face and was resting on my hip as his other hand remained entangled in my hair.
The sensation immediately made me hot and slightly panicked, so I decided to fish my phone out of my purse to distract myself from the whirlwind of emotions I was feeling.
“It’s my brother,” I panic when I see his name on my screen.
“Answer it,” James says lowly.
My eyes snap to his. “What? I thought you said he didn’t know we were together?” I don’t mean for together to come out like it does, but I’m hoping he knows what I mean.
He smirked at me and licked his lips, and I swallowed hard as I watched the motion. “Answer it,” he demands.
I slowly hit the answer button and bring my phone to my ear. “Hello,” I answer hesitantly. My brother's voice filters through the phone, but I can’t hear anything he’s saying because James’s hand is now falling through my hair, tugging on the ends of it as he does. “Oh…I’m at work,” I tell Tobias after he asks where I am. James' smirk intensifies as his other hand tightens on my waist, and a horrible yet pleasurable feeling ignites in my stomach as he does. “You stopped at the library?” I squeak as his hand falls from my hair and slowly traces down my arm. I look up at James, feeling panicked and slightly dizzy from his sudden affection.
“Lie to him,” he whispers.
“Uh…I must have been out getting lunch,” I tell Tobias hesitantly. My stomach flips at the way James appears pleased, and then his hand traces back up my arm and slowly tickles over my collarbone. It feels as if he’s slowly pulling the oxygen from my lungs. He picks up the charm of my necklace in his fingers, eyeing it more carefully now. “Yeah…I’ll call you when I’m home tonight,” I rush out, quickly ending the call with my brother.
Neither of us says anything now that it’s just us again. His hand feels like hot coal resting over my chest, and for some reason, I don’t want him to pull away.
“I wonder what you’d look like draped in my finest crystals,” he murmurs, eyeing my necklace.
“I don’t think I’d like it,” I admit.
“I would,” he replies as he lets go of me and steps back. It’s like I’m suddenly wrapped in an arctic chill now that he’s not close. “Follow this way. We have more stuff to check in on,” he says, putting his back to me and walking back down the aisle. I’m left too rattled for the rest of our time here to gain a single ounce of evidence against him.