Chapter 60
CHAPTER 60
BETH
N olan Gray had the contract sent over to my father’s business attorney, Warren, before morning, and the call of concern I got from Warren was completely warranted. I explained everything to him in detail and told him the terms I wanted to make sure were included in the agreement. He agreed to go through the contract and check for anything he would see as more of a red flag than the generalized terms I gave him.
I want to make sure that no matter what, the heir I produce for the Gray family will always be cared for financially. They don’t have to touch the Gray money if he or she doesn’t want to. My child will receive a trust fund that they can access once they turn eighteen and a separate college fund. Once the timeline for the contract is up, I will have no contact with Michael or Nolan unless it's through my children. If, at any point, the Gray family breaks their part of the bargain, their entire fortune will be split up between the Bastards, and their businesses liquidated.
I expect Nolan will be pissed, but I need to ensure this deal has as many benefits as possible. I’m signing my life away, after all.
Like Martin said.
Hit him where it hurts.
I have a meeting with Nolan Gray and his attorney in three days for our little mediation. Then, I’ll sign the contract later in the day.
However, I can’t relax.
I pace back and forth in Nigel’s room as I toss random things in my duffle bag, knowing that I won’t be welcome once Nigel is released. Ollie said Nigel would understand eventually, but I’m not so sure that’s true. He’s too stubborn to listen to reason, but he needs to find out everything directly from me.
I drop my makeup bag into the duffle as the door opens, and Judy steps inside before glancing between me and the bag with shock.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, completely taken aback.
“I’m packing my things.” I haven’t told Judy, Aimee, or any of the guys about the deal I made. The only ones who know are Martin and Ollie.
“Why? Do you seriously think that the guys will kick you out just because Nigel is in jail? You’re one of us, Bee!”
“Nigel may be in jail right now, but he’s going to be released in three days. When he is, he won’t want me here anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” Judy throws her arms around me and pulls me tight into her.
“I made a deal with the Gray patriarch to get him out of jail.” Her body stiffens against me, but she doesn’t move. “I have to marry Michael and give them an heir . If I didn’t make that deal, Nigel would probably be dead right now. Nolan Gray wanted him dead, and I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen.”
“Oh my god,” she mumbles before hugging me tighter. “It’s okay. What you did was very brave and selfless.”
“There’s more,” my voice cracks through the tears.
“What else?” Judy slowly pulls back and looks up at me with glassy eyes.
“I’m pregnant.”
She gasps and slams her hands over her mouth from the bomb I just dropped.
“And…I don’t know…who the father is.”
She blanches. “What? How could you not know who the father is? You and Nigel have been together since you moved to town. I know you and Oliver had a thing for a bit, but–”
I take a deep breath before sitting on the edge of the bed beside my duffle bag. “It was more than a thing for a bit and, during the week I was gone, I was with Martin.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “Martin! As in Martin Gray, the person Nigel hates more than anyone else on the planet, the one involved in the accident? That Martin? Please, tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. Do I look like I’m laughing?”
She laughs as she runs a hand down her face. “I mean, you only did it once, right? What’s the likelihood that the baby is actually his?”
“It was definitely way more than once. The likelihood is actually pretty high since it was two months ago and I was having sex with only him for a week straight, dozens of times.”
The look on Judy’s face when she hears the ballpark number is worrisome. She’s so pale and looks ready to faint.
“Oh, my god.” She presses the back of her palm to her forehead dramatically. “Well, does he know about the baby?”
“Oliver, yes. Martin, no. I couldn’t tell him without knowing if the baby is his and as for Nigel… I don’t want the baby to be his and I know that sounds horrible. I want to keep the baby, but I don’t have any confidence that he would actually be a good father and a baby would just keep me around him. I’ve written myself into a corner with this deal and don’t know what to do. I’m having a baby and?—”
“Okay. Calm down.” Judy sits beside me and takes my hand, rubbing soothing circles on my palm. “First off, when does the deal go into effect?” I explain that bit to her, and she nods. “We’ll have them delay the wedding until after you give birth. We’ll leave town before you start showing, and you’ll have the baby away from Grove Hill. I’ll take care of your baby until your deal is done.”
My heart gallops as I stare at her, baffled. “No, I couldn’t ask you to do something like that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering . You’re my friend, and what you’re doing isn’t easy, but I’m here to help you. No matter what you need, I’m here. I’ll be your secret keeper, your tear dryer, and your needs meeter.”
I laugh. “Needs meeter? That’s not a thing.”
“We’ll make it a thing! I’ve got your back, and…you look like you’re about to puke.”
Now that she mentions it, I do feel nauseous, but I’ll be fine. Judy is right. We’ll make it through this, and she’s my best friend. She’ll see me through everything, and I’ll do the same.
I have a small village at my back, ready to hold my hand and make a stand for me.
* * *
Sitting on the couch with a steaming cup of hot tea, I slowly stir the spoon covered in honey, enjoying how silent the house is at three in the morning. Ronan and Judy are passed out in his room. Perla and Charlie went out of town on a romantic getaway. Oisin and Arely are crashing at her place.
I have no clue if Ollie is here or if he left, and I honestly don’t want to know. The last time I got nosy about what he was doing was when I ended up hanging off a bridge.
I have three days until Nigel is freed, and then I’ll be preparing mentally to marry Michael Gray. There isn’t room in any of that for my love of Oliver Doyle. Using the L word where he is concerned doesn’t even make sense. Doesn’t part of being a psychopath mean they can’t feel those kinds of emotions?
Taking a small sip from my mug, I hum as the warm liquid slides down my throat.
“You’re up late.”
Looking up, I take in the sight of Ollie leaning against the edge of the hall, his arms crossed over his chest, his icy blues dancing up and down my body. I probably should’ve covered up, especially considering he’s staring at my tits nearly busting out of my camisole. My boobs shouldn’t be getting bigger already, right?
What does it say about me that I can’t detach my eyes from the bulge in his sleep pants or the way the bare V of his hips is like a neon sign directed at that massive joystick of his?
Fuck. I need to get laid. I haven’t had sex since before the accident, and it’s abundantly clear that my sex drive can’t take the lack of attention.
“Have you been in your room all day?” I ask, my breath coming out in sharp pants.
“Yup,” he mutters as he slowly walks toward me, his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Why?”
His chest rises and falls rapidly, even as he sits beside me and leans into my ear. “So I don’t rip off your clothes and seat you on my dick while you scream so loud the very foundation of this house shudders in pleasure with you. You’re still recovering from the accident after all.”
A moan falls from my lips without permission, but Oliver doesn’t touch me. He fills me with anticipation as his fingers barely avoid my skin as he teases me with his near touch, tracing the air that separates his skin from mine. His hand roams down my arm, over my stomach and my breasts, and my breath hitches at how he doesn’t lay a finger on me.
“I can’t wait to touch you again, to feel you tremble beneath my fingers. It’s been so hard not to put my hands on you, especially when you look at me like you want nothing more than for me to kiss you, to fuck you, to make you mine .” He growls the final word, and my core quakes in anticipation as I turn my head, gazing into his beautiful eyes.
“I always want that,” I admit, my breasts heaving with how full of lust I am for him.
When these next few days are over, there will be nothing stopping him from fucking me straight into my deathbed…until the wedding. Hell, maybe even after that. Nowhere in that contract stated that I had to be faithful to Michael, just that I don’t publicly embarrass him by causing a scandal.
That’s rather easy.
I’m good at keeping secrets.
“I know you do. I can taste how bad you want me, and…it’s fucking delicious.” His lips barely hover above mine, and I can taste the bourbon on his breath as his hot breath ghosts across my flesh.
“Oliver,” I whimper from how needy I am for him, for his touch.
“I want you to know, crazy girl, that I’m going to go back to my room. As soon as I’m in there, I’m going to whip out my cock and fuck my hand. I’m going to get off imagining your dick-sucking lips wrapped around my shaft and you worshiping me. I can see it right now, how enthusiastic you would be about sucking my cock.”
My thighs rub together because I really want to do that.
“Sounds like quite the fantasy,” I mutter, trying like hell not to moan like a pornstar when he’s not even touching me.
“Not a fantasy. It’s a reality that hasn’t happened yet. I’m going to put you on your knees. You will open your mouth and beg for my cock. You’ll thank me when I come down your throat and spit in your mouth for added measure.”
My heart, brain, and lungs stopped working simultaneously, and I swear, if the house phone hadn’t started ringing right then, I would’ve dropped to my knees right there and made all of that a reality.
Holy fuck. His dirty words are kerosene to my lust. They turn me into a woman I don’t recognize.
Jumping up from my seat, I race across the room to escape the undertow that’s dragging me into Oliver’s aura and hurry to pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I gasp as I press the phone to my ear.
“Hello. You have a collect call from Grove Hill City Jail from...” My jaw drops, but a smile pulls at my lips when I hear his voice.
“Nigel O’Reilly.”
“To accept the charges–”
“Yes, I accept them!” I nearly scream into the phone even though I know that won’t make the automated message run faster.
I expected to have more time before telling him what was going to happen, but I’m so happy I can hear his voice and know he’s still alive. I’m not his family, so I wouldn’t be notified if something terrible happened to him, and honestly, I wouldn’t put it past Aimee to hide it from me if he got hurt or worse.
“Hello?” His voice comes through, and tears prick my eyes.
“Nigel! What are you doing calling so late? I wouldn’t think you’d have phone privileges at this time,” I say before looking at Oliver, who is standing behind me. Instantly, I switch it to speaker phone so Oliver can have the chance to talk to Nigel, too.
“Yeah, I know. I was just pulled from my room in the general pop unit. They said I’m being moved to solitary. Apparently, they’ve received orders from high up. Do you have any clue what’s going on?”
My head snaps around as a grin pulls across my lips. Even though I haven’t signed the contract, it seems Nolan is taking precautions to make sure Nigel makes it to being released. Oliver wraps his arms around me in a hug.
“A lot has happened, but you’re being released in a few days,” Ollie explains before releasing his hold on me.
“Wait, is that Ollie?”
“Yeah. He’s right here.” There’s a long pause, and my eyebrows furrow. “Nigel?”
“Babe, I can barely hear you.” What the hell is going on?
“Can you hear me now?”
“Kind of. Did Ollie say I’m being released?”
“Yeah. It will be a few days, but…” I trail off when the sound of a click comes through the phone before the incessant beeping lets me know the call has ended. I have no clue what happened, and that scares the fuck out of me. Is he okay? Did we lose signal, or did he hang up?
I hate the unknown.
“He’s okay,” Oliver whispers in my ear as he throws his arms around me and hugs me back into him. “They transferred him to solitary. He’ll be safe there until after your mediation.”
“What if he isn’t?” I’m so emotional that his embrace offers little comfort, but I take it.
* * *
Warren sits beside me in the mediation room as we wait for Nolan and his attorney to arrive. I know this is an odd circumstance, and my demands could potentially backfire on me. Nolan could pull out on our bargain, but I have to try. I need to make sure I’m getting my time’s worth out of this. Not just for me but also for everyone I care about.
“Are you sure about this? You can back out at any time if you don’t feel right about this,” Warren offers in his gravelly voice before placing a sympathetic hand on my arm.
“I don’t feel right about it,” I whisper, and he moves to stand up, but I don't let him get that far. “I have to do this. I have people counting on me, people I care about and need to keep safe. Just understand that I need this to happen even if I don’t like it.”
Warren stares at me, his brown eyes searching mine, before he nods, sitting back in his seat.
“I’ll negotiate the best deal I can for you.”
With a small smile to Warren, I pull out my phone and text my biggest supporter.
Bethany:
Tell me I’m doing the right thing here.
A moment passes before a text comes through.
Oliver:
Do you want the truth, or do you want me to validate you?
A smirk rises across my face at his attempt to mildly distract me.
Bethany:
The truth. You know I can’t get enough of you riding my ass.
My eyes widen after the text is sent, and I realize how that would sound. I press my hand to my cheek, feeling the skin heat up from embarrassment.
Bethany:
Get your mind out of the gutter. I didn't mean it like that.
Oliver:
Are you sure? I’m up for riding your ass. I’m eager to try out a few new positions.
My cheeks clench, and my emotional high from talking to him soars.
Oliver:
You’re doing what you can. I don’t want you to do it. I want you to live your life the way you choose, not having to obey the commands of assholes like Nolan. I want you to be true to yourself, but we all know there is no other way to get Nigel out of there. If it’s worth it to you, that’s all that matters.
Oliver:
I trust whatever choice you make. If you choose to do this, I’ve got your back, and eventually, so will Nigel.
My chest swells with gratitude and love from how well he knows me and how Oliver knows what I need to hear to make it through this meeting.
The door behind me slides open, and my neck swivels to watch as Nolan and who I can only assume is his lawyer–a man only a few years older than me in a suit way too big for his lanky frame–strolls into the room like they own the world and we are merely an inconvenience.
I barely hold in the vomit rising up my throat from seeing them, or maybe that’s just morning sickness. Fuck if I know. They feel the same to me.
“Good morning, Miss Mercer, Mr. Conway,” the attorney mutters as they sit across from us, and the lawyer holds a single file folder in his hands, plopping it down on the desk.
“Mr. Gray, Mr. Strong,” Warren responds before sitting up in his chair, back straightening to convey power. “I see you’ve gone through my client’s demands of the agreement. My notes were thorough, and I want you to know we will not budge on a single one. Your client is asking a lot of her, and she deserves way more than the initial contract stated–”
“I know your whole spiel, Warren, but your client came to my client of her own free will. She can walk away at any time. She asked my client for a favor. Your additions to this agreement are absolute–” Nolan cuts off his attorney.
“Shut your pie hole, Mr. Strong,” he mutters with amusement. “I’m fine with Miss Mercer’s demands with the exception of one, which I would like an answer as to why before I agree to it.”
The room falls silent as Nolan looks directly at me. His sapphire eyes study me like it’s a sport to him.
“What condition is that?” I ask, my voice meeker than I intended.
With a grin in place, he questions, “Why do you want me to hand over my entire fortune, my entire life’s work, and my father’s work to the heathens that run about unchecked in this town if I don’t keep up my end of the deal? What is the point?”
The truth is simple. It was Martin’s advice. He said Nolan would only abide by a rule if it would cost him financially.
“It’s simple for such a complex question,” I murmur before meeting his eyes. Then, I continue with a calm, collected voice. “It’s the only way to ensure you keep up your end of the bargain and all of my other demands. You don’t care for much, but you do love your wealth and your company. I have my reasons to keep my end of the bargain, but this will ensure you and Michael make sure the Bastards never have to deal with something like this again. I’m protecting my investment. My people will be untouchable, and that’s how I want it.”
Nolan doesn’t move, cower, or scowl at me, but for a few minutes, he just stares at me. The clock’s ticks on the wall are the loudest thing in this room until the tip of Nolan’s lip turns up, and he slowly nods.
“As you wish, Miss Mercer. I like your guts, but if you have that guarantee of yours, I have one of my own.” Then, he snaps his fingers, his expression exuding boredom.
Mr. Strong opens the folder in his hands and pulls out what looks like a stack of photo paper before handing it to Nolan.
“You should really be more careful when committing crimes that could get you the death penalty in this state,” he mutters before tossing them on the table, the images spreading around the mahogany-stained surface. The heat drains from my body, my flesh dampens from the panic filling me.
The pictures…they’re of me and Ollie in Hempstead. Outside Aimee’s old house, Ollie handing me a gun and tucking one in his pocket. Us walking up to the house. Us leaving the house with streaks of blood on us.
There weren’t supposed to be any cameras nearby. There didn’t used to be.
“It’s easy to persuade drug dealers to relinquish access to their security cameras with just a little cash. It almost took the fun out of getting this leverage against you, Miss Mercer.”
My head snaps up as I flip the pictures over. “Let me guess. If I withdraw from the agreement, you turn these over to the authorities. That’s so original, Mr. Gray.” I try to sound strong and unaffected, but on the inside, I’m panicking.
This just dragged Oliver into this, and I need him not to be in it. It’s bad enough that Nigel and Martin are in danger.
“That would be too simplistic. I don’t need evidence to get the police to do what I say. All I have to do is make a call, and Mr. Doyle will be arrested. I’d have him put down while in holding before his first visitation, and it would be lights out for him,” Nolan mutters without even blinking.
He’s the real psychopath, not Oliver.
How could he talk about his nephew like that? It’s as if he has no compassion or care at all.
“But, you wouldn’t let that happen if you could help it. You’re in love with Mr. Doyle and Mr. O’Reilly, and all you want is for both of them to be safe. If you sign the contract and agree to the terms, they will be, and you can continue your little arrangement with them behind closed doors for all I care. As long as you only have children by my son throughout your marriage, I won’t have an issue with it. Discretion is our family motto, Miss Mercer. Now, do we have a deal?”
That answers one question. Even if this baby is Martin’s, it won’t matter to Nolan. As long as the baby isn’t Michael’s, he’ll take issue with it and he’ll do the same thing to me he tried to do to Casey. My baby won’t be safe.
There is no room for argument. Sure, I could throw a fit and tear apart the photos, but I bet he has copies, and Ollie would be arrested before I could warn him.
“We have a deal, Mr. Gray. Update the contract, and I’ll sign it.”