Chapter Three The Club, the Trap, and the Almost Kiss #4
“Don’t push it.”
His mouth almost curved.
It made her madder.
She shoved a finger into his chest. “You are arrogant, controlling, secretive, and way too comfortable threatening women in parking lots.”
He looked down at her finger, then back at her. “Sidewalk.”
“What?”
“It was a sidewalk.”
Makayla’s mouth opened.
Then she shoved him again.
This time, Jarvis caught her wrist.
Not rough.
Firm.
Her breath caught for a different reason.
The room changed.
All at once.
The anger stayed, but something hot slid underneath it. Something that had been stalking them since the rain outside her apartment.
Jarvis looked at her mouth.
Makayla saw it.
She should have pulled away.
She didn’t.
Instead, she stepped closer, close enough that her chest almost brushed his.
“Let go,” she said.
He did.
Immediately.
His hand opened.
But Makayla did not move back.
Jarvis’s eyes darkened.
“Makayla,” he said, warning in her name.
“Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you know what I’m thinking.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“You’re thinking this is a bad idea.”
Her pulse jumped.
“You’re thinking I’m the last man you should want near you.”
She swallowed.
“You’re thinking if I touch you again, you might let me.”
Makayla hated him.
She hated him so much.
So she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down.
The kiss never happened.
It came close enough to ruin the air.
Their mouths were a breath apart when the door opened.
Trevon’s voice cut through the room.
“Boss.”
Makayla jumped back like Jarvis had burned her.
Jarvis closed his eyes for half a second.
Trevon stood in the doorway, gaze moving from Makayla to Jarvis to the broken glass to the white linen around her arm.
His expression stayed professional, but his silence was disrespectful.
Makayla pointed at him. “Say nothing.”
Trevon nodded. “I planned to.”
Jarvis’s voice was rougher than usual. “What?”
Trevon lifted the flash drive in a plastic evidence bag. “You need to see this.”
Makayla’s body went cold again. “What is it?”
Trevon looked at Jarvis.
Makayla snapped, “We are done with that.”
Trevon sighed. “There’s a folder on the drive.”
“What folder?”
Trevon held up the bag.
Written on the side of the flash drive in tiny white letters was one word.
SERRIN
Makayla’s throat tightened.
Jarvis took the bag, face hard.
Trevon continued, “Inside it, there’s a zipped file labeled SERRIN_FINAL_DROP.”
Makayla gripped the edge of a shelf.
Jarvis saw and stepped closer, but did not touch her.
“Anything else?” Jarvis asked.
Trevon’s face darkened. “Yes. There’s also a payment agreement draft. It names Makayla as the recipient. Looks like they planned to make it seem like you paid her to delete the post and clear your name.”
Makayla whispered, “They were going to plant it on me.”
Trevon nodded. “Or force you to carry it.”
Jarvis looked toward the hallway. “Where’s Calia?”
“Gone,” Trevon said. “Renzo too.”
Makayla pushed away from the shelf. “Vasha?”
“Safe. Shaken, but safe. She said Renzo saw the guards move and left through the kitchen.”
Jarvis cursed under his breath.
Makayla stared at the flash drive. “What’s in the final drop?”
Trevon hesitated.
Jarvis said, “Say it.”
Trevon looked at Makayla, and for the first time since she met him, his face softened.
“Files on you. Amira. Your aunt. Your mother. Old court notes. Screenshots from Dirty Little Proof. Draft posts that make you look like you planned to blackmail Jarvis.”
Makayla’s ears rang.
She could feel the room, but it seemed far away.
“They built a whole story,” she said.
Jarvis’s voice came low beside her. “Yes.”
“To make me the villain.”
“Yes.”
Makayla laughed once. The sound came out empty.
“All this time I thought I was holding the receipts.”
She looked up at Jarvis.
“They were holding mine.”
Nobody spoke.
The music outside kept playing, cheerful and careless, like the world had not cracked open behind a green door.
Makayla took the flash drive from Jarvis’s hand.
He let her.
She held it up, staring at her last name.
Serrin.
Her family reduced to a label on somebody else’s dirty little weapon.
Something cold settled inside her.
Cleaner than rage.
Sharper than fear.
Jarvis watched her face. “What are you thinking?”
Makayla closed her fist around the bag.
“I’m thinking Calia should have kept running.”
Trevon’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Jarvis studied her, and that dangerous almost-smile returned.
“You got a plan?”
Makayla looked toward the hallway where Calia and Renzo had escaped.
“No,” she said. “I got a lesson.”
Jarvis stepped closer. “For who?”
Makayla looked at him then, really looked at him.
The man who threatened her.
The man who watched her.
The man who caught her before someone dragged her into a darker room.
The man she almost kissed because hate had gotten too hot to hold.
“For everybody,” she said. “Starting with whoever thought I was the easiest woman in Morrow Bay to break.”
Jarvis’s eyes held hers.
For once, he did not tell her to calm down.
For once, he did not tell her to wait.
He only nodded.
“Then let’s teach.”