Deception, p.10
Deception, page 10
Her features harden and her voice is shrill. “This isn’t a joke, idiot. He’s… You just don’t understand.” Panic ripples over her making her eyes dart toward the door and her body tremble.
I follow her stare to the doorway. As soon as a man enters the space, the warmth of the room is sucked out. A bone-deep chill creeps its way inside me. Based on the way Landry shudders, I’d say she feels it too.
He’s the typical rich prick in an expensive suit. His arrogance is stifling. As though I’m supposed to take one look at him and bow at his feet. I can’t stand assholes like this. They act like they’re gods.
Reminds me of Winston Constantine.
The chill inside me is quickly doused in gasoline. I light the match, feeling the burn of hatred all the way down to my toes, and face the man, showing him I’m not afraid of him. I hope my expression implies I’d rather kick his ass.
“Landry, sweetheart. Who is this?” He’s glaring at me, but speaking to his daughter in a cold, clipped tone. “I said—”
“Ford Mann. He’s Della’s tutor.” Landry closes her eyes for a moment and then I watch her transform into someone else—someone regal and sure of herself. Someone brave and not at all timid. “She’s already learned so much, Dad. I was just discussing her progress with Mr. Mann.”
I have the urge to laugh, because my lips weren’t discussing anything. I was tasting and exploring. My fingers still tingle with the way her lacy bra felt against my skin.
“Her tutor,” Alexander parrots, his hard glare assessing me from head to toe. “Hmm.”
Landry giggles—girlish and sweet. What the actual fuck?
“Della’s a quick study,” I say, turning on the charm I’ve seen Sparrow use on people countless times. “Surprised the hell out of me.”
“Where is the studious child?” Alexander asks, cutting his eyes to his daughter.
Landry, to her credit, doesn’t falter at his angry tone. Her smile broadens and she regards her father like he hangs the fucking moon. Again…what the actual fuck? Before she can answer, the child in question stomps into the room, scowling with Sandra pulling up the rear.
“Mr. Croft,” Sandra says, a polite smile on her face. “Lovely to see you so early from the office. Can I fetch you a drink?”
This show these women are putting on for this man is nauseating.
“I can grab it for you,” Landry says, taking hold of her father’s elbow. “Plus, I wanted to run some party ideas by you. Come on. We’ll leave them to finish up their lesson.”
Alexander stares at me for a beat longer before allowing his daughter to whisk him from the room. Sandra scurries after, clearly eager to dump the kid back off on me. Della glowers after them.
I tap her shoulder and wait for her to look at me before saying, “Dummy.”
Her lips quirk into a small smile and then she signs back, dummy. At least Della and I have a common enemy. I know why I don’t like the guy, but her? I’ll get to the bottom of it. Pulling out my phone, I shoot my brothers a quick text.
Me: There’s something up with the dad. A real prick. The kid doesn’t like him.
Sparrow: You think he hit Landry?
Scout: Seems obvious to me.
Me: I don’t know. We need to find out. She didn’t tell him she knew me from school.
Sparrow: Because she doesn’t know YOU from school.
Me: Fuck off. You know what I mean. Ford. She didn’t mention knowing Ford from class.
Scout: Daddy’s girl has secrets.
Yeah, she does. And we’re going to uncover each one of them. Because it’s our job—to meddle in people’s lives and fuck shit up. We’re really good at it, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Landry
Away. Away. Away.
That’s all that was going through my mind as I ushered Dad out of Della’s classroom and over to the living room bar. By habit, I glance out the panoramic windows, my go-to escape, but his ominous reflection has me jerking my attention back down to the bar top. I don’t want him seeing the desperation in my eyes. My mindless chatting seems fake and slightly shrill from nerves, but Dad doesn’t appear to notice. He watches me intently as I pour him a glass of wine. I can’t stop the trembling of my hands, nearly sloshing wine all over the place. Sucking in a deep breath, I attempt to slow my speeding heart and relax.
He reacted horribly to Ty’s friendliness. I can only imagine what he’d do if he knew Della’s tutor just had his hand up my shirt.
Heat races over my skin, scorching a crimson path. Quickly, I hand Dad his glass and then try to change the subject to anything but the man in the other room.
I can’t believe I let him touch me. Kiss my neck. Play a dangerous game in my own house. So reckless and stupid. Ford Mann tears down my defenses so easily. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
“What do you think you’ll be?” Dad asks, drawing my attention from thoughts of Ford to him. “Have you decided?”
“Della wants me to be Little Red Riding Hood and she wants to be the Big Bad Wolf.”
“You do look lovely in red, sweetheart. And Della can be quite feral.”
I laugh at his joke. Though it’s true and probably said as an insult, he says it almost lovingly. I’ll take that over his cruelty toward her any day.
“Are you inviting the entire city again?” I tease, earning a genuine smile from him. “Last time, I’m pretty sure you let anyone in.”
Dad chuckles. “I learned from that mistake. I didn’t get to enjoy myself because I had to make too many rounds. This time, I’ve asked my assistant to send invites to my birthday party to an exclusive, intimate list of names. All influential people, of course. Quite a few Constantines.”
Tension snaps each one of my muscles taut. I can’t help but think of the way he struck me. All because I was chatty with Ty. Will that happen again? I feel like he wants me to be two different people.
Two different people.
Kind of like Ford. I wonder how he turns it on and off because he was a completely different person this afternoon than at school.
Maybe his secrets are like mine. Painful. Hard to swallow. Frankly, humiliating.
It makes me want to sneak away with him, snuggle close, and beg for him to tell me all about what dark shadows are in his world. Then, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
There’s definitely more to Ford than meets the eye.
“Hey,” Dad murmurs, setting his glass down on the bar top. “Walk with me.”
His hand slides to the small of my back and he guides me through the living room to the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony. We step outside and the oppressive air that always suffocating me dissipates, momentarily getting carried away by the breeze. It’s fairly windy today, but at least it’s warm. I bask in the sunlight for a moment, closing my eyes and letting it wash over me to chase away the chill.
“I’m a terrible father.” His voice cracks, showing rare vulnerability. “Last night…I was drunk.”
Drunk.
I grab onto the railing to steady myself. My eyes snap open and I grit my teeth. The things he does when he’s drunk are unforgiveable.
“Landry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you.” He lets out a pained sound that cuts through me like a knife. “If your mother knew what a bastard I can be when I drink too much, she’d haunt me and push me off this balcony.”
“It’s fine,” I lie.
“No. It’s not fine.” He grips my shoulders and turns me to face him. “You’re my daughter. My beautiful, brilliant, perfect daughter. It was wrong. I hurt you and I’m sick about it.”
“I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
Guilt shines in his eyes but he doesn’t look away. I’m glad he’s facing what he’s done. He inspects my cheek, the bruising covered well under layers of makeup.
“You didn’t make me mad,” he murmurs, brows furling. “It’s just…It’s hard watching my little girl grow up into a woman. Seeing you with Ty Constantine—so happy and carefree—felt like you were being taken from me. You’ve always been mine. And now…”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him vehemently. I’ll never leave Della alone.
His expression softens. He kisses me on the forehead. “You will one day. Ty isn’t a bad guy. I actually like him. With his family name, bright future ahead of him, and the way he was so enamored with you, I think he’d be worthy of dating you.”
“But, Dad—”
“He’s a good man, sweetheart. You deserve someone good.”
I nod and smile at him.
“Am I forgiven?”
“Of course.” I drop my stare to the tight knot of his tie. “I was upset, but I’ll be all right.”
“That’s my good girl.”
His phone rings, thankfully saving me from anymore of this conversation. He shoots me an apologetic smile before taking the call, leaving me on the balcony alone. My thoughts quickly escape those of my father and sneak back to the man teaching my sister.
Ford.
His lips were so hot on my neck. I’d nearly melted into him when he sucked on my skin. A thrill shoots through me wondering if there will be a hickey left on my neck. Just one more bruise to hide with makeup. But this one, at least, is one I enjoyed receiving.
God, this is such a problem.
Ford is such a problem.
When he was being an arrogant prick, it was easy to keep him at arm’s length. But, today at school, and then just now when we were alone, I didn’t want to leave his arms at all. I wanted to throw myself into them and take solace in his strength.
This isn’t one of Della’s storybooks, though.
This is my life. There isn’t a heroic prince to save me from my prison tower. I’m the hero, and I have to figure out a way to save the little princess before the villainous king has both our heads.
I slip back inside and follow the sound of Dad’s voice. He’s locked in conversation in his office. Sandra is in the kitchen, having a meeting with the kitchen staff. Knowing I can steal another minute with Ford, I pounce on the opportunity.
Della darts out of the classroom, nearly smacking into me. She grins—quite wolfishly I might add—and then skips down the hall to her room. I peek in the classroom to find Ford on one knee, wrangling his cat Della told me all about into a pet carrier. He curses at the creature a few times before managing to get it locked up.
“Heathen is a vicious bitch,” Ford says, grinning up at me. “You can keep her if you want.”
“Way to sell it,” I tease.
He rises to his feet, leaving the carrier on the floor. Before I lose my nerve, I rush over to him. Standing on my toes, I tilt my head up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. I start to pull away, but his strong arm snakes around me, pulling me to his solid chest.
“What was that for?” he rumbles, hooded eyes searing into me.
“To thank you. For being so good to Della.”
“What do I need to do in order to get your lips on mine?”
Is this how it feels to like a guy and be liked back? I’m so inexperienced in the dating department it’s not even funny. The way he looks at me and touches me, like I’m already his, is distracting. It makes me want to forget about all my troubles and stress.
“It’s not like that,” I lie, my voice a needy whisper.
“It’s not?” He smirks, clearly amused by my lies. “So this thing between us is what? Just friends?”
Not only am I seriously lacking when it comes to boyfriends, I’m no better in the friend department either. Of course I’d become enamored with the first guy to push past my defenses and force his way inside.
“Yeah, just friends. We already established this on Monday.” I swallow and shrug. “Do you even know how to be just friends with a woman?”
“Nope.”
He chases the word out of his mouth toward me and then his lips are on mine. Soft and gentle at first. I sigh at the sweetness and surprise of it. A groan rumbles through him and he takes the opportunity to drive his tongue into my mouth. He tastes like caramel, which is fitting since his eyes are that rich light brown shade in this moment. I want to devour him. Clinging to his shirt, I tug him closer, needing to kiss him longer, deeper, harder.
His teeth find my bottom lip when we pull back just enough to catch our breath. I suck in a shocked breath and he follows it with a throaty chuckle. Then, his mouth is back on mine, owning my lips and tongue with his.
It feels good.
Really good.
To be tasted and explored.
His kisses are more than possessive. They’re filled with such passion. Like I can hear his thoughts and feel his desire with each swipe of his expert tongue over mine.
Dad’s voice, calling for Sandra down the hall, kills the mood. I jolt in Ford’s grip and jerk away from him. Smoothing down my hair and licking my lips, I try to right myself after such a soul-stealing kiss.
It’s nearly impossible.
Gone are the playful smirks and taunting grins.
Ford watches me, a frown transforming his features. As though he can’t figure me out. The hunger in his caramel eyes makes it pretty easy to know what’s going on in his head. He wants to take my mouth with his once more. The feeling is mutual.
But I can’t.
Not with Dad on the prowl.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper, unable to look at him when I say it. “My dad—”
“We did do it, though. It’s done, honey.” He winks at me. “And it’s going to happen again, too. Soon.”
“Ford.”
“Landry.” He breaks into an impish grin. “I’m not sorry about it.”
Me neither.
The fluttering in my chest and the silly smile tugging at my lips is all the proof I need. I’m not sorry and that’s a problem.
Maybe he could help us.
Hope vines its way around my heart and gives it a squeeze. Maybe he could.
Chapter Fourteen
Sparrow
I can’t sit still, wearing a hole in the rug in our living room as I pace back and forth in front of the window wall. Hell, I even scrubbed all three bathrooms earlier because I needed to expel some energy. I’ve been like this all damn day. Ever since seeing Landry. Cleaning and pacing. It boils my blood that she has a big-ass bruise on her face. Furthermore, it pisses me off that she’s protecting someone.
All fingers point to her father.
She’s eighteen, though. Why the hell does she put up with it? Is the family fortune really worth it to her?
If I could have my mom back with us, I’d give up the suits and cars no matter how much it would pain me. It’s just money and stuff to me—something to entertain me while time slowly creeps by.
Landry obviously has her reasons, but what are they?
I’m missing part of the picture and it’s driving me crazy. If Sully doesn’t get more information from her this afternoon, I’ll be forced to take on his job, too. His heart isn’t in it.
It’s not because I want to see her more. Nope.
“I can hear your thoughts,” Scout says from where he’s sprawled out on the sofa, the television remote resting on his bare chest. “Loud as fuck, little bro.”
Little my ass.
We both know I can take him in a fist fight. It’s been proven many times over the years. He’s crazy as fuck, but I’m relentless and unstoppable.
“Just thinking,” I growl. “Since when do you care?”
He laughs, cold and distant. “Since we started sharing the same real estate in Mom’s womb.”
Liar.
Scout doesn’t care what I’m pissed about. He just likes to pretend he does.
“You got more tatts.” I motion to his chest that’s littered with scars and a lot more ink than I remember.
“Yup.”
The sun is setting on the horizon and a few stray rays of light highlight a strip of dust across our dark gray wood floors. I itch to hunt down a broom and mop, but that’ll only entertain Scout and I’m not in the mood for his shit.
“Fucking expensive,” he says, drawing my attention back to him. “But worth it.”
A giant bluish-gray serpent is hiding behind beautiful orange and red exotic-looking flowers of all sorts. Interesting.
“You know, if you’re bored of walking back and forth, you could always clean my room,” Scout offers, not at all helpfully. “I’m sure there’s laundry you could do.”
Laundry.
The only Laundry I wouldn’t mind doing isn’t here.
Scout goes back to flipping through the channels while I try my damnedest not to continue to pace the living room. Sully’s not replying to my texts. I just want to know how this afternoon went for him and if he managed to pluck anything else from Landry.
I go back to brooding but only for a few more minutes before the front door opens. Heathen is making some demonic half-meow, half-growling sounds from her carrier while Sully bitches at her for being evil and useless. He releases her from her cage and she bolts across the room, a flash of black fur. She launches herself up onto the sofa and then prances over Scout’s chest, curling herself on the snake tatt.
Fucking fitting if you ask me.
Match made in hell, those two.
Scout strokes Heathen’s fur, not even bothering to gloat to Sully that the cat likes him more. Sully ambles into the living room and falls into one of our beloved recliners.
I study him intently, looking for any answers he might have regarding Landry.
He’s smirking. In a pleased-as-fuck sort of way. It rankles me. I pop my knuckles on one hand one by one, the loud cracking sound echoing in the large room.
“What are you so happy about?” I demand, unable to keep the venom out of my tone.
Sully grins at me, wide and victorious. “I kissed Landry.”
The blood running through my veins thickens like molten lava, scorching me from the inside out. Both my hands curl into fists.
Why am I so pissed off?
It’s the damn job.
