Fraud (Antihero Inferno Book 2) Page 9
“I’m going to kill you,” she hisses, “and chop you up in tiny, tiny pieces.”
It’s wrong that my cock twitches at the barely restrained rage in her voice. Apparently, I am the type of bastard who gets off on this.
Still, I won’t admit fault.
“I have no idea why you’d do that. I’m here to rescue you, after all. You should be more appreciative.”
When I pull away from her, Ivy’s eyes lock on my face. I see my death being planned behind them, and I chuckle at the sight of it.
“Be smart, Ivy. You can either go along with what’s happening right now, or fight and fuck it up. Your choice.”
Her voice is a razor’s edge when she narrows her eyes on mine and says, “I have no idea what you’ve done, but I’ve never hated you more than I do at this moment.”
Smiling at that, I answer. “I’ve done nothing.”
“You are a fucking liar. And when I figure this out, I will get even.”
I’ve never heard more beautiful words in my life.
Winking at her, I squeeze her shoulders.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Ivy
Gabriel stares back at me with an evil glimmer in his green eyes. The son of a bitch has me cornered, and he knows it.
How he even accomplished this, I have no idea, but I’ve been cut off entirely from the means to walk out of this hotel on my own.
My father was so angry that he could barely formulate a well-structured sentence when I called him. All he told me is that I need to grow the hell up, stop being a fuck-up, and good luck getting home.
To say I was in shock is an understatement. Not once has my father stranded me somewhere, and despite my argument about how dangerous it is, he cut me off and wouldn’t hear it.
He told me to have my fiancé solve the problem since I’m threatening his career with what I’ve done.
I had absolutely no fucking idea what he was talking about, and he wouldn’t explain regardless of how many times I demanded it.
But I do know it has everything to do with the conniving bastard staring at me right now.
The thing I said about killing him? Totally going to happen, just as soon as I figure out this clusterfuck of a situation and fix everything he’s done.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll figure this out.”
“Will you?” He grins at that, his eyes twinkling with more evil.
I can’t stand the victory written into his expression, the self-assured arrogance that covers him like a shroud. This is so far beyond what I did to him that it should have been off limits.
Destroying each other’s property?
Yes, we’ve done that.
Public embarrassment?
Sure thing.
Semi-permanent body alterations?
Been there. Done that.
But bringing our families into it? Oh, hell no. That is a line we drew in the sand many years ago, and Gabriel has now traipsed all over it.
Neither of us were raised in the most understanding of families, and it’s a line that should never have been crossed.
Even if I owe a price for the favor Tanner did for me, this fuckery is so far beyond the pale that I can’t think straight to process it.
He shifts his posture, releases my shoulders and tucks his hands in his pockets, the devil may care expression on his face pissing me off more.
“Tell me how you plan to get home without any money to your name. Or for that matter, how you plan to get as far as the airport. Will you walk there with the thirty bags you have with you? Maybe stow away in the cargo section to catch a flight home. Please tell me. I’m dying of impatience.”
My eyes narrow so much that I’m staring at him from behind tiny slits.
“Involving our families is off limits. And it’s only seventeen bags, thank you very much.”
“Oh, excuse me for miscounting, and says who?”
The humor in his voice is insanely aggravating. “Also, what makes you think I had anything to do with this?”
“The fact that you’re here,” I answer, throwing up my arms because it’s better than decking him right here in front of witnesses.
Knowing this jerk, he hopes I’ll physically attack him just so he can toss my ass in jail for assault and make me beg him to bail me out.
Shrugging a negligent shoulder, he cants his head.
“I’m simply trying to help out an old friend. Shall we go now? Or would you like to keep delaying the inevitable?”
My voice drops to a dangerous growl.
“I am not your old friend. I have never been your old friend. And I’m fairly certain at this point that I never will be. So drop the act. It’s tiring.”
Stepping closer, he leans down just enough that he can whisper to me.
“Sweetheart, I haven’t begun to tire you out yet. I plan to run you in so many circles, you’ll beg me to stop.”
I hate the way my body shivers at his close proximity, at the sexual undertone in his voice despite the horrible promise he’s making.
And it is a promise.
Gabriel doesn’t make empty threats.
When he says he’ll do something, you better believe it will happen.
That’s the one thing he doesn’t lie about.
Ever.
I can’t lose my head over this, can’t give in and let myself be knocked off balance. That’s what he wants from me because it only makes me an easier target.
Dragging in a steadying breath, I tilt my chin and cross my arms over my chest. It takes effort to control my voice, even more so to keep from scraping my nails down his pretty face.
“Fine. I guess you win this round.”
His brow cocks, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
“But that means nothing in the long run.”
Another twitch of his lips.
“Are you planning on actually escorting me home, or are you leaving me destitute in Miami?”
“I would never do that. You’re so helpless and unable to take care of yourself that I would be a complete bastard to leave you all alone.”
Rolling my eyes at that, I smile back. “Such a gentleman.”
“Only for you,” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth and back up again.
The amount of anxious heat in his stare is staggering.
Rounding my shoulders, I relax my posture and decide to deal with this on my home turf.
As soon as we get back, I can go to my dad, explain that this is all a horrible mistake and get my life back again.
Once that’s accomplished, I’ll leave the country and live like a vagabond in some third world country if I have to just to escape this evil jerk.
Behind him, the elevator dings, and I see a valet bringing my bags out on a rolling cart, my gaze cutting back to Gabriel.
“Let’s go.”
Pure triumph is in his eyes, the truth of it slapping me in the face.
Still, this game is not over. Not by a long shot, and as soon as I gather my bearings, I’ll find an inventive way to strike back.
Gabriel steps forward again and places a hand on my back to show me to the front door. My body tingles at his touch, yet every muscle tenses as well because allowing him anywhere near me is just asking for a nightmare.
Escorting me through the door and out into the sunshine of a warm Miami day, Gabriel tips the valet for bringing my bags and then waits for his car to be brought to the curb.
After packing my bags into the car, he opens the front passenger door, smiling at me while waiting for me to climb in.
On as steady a voice as I can manage, I say, “I’m surprised you’re letting me ride up front. I thought your style would be to tie me up and lock me in the trunk.”
He laughs at that. “As I recall, that’s more your style after stripping me naked beforehand.”
My eyes lift to his as I buckle my seatbelt, the spark that is always present between us still there despite how much I hate him.
Gabriel must feel it, too, because his eyes run down my body, taking their dear, sweet time on the tops of my thighs where my skirt has ridden up to show more skin.
Shaking himself of the fascination, he shuts the door and rounds the front of the car, not saying a word as his foot hits the gas and we pull from the parking lot out onto the road.
We spend the next few minutes traveling down the road in uncomfortable silence. Every so often, I glance Gabriel’s direction, my hatred of him only increasing with each look.
More of what my father said plays through my head, my initial shock subsiding enough for me to consider the events that occurred.
“Are you going to tell me what you did?”
The corner of his mouth curls at my question, but he keeps his eyes fastidiously on the road. Most people might drop the topic at this point, might accept their defeat and move on.
I’m not most people.
“Why does my dad believe I have a fiancé?”
Another twitch of his lips, the absolute silence on his side of this conversation maddening.
“Who is my fiancé?” I ask because it better not be him. Even the thought of a fake engagement between us makes my eye twitch and my stomach shrivel to an uncomfortable size.
“Are you planning on speaking to me again, or is it more fun for you to torture me in silence?”
His bright green stare cuts to me for only a second before returning to the road.
“Actually, the silence is nice. I’ve discovered that I prefer you when you’re not talking. It annoys me less.”
Smiling at that, I shift in my seat to stare out the side window. “Fine. I’ll never say another word to you.”
“Promises, promises,” he grumbles as we turn a corner onto an entry ramp for the highway.
On either side of us, Miami speeds past, the tall palm trees, bright sun and white, fluffy clouds slipping through my fingers as Gabriel drives me to the private airport to drag me back to hell.
I hate the city, always have, especially now that the Inferno is back from Yale and once again part of it. For years, I’ve been looking for an excuse to move away, and maybe this is one.
Sure, it sucks that my dad has cut me off, but is it the end of the world?
For a long time I’ve wanted financial freedom and my own career. I’ve detested the life he was slowly creating for me.
Maybe this entire thing can be a blessing in disguise. I can get a job with my business degree, work a full year to save up and then move to a place like this to find another job, my weekdays spent earning my keep, while my weekends are spent sipping fruity drinks in the sunshine.
All in all, Gabriel may have just done me a favor without realizing it, and with that thought in mind, I turn back to him.
“I think you just fucked up, Gabe. I might be thanking you after this.”
From the side of his face, I can see his eyes roll, even as he refuses to look over at me.
“And I think you should shut up like you promised. I was enjoying the sound of nothing.”
My lips curl at that, another thought coming to mind about one of the ways I can strike back on the way home.
He wants a silent victim.
I refuse to be one.
And with the knowledge that I have on him, I’ll make the flight home the most unpleasant experience in the history of mankind.
Gabriel
It’s hard to believe Ivy accepts anything I have to say as truth. Not after the years we’ve been around each other and not after the games we’ve played.
The truth is I never want her silent around me.
Okay.
Wait.
That’s a lie.
I wanted her silent the one time she’d convinced me she was a worthless bag of socialite skin, her only value the cost of her upkeep and the clothes she wears.
But now that I know better, and now that I see the opponent emerging that I’ve battled my entire life, the last thing I want is for her to stop talking.
She fascinates me, this woman.
Always has.
Ivy remains quiet the rest of the drive to the airport, but that doesn’t mean she’s given up. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s almost as if I can hear the gears grinding in her head, can read her thoughts as easily as if they were written on a whiteboard while she plots out her next move in her plan to fight back.
She’s up to something, and I’m looking forward to the grand unveiling, only because for as aggravating as her pranks can be, they are also awe-inspiring.
I love the way her devious mind works. Ivy never does anything standard or ordinary. The pranks she plans against me are an art form, and I admire the way she’s always surprised me as much as I surprised her.
Pulling up to the airport gates, I hand the security attendant my identification and flight plan for him to check over. Satisfied I have every right to be here, he opens the gates and allows me to pull forward.
Within a few seconds, we’re slowly driving down the tarmac, my plane coming into sight, several of the crew running around to do their pre-flight checks.
Glancing at Ivy, I see she’s not impressed. But then again, why would she be? She was raised in the same life as me, her level of luxury almost equal to the wealth my family has amassed.
If anything, she looks bored, the silence finally getting to me so much that I can’t help but break it.
“Just so you know I’m a member in good standing with the Mile-High Club. If you haven’t joined yet, I highly recommend it.”
She turns her head to glare in my direction, but rather than opening those beautiful lips and spitting back some snarky retort, she rolls her eyes and turns back to the window.
My brows shoot up at that, and I wonder just how long she’ll continue with the silent treatment she’s giving me.
I don’t let it bother me.
“Can I assume your silence indicates consent and excitement?”
Her shoulders shake with a snort, but she doesn’t look at me again or communicate in any way.
That’s fine. As soon as we’re on the plane, I’ll annoy her so much she won’t be able to resist attacking back.
I park the car near the plane and get out. Nodding my head at one of the crew, I walk around the car to open the trunk for another crew member to gather and load the bags onto the plane, then round to the passenger side to pull open Ivy’s door.
Offering a hand to help her out of her seat, I smile when she scowls.
“Come along, princess. Your chariot awaits.”
Surprisingly, she takes my hand as she swings her shapely legs from the car and pushes to her feet.
“I’m not a princess,” she argues as we walk toward the plane, the sun glowing beautifully against her tan skin.
“Ah,” I tease, “she speaks.”
Her soft laughter floats through the breeze, tempting me in all the right places.
“Oh,” she volleys back, “he really does want to hear me. I’m shocked.”
Grinning at that, we approach the plane when I remind her, “You’ve always been a spoiled princess, Ivy. Since the day we met.”
We reach the stairs, and she turns to me before climbing them. Aqua blue eyes hold mine, something unsaid in her expression.
“And you’ve always been the broken prince. Or have you forgotten that part?”
She arches a perfectly shaped brow before releasing my hand to climb the stairs.
Stuck in place by the reminder of how we ended up here, I watch as she ascends, the wind whipping her skirt so that the backs of her thighs keep peeking out at me.
How stupid of her to say what she did. Even if I was the one to start it. The easy humor I’d felt only seconds ago is now lost to memories I’d rather forget.
“Mr. Dane. We’re ready to depart. Just waiting for you to board.”
The wind whips my hair as I stare up at Ivy. She glances down at me, the wind catching her skirt just right to give me a glimpse of her black silk pant
ies.
Holding her hand against her skirt to keep it in place, she tips her chin defiantly, her eyes tangling with mine without apology for what she said.
“Mr. Dane?”
Dragging my gaze from hers, I turn to the crewmember speaking to me. “I’ll head up now.”
He nods and waits as I ascend the stairs.
Ducking my head as I step into the cabin, I see Ivy in a single seat near a window, her ankles crossed demurely, and her posture perfectly straight.
I choose a seat opposite the cabin from her, not that she deserves so much space. My eyes are still locked on her as they shut the door and the engines start.
We both buckle our seatbelts as the plane moves down the tarmac, but Ivy refuses to look at me as we lift into the air, climb to the proper elevation and the plane settles in for the two-hour flight.
I can’t take the silence for longer than a half hour.
“Don’t you think it was stupid to bring that up?”
She still refuses to glance my direction, her eyes trained on the sky outside. “I’m not the one who started it.”
“In fact,” she adds, her eyes finally crawling to mine, “I’m not the one who wants to be here. I was happily living my life ignoring all of you, at least until I was dragged back into your bullshit. I miss the days you were away at Yale. At least, then, I didn’t have to watch my back constantly for fear of you sneaking up behind it.”
Grinning, I tap my fingers on the armrest, the tension in my shoulders far too tight to be comfortable.
“There are certain things we don’t talk about, Ivy. Or have you forgotten?”
A bark of laughter shakes her shoulders, but the sound is entirely devoid of humor.
“Are you serious? How many years has it been, Gabriel? If anybody should want to avoid talking about that night, it’s me. None of what happened was my fault. But you certainly made my life hell for it, didn’t you?”
She shakes her head.
“It’s such bullshit. Everybody believes the fake mask you wear. The easygoing jokester that doesn’t care about anything. But I saw the truth, and you don’t like it. Is that why I’m here right now? Because I walked out on something I shouldn’t have? You can blame yourself for that. Not me. Fraud is a good name for you, Gabe. I don’t think anybody realizes just how deep the moniker runs.”