“You don’t give me any other choice than to hurt your son, Mr. Spencer.”
I don’t play her game. I’m better than that.
“Do… But I hope you’re ready for his mother because she’s been to hell and back, and if you touch a hair on his head, I can promise you, she won’t let you rest until she has fed you to tigers. It’s your turn to bet on life, Mrs. VanHorn. Are you ready to unleash the dragon, or would you prefer we find a compromise?”
Maybe my bluff skills are rusty, and her soul is already too dark to care because without a glance in my direction, she turns her back to me and looks toward Dereck’s son.
If I thought I'd won her over, her next words show me how wrong I was.
“Kill him,” she announces without any emotion in her voice. And when the grip on the gun I didn’t know the guy was carrying hits me hard on the head, I know I’ve lost the most crucial poker game of my life.
But at least, she won’t touch my son.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
TESSA
For a PR guy, Dex Crawford acts as if he is a CIA agent.
Maybe this is normal in LA, but here it makes you look like a prick.
A gigantic prick in fact.
The first thing he did was throw me out of the conference room to talk to Mark alone.
He arrived this morning acting almighty, like he owns the place and trying to fix shit he had no idea about, but it seems Oliver’s friends think of him as the new Messiah. I don’t see how a tall scrawny guy in a suit will be better than the muscles and brains Cole Security Forces have in the office but it’s not up to me to tell Twilight how to navigate his ship. Knowing Mark, he’ll figure it out fast enough.
They have been cooped up together for hours, and haven’t even come up for a breath of fresh air.
To make matters worse, I couldn’t even spy through the blinds as Crawford shut them as soon as he entered the room.
Less worried now that the Savior has arrived, Naomi and the baby went back to the hotel room with the nanny, while Lars stayed behind, more to keep me company than anything.
We’re sharing a non-conversational moment, me leaving a message to Dereck to postpone our meeting and Trouble answering emails on his phone when the elevator doors open, and a woman dressed all in black with short bleached hair and scars on her face steps in. Walking as if she was on a mission to kill, she nods at Lars Trouble—who nods back—and without slowing down to mutter a word or ask for direction, walks toward the conference room and slides in as if she was expected. It lasted a few seconds, but it feels like she walked in slow motion like in a Tarantino movie. Kill Bill’s in the house.
“Who’s that?” I murmur, not sure I want her to know I’m asking about her.
“Crawford’s secret weapon. If someone knows something, it’s her. If you need someone to be found, she’ll do it as well. If there is anything to find, she’s one of the best.”
“Really? I thought that was Oliver?”
Lars scoffs. “Believe me, I would prefer to tell you she’s shit but I have to accept she’s the best… Last year, when I was accused of assault, she’s the one who detangled it all. We had shit. The police had shit. But she found the breach and pressed until it bled from its source.”
“She seems badass…”
Lars chuckles, “she is. It’s better to be on her good side.” I don’t impress easily but I surely want her to become my friend more than my enemy. Lars continues, “I didn’t think she was in the country but what do I know. It might be an in and out.” He goes back to his phone, types a few words on his screen before coming back to me. “Have to update Dan so his wife doesn’t lose her shit about Oliver. They are close. Very close. He’s been an ass the past week but they will always have each other’s back. But you’ve met her, right?” Remembering the awkward encounter where I wasn’t at my best and then Oliver’s anger explosion right after, I nod.
“She’s tough. The shit she gave me and Art when we met her. Incredible. We like to surround ourselves with tough women in this family. Oliver is no exception.” He winks and smiles and if I haven’t been rendered speechless by Lars Trouble just talking to me like we were friends about his bandmate, I would certainly correct him about my relationship with Oliver. Because I’m not Oliver’s woman. I’m not even his date. I’m the girl he fucks when he sees her, which has been a lot the past week, but we haven’t talked about our future, a relationship or anything of the sort. I’m a benefit without being a friend. I’m a repetitive one-night stand. I’m the girl he ditches when it gets to be too much.
Trying to regroup, I say the only thing that comes to my mind.
“Dex Crawford is an asshole.” I blurt and blush right away.
Lars laughs again. “He certainly is. Be glad he doesn’t control your life like he does mine. As a publicist, it’s hell sometimes. He protects us even against ourselves. He’s lucky he knows what he’s doing because I don’t know many people who could stand his bluntness.” He offers me a smile and turns back to his phone at the same time as Mark’s office door opens and said asshole comes out like a silent fart in the wind— even if you don’t hear it coming doesn’t mean it won’t kill you.
“Miss Fitzpatrick, we’re ready for you,” the pompous ass tells me, his icy blue eyes almost rolling while his lips sneer a little. Great. We don’t know each other but we
