Page 196
Story: The Faking Game
“I don’t want him to ever work again.”
“I don’t want him to draw breath.” My voice is flat, harsh. It’s the ugly truth, and it’s not something I will act on, but fuck if the anger I’m feeling doesn’t make me see red. “But I will settle for ruining him.”
He made Nora cry. He made her fear sleeping alone; he made her change where she lived, her habits, herlife.
Don’t have to wait long. He comes walking through the room, a smile on his face. Ben Wilde is in a dark navy suit and purple pocket-square, with his graying hair slicked back. He clasps hands, nods, takes pictures.
He still thinks it’s his night.
Rafe and I have known each other for over a decade. He might hate me, but I know what he’s thinking. Can hear it in the silence between us. “You came for her tonight.”
“Yes. I want a shot at him.”
“I want to talk to him.” He’s controlled again. He’s pulled the dark threads back inside, like he’s so good at. “Let him know I’m watching. I want him looking over his shoulder for months, not sure when the blow will come.”
“Too mild.”
“It’s not your situation to handle.”
I turn to him, and the anger that I’ve kept at bay boils to the surface. “She’s spent months terrified and too afraid to talk to anyone about it, and I want him to pay. It’s all for her.”
Rafe’s green eyes slide to mine. “And you think I don’t? She’s my little sister. My flesh and blood.”
“I know that. Just like she’s my…”
“Your what?” His lips thin. “Tell me, West. What is she to you? You’ve always made your stance on relationships crystal clear.”
“She’s everything,” I say. “And you know how Ifeltabout relationships. Not how I feel now.”
“Is that what you are, then? A couple?”
My gaze tracks Wilde beneath us as he half hugs, half slaps another man on the back. The self-congratulation hanging in the air feels suffocating. Dark and oily. “We need to get him alone.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
I turn to Rafe, and he’s right there, eyes barely visible in the dim lighting. “I’m here to scare Wilde badly enough that he or any of his hired men won’t set foot in the samecityas Nora again. Will you help me? Because I’m not going to be subtle.”
The offer hangs between us, stretches taut. I know I’m overstepping, but I can’t step aside, not when she’s involved. Not when I know she wants this handled too.
Rafe gives a tight nod. “Bribe the staff?”
“Yes. I’ll do it. You’re too recognizable.”
“So are you.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who shouldn’t be seen here.” I glance back down and toward the open door to the far right. “There’s a wine cellar at this venue. Looked private from the pictures.”
“I saw it too. I’ll make sure it’s clear.”
“Meet you there.”
Ten minutes later, I’ve slipped one of the waiters a wad of bills to tell Wilde that there’s a surprise waiting for him in the wine cellar.If he asks, tell him it’s organized by his wife.
No one sees me when I walk down the flight of stairs to find Rafe already there. He’s sitting by the barrel table in the middle of the cellar, surrounded by rows and rows of stacked bottles.
He’s opened one and set three glasses on the table. “Figured we’d welcome our guest.”
“Is there arsenic in his glass?”
“I don’t want him to draw breath.” My voice is flat, harsh. It’s the ugly truth, and it’s not something I will act on, but fuck if the anger I’m feeling doesn’t make me see red. “But I will settle for ruining him.”
He made Nora cry. He made her fear sleeping alone; he made her change where she lived, her habits, herlife.
Don’t have to wait long. He comes walking through the room, a smile on his face. Ben Wilde is in a dark navy suit and purple pocket-square, with his graying hair slicked back. He clasps hands, nods, takes pictures.
He still thinks it’s his night.
Rafe and I have known each other for over a decade. He might hate me, but I know what he’s thinking. Can hear it in the silence between us. “You came for her tonight.”
“Yes. I want a shot at him.”
“I want to talk to him.” He’s controlled again. He’s pulled the dark threads back inside, like he’s so good at. “Let him know I’m watching. I want him looking over his shoulder for months, not sure when the blow will come.”
“Too mild.”
“It’s not your situation to handle.”
I turn to him, and the anger that I’ve kept at bay boils to the surface. “She’s spent months terrified and too afraid to talk to anyone about it, and I want him to pay. It’s all for her.”
Rafe’s green eyes slide to mine. “And you think I don’t? She’s my little sister. My flesh and blood.”
“I know that. Just like she’s my…”
“Your what?” His lips thin. “Tell me, West. What is she to you? You’ve always made your stance on relationships crystal clear.”
“She’s everything,” I say. “And you know how Ifeltabout relationships. Not how I feel now.”
“Is that what you are, then? A couple?”
My gaze tracks Wilde beneath us as he half hugs, half slaps another man on the back. The self-congratulation hanging in the air feels suffocating. Dark and oily. “We need to get him alone.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
I turn to Rafe, and he’s right there, eyes barely visible in the dim lighting. “I’m here to scare Wilde badly enough that he or any of his hired men won’t set foot in the samecityas Nora again. Will you help me? Because I’m not going to be subtle.”
The offer hangs between us, stretches taut. I know I’m overstepping, but I can’t step aside, not when she’s involved. Not when I know she wants this handled too.
Rafe gives a tight nod. “Bribe the staff?”
“Yes. I’ll do it. You’re too recognizable.”
“So are you.”
“Yes, but you’re the one who shouldn’t be seen here.” I glance back down and toward the open door to the far right. “There’s a wine cellar at this venue. Looked private from the pictures.”
“I saw it too. I’ll make sure it’s clear.”
“Meet you there.”
Ten minutes later, I’ve slipped one of the waiters a wad of bills to tell Wilde that there’s a surprise waiting for him in the wine cellar.If he asks, tell him it’s organized by his wife.
No one sees me when I walk down the flight of stairs to find Rafe already there. He’s sitting by the barrel table in the middle of the cellar, surrounded by rows and rows of stacked bottles.
He’s opened one and set three glasses on the table. “Figured we’d welcome our guest.”
“Is there arsenic in his glass?”
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