The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (8 page)

BOOK: The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1)
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       “But, what if it’s already too late for us?” she probed. “Only a fool wouldn’t notice the obvious disdain that you hold for me.”

        That quickly got his attention.

        “Why would you say something like that?” he demanded angrily, rising higher in the chair. “It’s the most absurd thing that I’ve----”

       “You look as if you hate me,” she admitted, looking away uncomfortably. “It’s like you can’t even bare to look at me.”

        “That’s the furthest thing from the truth!” he snapped. “We care deeply for each other---more than you even realize. It’d be foolish for us to turn away from each other just because of the accident and what’s happened between us in the past.”

        “Maybe things would be better if I weren’t here,” she said, holding his intense gaze. “You’ve admitted yourself that things with Meghan are complicated. I’m sure with me being here, I’m nothing more than a burden.”

         “No, you’re not going anywhere.” Jaw clenched tight, he shook his head in disapproval. “I’m not giving up. You’re not giving up. We’re going to see things through to the end.”

       Why was he referring to their relationship as if it were a business merger? And what did he mean by ‘seeing things through to the end’? It certainly didn’t seem like they were the perfect match, but more like a forced paring, she thought with a panged expression

       Or was she somehow caught up in a modern-day blood ties mafia family? The things that he was saying…it made her believe so.

       “You’re my fiancé,” she said, distracted, staring down at her ringed finger, and then passed him a flustered look. “I don’t even know who you are---you’re practically a stranger.”

       “What do you want to know?” he quipped tightly, leaning back in the chair again. “Fire away. Ask me anything that you want, Olivia Lange.”

        She blushed again.

        And why wouldn’t she?

        Certainly, she was in company with the most fascinating creature….

        As the light splayed into the room, it fell across him, and his green eyes gleamed with an intensity that was nearly stifling. Swallowing hard, she glanced away, and her soft question lingered in the air. “How long have we known each other?”

       “For the better part of a year and a half, we’ve been together, but we’ve only been engaged these last several months.”

        She frowned. “Again, you haven’t fully explained this situation with Meghan---”
        “And as I said before, it’s complicated.” A hard edge laced his tone. “She’s my daughter, and while I’m not perfect, everything I do is for her.” There was no dismissing the flash of pain that crossed his face. But, his hard mask slipped back into place. “Since you’re obviously intent upon rehashing this bit of information, I’ll tell you more. Like I said, Meghan has been staying abroad.” He had to force the next words out. “Her mother’s dead, and we’ve both been finding ways to deal with it.”

       “I’m sorry, and I can only imagine how difficult it is for her to be without her mother,” she whispered, horrified, feeling the naked shame. Her next words came out in a stammer. “A-am I the reason that the two of you weren’t together? Did we have an affair?”

        Before her eyes, he seemed to turn to granite, and so many unspeakable emotions played across his features. “For now,” he said stiffly. “That’s all that I can tell you, and I’m not going to discuss anything further about Meghan’s mother. Don’t ask me anything else about her. It’s a closed subject as far as anyone’s concerned.”

       And that ‘anyone’ included her…

       She watched him, completely taken aback by his hostile tone and demeanor.

       It was obvious that her death was a painful matter, and how could she be so selfish by only focusing on herself and her needs, she thought with guilt. Was it possible that he loved
her
instead of her?

       The fact that it bothered her was surprising.

       For wasn’t he a stranger, still, in spite of the fact?

      But, poor Meghan, a motherless child---

       She blinked back the fresh tears. “How could I be so self-absorbed? And how could I forget the life that I share with you? I’m a horrible---”

       “You’re nothing of the sort,” he disagreed, tensing. “So, stop putting those ideas in your head.” He blew a fast breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, and you’ve been through enough today. There’s no need in over-exerting yourself---”

       “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Meghan squealed, bursting back into the study.

       “What Poppet?” he smiled, standing up. “What’s got you so worked up?”

       Just as he rounded the desk, he scooped a running Meghan into his arms.

       As Olivia watched them, a tiny smile curved her lips. There was no denying the mutual affection that the father and child shared.

       Which didn’t explain Meghan’s earlier comments.   

       She sank deeper into the plush chair facing the desk.

      Why had he described himself as the ‘lost one’?

      It was apparent that he shared a deep bond with his daughter.

       “Cricket’s gonna have babies!” Meghan exclaimed, slapping her tiny hands against her cheeks, and her eyes widened with wonder. “Bet she’ll have lots of them! If she does, can we keep them all, Daddy? Please, please…”

        “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” Jarrod chided.

        “But, you said that it’s always important to plan ahead, and that’s what I’m doin’, Daddy. I’m plannin’ ahead,” Meghan said firmly, narrowing her eyes. “Just like you.”

        A sad smile fleeted along his face. “A stubborn streak a mile long, just like your mother,” Jarrod said quietly, and then, regaining composure, he shook his head again. “Now, I want you to do me a favor, Poppet.”

       “What Daddy? What can be more important than Cricket?” Meghan complained with a sullen look.

       “I want you to take Olivia to the kitchen to meet Cricket,” he said, turning his attention to her. As he stared down at her, she resisted the urge to squirm in the chair. “And while you’re both there, get Rosa to fix you some lunch.”

       “Daddy, her name is Livvy, not Livvia. Call her by her right name!” Meghan pouted.

        “But, I’m not hungry,” Olivia said, voicing her own protests, too, and rose. “And I want to talk more about who--”

        “There’ll be time for that later. Right now, you need to preserve your strength, and the only way that your condition will improve is if you eat. Besides, you don’t want to disappoint Meghan, do you?”

        “Of course not,” she murmured, flushing red. “But, I have questions. There are more things that I need to know---”

        “All the more reason for you to take a much needed break,” he said, cutting her off. After giving Meghan a quick peck on the cheek, he placed her wiggling form on the floor. “By regaining your strength, you’ll be able to handle things much easier, don’t you think?”

         Blinking fast, she nodded. “O-of course.”

         Meghan tugged on her hand impatiently. “Come on, Livvy. Let’s go.”  

         “Alright, lead the way,” she murmured, forcing a smile, and without a further word, they left the study.    

 

 

 

 

        Chapter 4

 

 

         “Julie, I need you to fax over the Windsor ledger and contact John Windsor immediately,” Jarrod said, a half hour later, cuffing the cell phone in his large hand, still working in the study. “Contact Marc, and tell him that we need to get on this quick. We need this shipment out before the end of the week.” He leaned back in the chair. “If anything pertinent comes up, I want you to contact me immediately. Thanks.”

       After ending the call with his receptionist, he tossed the phone on the desktop. Releasing a pent-up breath, he rubbed a hand along his cheek thoughtfully. That took care of business matters, but what about the more personal ones, Jarrod thought, staring at the closed study door.

      Like the identity of the church bomber…

      Even now, that fact remained a secret.

      But, after years of dealing with Addison’s treachery, being the victim of having false documents drawn up that made him look guilty when he was innocent, and reeling from false accusations of sordid crimes that he wasn’t responsible for, those were reasons why it was pertinent to find out the culprit.

     A repeat of the nightmare that’d claimed his life for the past years definitely didn’t need repeating.

     The chair creaked as he leaned forward.

     And the kind of information that he needed, he thought, punching the number into the cell phone. It’d have to come straight from the streets.

     On the third ring, the other party answered. “Yeah?”

     “Frank T., it’s Sabatino,” he muttered, rearing back in the seat. “I got a job for you.”

     “Sabatino! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” the forty-two year old, bald, husky African-American male said with a deep chuckle on the other end. “If you’re fronting me for information, I know it has to be big. What’s up, player?”

     “Did you hear about the explosion about a couple of months back?” he asked, gripping the phone hard. “On the south side of Charleston?”

      “How could I not? It was all over the news for weeks. Holland Grove Sanctuary, right? Whoever did that, that’s one messed up SOB,” Frank T muttered on the other end. “Anybody that’ll a blow up a church of all things, that’s not saying much about his character. Know what I mean? That shit ain’t good.” He gave a knowing laugh. “And that’s what you want me to snoop around and find out, right? The leg man and the initiator, is that the 411 that you need?”

      “Yes,” he quipped tightly. “Not only will I offer you round-the-clock protection, but I’ll compensate you well.”

      “That’ll work for me, player. I’m still balling because of the last job that I did for you,” Frank T laughed. “Keep passing jobs like this my way, and I’ll be a billionaire like you in no time.”

      “Is that so?” he said, giving a real laugh, and then, he turned serious again. “Frank, be careful with this. These guys aren’t playing around, obviously.”

       “Obviously not,” Frank T agreed. “Tell you what? I’ll jump on this ASAP. Not going to waste any time on this.”

        “Call me. I’m not in the States right now. But, when the need calls for it, I’ll come in, and we’ll meet.”

        “I hear ya. Hate to break away from the call, Sabatino, but I gotta bounce. You know how it is, right?”

         “I understand. Later.”

         The phone went dead.

         As the study door opened, he strove for normalcy.

         “Daddy, Daddy, guess what, guess what?” Meghan said, racing across the room, leaving an apprehensive Olivia standing at the door. After a brief hesitation, she ventured further into the room. But, as she settled on the sofa, he easily noticed her tension.

         Standing, he moved from behind the desk again, and just as he did, a gleeful Meghan collided into him. “Hey, slow down,” Jarrod chuckled, kneeling down. “What are you trying to do, run me over?”

         “You’re the best Daddy in the whole wide world!” Meghan said, jumping around his neck. “I love you!”

         The hard knot in his chest tightened.

         Wasn’t Meghan the only good part of him that he had left? There was no way that he was going to lose her, too. “And I love you,” he added quietly.

         Staring across the room, he met Olivia’s gaze.

         The bright tears swam in her light brown eyes, and once more, he had to marvel at her simple beauty. Long raven black tresses, flawless creamy skin, light brown eyes that were the color of warm whiskey, Jarrod mulled distractedly, taking in the floral dress that covered her curvaceous figure. They all made for a perfect package…

        She is the pawn, he reminded himself, breaking his gaze away.

        He was the master player.

        And weren’t there always casualties in the game of war?

 

 

***

 

        “Meghan’s asleep,” Olivia murmured, a few hours later, standing at the study’s threshold. After dinner, they’d separated with her carrying a sleepy Meghan to her bedroom and him retiring to the study. And now, the inevitable couldn’t be prolonged further. She took an unsteady breath. “We need to talk. Don’t you think that we’ve danced around the truth long enough?”

          Again, his green gaze was intense as he studied her from across the room. Sighing heavily, he rose from behind the desk. “Can’t it wait until morning? We’ve both had a tiring day.”

          With a firm hand, she closed the door.

          “No, it can’t wait.
I won’t wait
,” she said firmly, pursing her lips. “I need answers.”

          “You’re my fiancée. Isn’t that enough information for now?” Jarrod asked, crossing to the wet bar. As he poured the brandy into the glass, it made a trickling sound. Then, tilting the glass back, he downed the alcohol before slapping the glass back onto the counter top. “Like I said, we’ll talk in the morning.”

          “Why are you being deliberately cruel?” she whispered accusingly. “It’s like you’re going out of your way to make me feel unwanted. A loveless relationship…while I don’t know fully remember anything, I can’t see myself being okay with that. Again, I can’t help but wonder if this relationship is based on hate instead of---”

          “There you go with that word again,” he quipped tightly, facing her. “Don’t ever use it around me again.”

        “Or you’ll do what?” she asked breathlessly, taking in his pure sexiness. “You can’t bully me and stop me from learning the truth.”

        “Bully? Trust me, I’ve been called worse,” he winked, and a devilish glint played in his eyes.

        She inhaled sharply.

        The man was a package of sin!

        While she was mindless, she wasn’t immune to that simple fact.

        “I don’t doubt that either,” Olivia said, stiffening. “But, I deserve the truth, and it’s the only thing that is going to serve the both of us. And
you
will not keep it from me.” Suddenly, she was chilled, but not from the cold. Rather, it was the insensitiveness that he was forcing upon her. She sank down onto the sofa. “Tell me everything. Where I’m from, how we met---”

         A dangerous gleam shone in his eyes. “Olivia Lange, struggling artist in Charleston, struggling to make ends meet---is that good enough?” Jarrod asked, raising a brow.

        “No, it’s not,” she snapped, firing an angry glare. “And it’s certainly obvious why we’re estranged and having problems.”

        His green eyes narrowed. “Why is that?”

        She lifted her chin proudly. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting anyone more despicable or hateful than you.”

        Shrugging, he gave an abrupt laugh. “Ouch. Thanks for the compliment.”

        “Trust me, it wasn’t one. Why do you want me here?” Olivia asked, standing, and then ambled towards him. “I can’t help but think that there’s more to our situation. And if things are bad between us like you’ve said, maybe it is best that you just let me go.”

        A strange look crossed his face. “I can’t do that.”

        “Can’t or won’t?” she demanded, stopping before him. “I ask for simple answers, but you won’t give them. Why is that? What kind of secrets are you hiding? How do I even know that you’re my fiancé? For all I know, you could be lying.”

         “Forgive me,” Jarrod said, his face tightening in a carefully controlled mask. “My reaction is purely based on the issues that we were having before your accident. And I’m abhorred by my own behavior, my love. Can you forgive my transgression? Please tell me that you will.” Reaching out, he grabbed her hand, and before she could pull back, he raised her hand to his lips. “I swore that I’d be a better man if you came back to me, and it’s time that I live up to my claim.”

         As his warm lips pressed against her skin, she shivered, and there were no words to describe the sensations that were firing through her. In the soft kiss, she sensed danger, not of the violent sort, but a sensual one.

         One that’d be too easy for her to succumb to, she mulled, mesmerized by the gold flints in his green eyes….And it was one that she sensed that she already knew, for already, the familiar feelings were swirling within her.

         She snatched her hand back. “Proof---the proof that we’re engaged, where is it?”

         Jarrod arched a high brow. “I take it that you don’t trust me?”

         As she watched him, he hesitated briefly, and again, she was reminded of what a deep mystery he exuded. Cool, collected, a dangerous charm….But, underneath the exterior, a volatile storm raged within him, and in brief moments, she caught a flicker of it in the green eyes that studied her so intently.

         An enigma, he definitely was.

         Flushing, she realized that she’d been staring again.

         “Surely, you don’t expect me to just take your word for everything,” she gulped, clasping her shaky hands together. “For all I know, you could be lying to me.”

         Jarrod gave a short laugh. “Being quite melodramatic, aren’t you? As a matter of fact, I think it’s possible that you’ve had your head buried in too many of those soap operas and late night cop dramas.” His green eyes flickered over her. “Humor me, for a moment, will you? Let’s suppose that your claims are true. Exactly, what would I be getting out of the situation? What benefits lie in me lying to you?”

        She blushed. “I-I don’t know. It just seems that---”

        “You want facts?” he asked, turning away from her. “I’ll give you facts.”

       Once again, she sat down.

        In a few long strides, he crossed the room, but didn’t stop at the desk this time. Walking to the huge picture mounted on the wall, he stopped, and to her amazement, it hid a secret storage port, she realized as he pulled it away from the wall. Quickly keying in the combination, he opened the safe before retrieving the large manila envelope.

        After he crossed the room again, he dropped the envelope onto the table.

        “Read it,” Jarrod ordered quietly. “Everything that you want to know is right there. And since we’re abroad here at our vacationing home, that’s all that we keep of our personal information along with our passports.”

        Tearing up, she eyed the envelope on the table, and then with an unsteady hand, she picked it up before releasing the clasp. As she dumped some of the contents out the envelope, they scattered across the table.

         Passports…

         Birth certificates…

         Driver’s licenses…

         Photos of a younger her…

         Graduation pictures…

         Intimate photos of her daily life…

         Then, she lifted the wedding invitation from the smooth glass top.

        
Olivia Lange and Jarrod Sabatino
, it read.

        
You are cordially invited to the upcoming nuptials…

         “Our wedding, it’s a year from now. But, why aren’t there any photos of us together?” she demanded, meeting his eyes. “If we’re so much in love, why aren’t there any?”

          He lifted a brow. “Well, if you’d take everything out of the envelope, you’d find a few.”

          With a shaky hand, she lifted the envelope again, and as he proposed, more photos scattered across the table. She chose the top photo with a shaky hand and stared at it closely. Together, they sat at the bistro table, facing one another in broad daylight. Across the table top, they held hands, and it seemed that they were engrossed in deep conversation. As she stared at herself on the photo, she’d never seen anyone look more enamored than she did. And as he was doing now, he took her breath away. On the glossy image, the sunlight danced across his face, and he seemed just as taken with her.

          “A close friend of ours took that photo on August 17
th
, six months ago. After a gala presentation, we dined there, and as you can see, we are definitely attuned to each other,” Jarrod suggested, staring down at her. “While we’re having issues, Livvy, it doesn’t change the fact that we are meant to be together.” He paused briefly. “Whether you believe that or not, we do belong together.”

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