Home > The Arrangement Vol. 12(7)

The Arrangement Vol. 12(7)
Author: H.M. Ward

Mel sits up and puts her arms around her knees. “I knew what I was doing, if that’s what you mean. The moment I saw her, I knew something was wrong—like way the f**k wrong. When someone threatens you with a knife, gun, or whatever—there’s no time to second guess anything. It’s you or them, and I’m not dying.”

Trystan’s eyes flick between us as we speak, but he says nothing. I wonder what horrors he’s seen because he doesn’t react to anything we say. He just sits there, listening, like he knows what Mel’s talking about.

“But how can you do it? I don’t think I could.”

That’s when Trystan speaks up. “There’s something inside of you that will wake up if you need it. I hope to God that you never do, but don’t doubt that it’s there. Like Mel said, your body will want to act—to protect you. Don’t think. Just do it, and you’ll live another day.”

Mel and I stare at him. There’s a second where his words are frightening, but then I feel nothing but empathy for him. He must have learned that from living with his father. The guy beat the shit out of him when he was a kid. It was in the papers and all anyone talked about for a while. Trystan Scott is a beautiful, charismatic, and charming singer. Everyone who meets him, loves him. He doesn’t seem to have a violent bone in his body, but he came from a bloody and battered past. There’s more story there, things I’ll never know, secrets he’ll never tell.

I nod, and am saved from finding an answer when Sean appears. “Let’s go. Jon can deal with his own shit.” He glances at Trystan and seems like he wants to tell him off, but doesn’t.

“Wait, what about Mel?” I ask, as Sean’s leading me toward the door.

“She knows what to do. Don’t worry about her. Come on, I have the jet waiting at McArthur Airport.”

The jet? Where are we going? I know better than to ask, so I say nothing and follow him outside. There’s a limo waiting. We duck inside and take off. Sean is still angry from whatever happened with Jonathan. He lets out a rush of air and says, “My brother’s an idiot.”

I smile at him, trying to lighten the mood. “Which one?”

Sean smirks and glances over at me, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to him. He kisses the top of my head and starts talking. “Jon thinks I abandoned him when he was a kid, but that’s not what happened. Pete seems to understand better, but not Jon. He won’t forgive me, and he acts like his childhood was hell and it’s my fault. The guy has everything, including the family fortune, then he goes and does things like this. I could understand this behavior from Bryan or Trystan, but not Jon. He’s got too much on the line and our mother isn’t exactly forgiving. There are things he doesn’t know.” Sean sighs and stops talking. It seems like he’s going to say more, but he doesn’t.

“I wish I had a brother or a sister, even if we didn’t get along. I envy you.” Sean makes a sound of disbelief. “No, I’m serious. Having crappy siblings is better than having none. You’re not alone. I am. Besides, Peter seems to have forgiven you. Jon will understand sooner or later.”

Sean doesn’t say anything, he just holds me tighter and stares out the window until the limo pulls up to a little jet parked on the tarmac. The lights glow softly from inside and the door is open with a staircase beckoning us to board. Sean takes my hand and leads me onto the plane. When I step inside, I don’t know what to do. There are eight huge leather seats that look as if they spin around. There’s a table, a bar, and a huge paper-thin television on the back wall. Everything looks pristine and has that new car, uh, new jet, smell.

“Sit wherever you like.” Sean gestures for me to continue into the back by myself. He disappears behind a curtain in front and speaks to the pilot before returning. By then I’m sitting in the last row and looking out the window.

“This is weird.” I’m on a plane—a really posh one—and without going through the airport or dealing with security. No one groped me as if my underwire could be used as a weapon. The TSA confiscated my cannoli once because it wasn’t sealed. I think the organization has a serious pastry problem. As soon as Sean is seated, we’re taxiing down the runway. No waiting.

He smiles at me, enjoying my amazed expression. “I’m going to spoil you to the point that you don’t think anything is unusual.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but I don’t mind you trying.” A lazy smile lines my lips. It’s nearly sunrise and I’m exhausted.

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Sean hands me a blanket and a pillow, and I snuggle up and before I can badger him about where we’re going, I doze off.

CHAPTER 15

The constant vibration of the plane has stopped and roused me. Okay, it’s more of Sean’s fingers poking my ribs. “Avery, wake up.”

I want to roll over and stay here. I must mutter something to that effect with an expletive on the end for emphasis, because Sean laughs and says, “You can’t stay here. Come on.” He scoops me up and I get a dopey grin on my face. He’s going to carry me like a bride over a threshold. Internally I sigh, because he’s the most awesome man alive, but it’s short lived. Sean drops my legs so I’m upright. They slam into the floor of the plane and jar me awake. I thought he was going to drop me.

“Hey!” I rip my shoulders from his grip and spin around in time to see a light smile lace his lips. Damn it. Why does he have to look so beautiful? I bite back the slew of nasty things I was going to say and resort to something less insulting. “Asshat.”

That makes him laugh, full dimples and all. Sean must be hysterically tired because that wasn’t all that funny. “I’ll wear your ass any way you’ll let me.”

My face flames red and I glance around, assuming that we aren’t alone, and we’re not. The pilot heard him, and whoever is standing in the open doorway of the plane. I punch his arm, which makes him laugh more. Note to self, stop calling Sean an ‘asshat.’ Apparently it makes him think about doing sexy things with my butt. Psh. What a child. The expression must cross my face, because Sean’s blue eyes go wide.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“No, Mr. Jones,” I answer sarcastically, “I’d never roll my eyes at you. Once I started, I’d just keep going and God knows they would have fallen out by now.”

Sean’s smile vanishes as he leans in close to my ear, “You’ll pay for that.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” We’re eye to eye, nose to nose, and a kiss apart. Sean is charged, like a huge magnetic field and it feels impossible to keep the tiny bit of space between us. As he breathes, the rise of his chest brushes against mine and shoots tingles through my body. A smug look crosses my face, and I tilt my head to the side and whisper in the most seductive voice I can manage, “Asshat.”

His eyes darken and this primal look comes over his face, before he presses those lids shut. I want to kiss both of them and hold him in my arms, but the look he has says things won’t be like that tonight—or today. I’ve lost track of time.

When his eyes open, there’s a jolt that travels through me when that wicked smile lines his face. Sean raises his fist to his mouth and bites it for half a second and then gives me a gaze that makes my heart pound fast and furious. “Let’s get your ass inside, Miss Smith, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Girlish giggles erupt from me even though I try to swallow them down. My emotions shorted out hours ago. My hands cover my mouth, but I can’t stop. Suddenly I see Sean’s hand fly and the next thing I know, he slaps my butt hard. My hands move to cover my stinging hindquarters and I turn to stare at him, gaping.

He grins, “What? I thought you wanted to stop laughing?”

Oh God. That makes it worse. More incoherent thoughts tickle my stomach, stopping only after Sean helps me down the steps from the jet. I stop abruptly and look around. There are tall rafters and, hay? “Are we in a barn? Seriously? We hopped in your private jet to hide out in a barn?” I must look bizarrely worried, because Sean is kind to me. Maybe he thinks my brain broke on the plane.

“It’s a hanger.”

I point to the corner, “There’s hay.”

“Yes, it’s for the horses. Where else should I store the shipments when they arrive?”

I shrug and start giggling again. “I don’t know, in a barn?”

Sean doesn’t reply. Instead he grabs my arms and pulls me from the hanger and out into the open. “Smart ass.”

“Ah, back to my ass again.”

“Your ass is going to be sore if you keep talking about it.”

“Psh, so is yours.” Yeah, I have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, but it sounded good.

That makes him look over at me. Amusement dances in his tired eyes. “I look forward to it.”

Oh, shit. It figures he’d be into anything and everything. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? I change the topic. We’ve been walking through a field. The grass is knee high, and early morning sunlight makes the dead grass look golden. It’s pretty, but it appears that we’re going to walk on forever since there’s nothing to see but grass and trees.

“Where are we?” Just as the question slips out of my mouth, I see a beautiful house. It’s a log cabin with huge shimmering windows. There’s a stream that runs behind it, cutting the golden grass in two like a long blue ribbon. My jaw drops at the same time that my feet stop. It looks like something from a ski magazine, and not one of the exclusive tailored penthouses where Sean Ferro normally resides.

“One of my homes.” His voice softens, and almost sounds somber. “Come on. I’ll show you around.” We walk up to the front, and go up the steps to a wraparound porch. As Sean puts a key in the door, I survey the area. The view from here is breathtaking. I can see the clearing we walked through, the stream, a gleaming lake in the distance, and it’s all nestled between mountains that look positively blue in the early morning sun.

Sean pushes the door open and holds it for me. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to go inside. My chest constricts as I walk past him and step into the cabin. I’m barely inside before I spurt out, “Wow.”

My neck cranes back and I stare at rafters that are twenty feet or more above my head. One end of the cabin is made from glass—twenty feet of glass. It’s insane. The view from the porch is nothing compared to the one from this huge window. I’m drawn to it, and slowly cross the cabin. The floors are dark, hand carved wood with a distressed finish. There’s a state-of-the-art kitchen with butcher block counter tops and rustic cabinets, but I don’t stop. The window is amazing. I pass a pristine white bed with a wrought iron canopy and velvety drapes that look soft enough to sniff. I bet they smell like the Snuggle bear. I’m totally smelling them later.

Stopping in front of the window, I look out and can’t help but smile. But something is way off. This seems so unlike Sean, and he’s barely stepped through the door. He’s standing there with it open behind him, like he might bolt. Turning, I ask, “What is this place?”

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