“You’ll give me my story?” I repeat, still not grasping what he’s telling me.
“Yes.” His gaze doesn’t falter. “You didn’t think this…that we were anything more than what this is, did you?”
The mocking tone in his voice makes my face heat up. I’m so stupid to have thought I could get through to him. All this ever was to him was another game.
“Come on, Charlotte.” He shakes his head and laughs. “Surely this doesn’t surprise you. I’m not the type of guy you want, anyway. This could be just what you need to launch your career. Ask me anything about my past and I’ll answer you truthfully. Nothing will be off-limits.”
I swallow the lump that is forming in my throat. He’s right. I’ll never have a chance like this again, and I think, deep down, I know that I can’t change who he is. What chance would we have? Maybe it would last a month or a year, but eventually things would go sour. Is that worth losing my career for?
“Okay,” I say, my voice hard. “You have a deal. What do you need me to do?”
Chapter 19
Jaxon
“I need you to get Ryan to confess to being responsible for my family’s deaths.”
She looks at me, wide-eyed, and then bursts into laughter. “Are you serious?”
My eyes narrow as I scowl at her. She straightens up, her laughter slowing to a stop. I love how intimidating I can be.
“Yes, I’m serious,” I growl. “I’m offering you something I’ve hidden from the world for years—a full, exclusive look into my life. What were you expecting to have to do for that?”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off.
“Not only do I want his confession, I want it recorded and complete.”
“How am I supposed to get that?” she protests. “He’s not going to just give that up.”
“You’re a reporter,” I fire back, my tone scathing. “Use your knowledge.”
She scowls at me, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder. My cock aches as I watch her lips form a pout. Fuck, she has no idea how gorgeous she is. Or what she does to me. I tried to get her out of my head with the help of one of my girls, but all I kept seeing was Charlotte. Hell, I couldn’t even get hard. I have no interest in anyone but her.
“You need to tell me what it is you want him to confess,” she says. “How exactly is he responsible for what happened?”
“You’ll find that out when you’ve done your part.” Did she think I was going to give her that for free?
“It will be much easier if I know what he’s supposed to have done,” she argues. “At least then I have somewhere to start.”
She has a point. I sigh and sit down on the edge of her bed. How little can I get away with telling her? If I leave out any vital points, it could end up wasting valuable time. My head resting in my hands, I relive one of the worst moments of my life.
“What do you know about my parents’ deaths?” I ask. Her eyes drop and I smirk. “Or should I ask, what don’t you know?”
“I did my thesis on your parents’ murder,” she says, defending herself. “Anyway, shouldn’t my knowledge work to your advantage?”
“I guess it will,” I agree. “So the police deemed it a ‘random’ home invasion. After months of investigation they came up with nothing to link it to any of my father’s associates, no indication that there was anything suspicious in his or my mother’s lives. They couldn’t find anything to suggest the attack was targeted.”
“But you don’t believe this?” Charlotte presses.
I shake my head. “I was young at the time, but there were things I knew that the police didn’t. Things I was embarrassed to know about, things that would have ruined my family’s reputation.”
I open my eyes and stare at the plush carpet below my feet. The same carpet I found my father lying on when I entered that house, minus the dark red blood stains. I find reminders of that day in everything I do. Some might find it odd that I’m still living in my childhood home, but it’s the only place I feel close to my family. And it’s a bonus that I know every time Ryan sets foot on my property he’s reminded of what happened.
“I was aware that my mother was seeing Ryan behind my father’s back. I saw them together,” I say, the words cutting through the air like a knife. I turn to study her expression. Her eyes wide, she looks at me in shock.
“You actually saw them? I figured that you must’ve found out about their relationship after they died,” she murmurs.
“No, I was lucky enough to walk in on Ryan fucking my mother.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “Try erasing that image from your memory. The night before they were killed I saw Ryan and my mom arguing. Ryan was pressuring her to leave my dad.”