This Cruel Love

“Everything okay?” Cill looked at me with trepidation on his face.

“Yeah. He said I should go and see him on Monday. It’s his annual shareholder’s meeting, and he thinks it’d be a good opportunity to drum up support for Jackson’s charity. A breakfast network and catch up kind of thing.”

Steve was staring at us as we spoke, and I didn’t like how he was eavesdropping on what was a private conversation. Luckily, some guy I’d never seen before came out from behind the bar, collecting the trash and making a total nuisance of himself. Not one for tolerance, Steve stomped off to the kitchens to carry on scowling.

“Do you think Jackson will mind me going?” I whispered nervously.

“Why would he mind? It’s your dad, Ryley. It’s no one else’s business but yours whether you see him or not.” Cill sighed. “Listen, I know he’s told you all about the whole fucked up revenge shit, but trust me when I say this; you are what’s important to him now. Not some over-exaggerated, well over-thought, useless revenge plan.” He leant closer to me as he spoke. “And between you and me, it always seemed crazy and insane anyway.”

I felt relieved to hear that from Cill. It wasn’t just me who thought Jackson was consumed by a rage that was unjustified.

“Plus, the guy is calling you his angel. I’m thinking you could ask for anything and he’d give it to you.”

We heard a grunt and both turned to find Steve stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking like he was chewing on a swarm of wasps. I narrowed my gaze at him, but it wasn’t worth the energy to call him out on it.

“Are you jealous, Stevie boy?” Cill’s brow was furrowed and he looked as perplexed by Steve’s interest in us as I was.

“Errr, no.” Steve pushed the fridge door closed a little too heavy-handedly, which made Emily shriek, then he stomped off back to the kitchens.

“What a drama queen. Ignore him. Go find your man and give him a much-needed distraction from all of that paperwork I’ve been avoiding that he’s no doubt drowning in up there.” Cill nodded upstairs, and I hopped off the bar stool, but stopped before I got to the door.

I checked that nobody was in earshot and turned my attention back to Cill.

“Should I be worried? About other women? Exes?”

Jackson had consumed my heart and soul in a way no other man ever had; it kind of scared me. I needed to know if I had any skeletons to contend with from his extensive, and safely-guarded secret closet.

r /> “Ryley.” Cill looked down his nose at me and smirked. “That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about with him. Ever.”

“How do you know?” I knew only too well how crazy a scorned ex could get.

“Because he’s never kept anyone around long enough to fool them into thinking he gives a shit. Except you, of course. You’ve always been the exception to the rules. You’re a game changer.”

I nodded, biting my lip. I didn’t realise how much I’d needed to hear that until now. It made the sick feeling in my stomach ease slightly. I swivelled on the spot, suddenly desperate to see him again, even though we’d only been apart for minutes. That man was like a drug to me, and I didn’t need rehab to feel better. Only him.

I tapped on his door lightly and let myself in. Jackson looked stressed out, and was running his hands through his hair as he scanned the stack of papers piled up on his desk.

“You okay? Need some help?”

He relaxed when he saw me, and beckoned for me to come in.

“Lock the door behind you, angel. I think I need something, or rather someone to take my mind off this shit.”

I pushed the door to and turned the lock until it clicked shut. His eyes never left mine as I stood watching him from the doorway, and I noticed a hint of the devil in him. Like he was plotting something dirty and forbidden. I glanced around the office, feeling familiar emotions stir inside me from the last time I was here. The Jackson I enjoyed being with at our home was an entirely different creature to the one sitting behind his desk now. This Jackson was more like the beast I’d met three months ago, albeit a less scary and more seductive one.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re plotting something?”

“Because I am, and this right here…” he swept his arms around his office, “…this is my kingdom.”

“You feel powerful here, don’t you?”

“I always feel powerful, angel, but here… I make all the fucking rules. Did you put on something black and lacy for me?”

I nodded, sucking on my bottom lip and sinking my teeth into it to stop me groaning at the thought of him peeling it off later.

“Then get that fine ass of yours over here.”

He rolled his chair back slightly to indicate that he wanted me in front of him. I sauntered over to where he sat, looking every inch the king he was in this world of his, and I perched on the edge of his desk.