Bad Billionaire (Bad Billionaires 1)

“No. I’d never seen him before.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this has to do with you,” she said, her voice cracking. “And I thought maybe that was what he… whoever this is actually wanted. For the police to start bothering you. For you to get in trouble.”

Some fucker had pushed her down the stairs, and she was still looking out for me. I truly didn’t deserve this woman. Still, I was glad she hadn’t gone to the cops. I would take care of this myself. “Some people from my old life are on my case,” I told her, figuring I owed her at least part of an explanation. “They want me to get involved with their shit again. Illegal stuff.”

She stared at me in shock. “Someone wants you to drive?”

I shook my head. “Not driving. They’ve heard I came into some money. They want me to help them front a deal. A shipment coming into the harbor.”

Olivia put her hand to her stomach, as if it was turning. “Drugs?” she said. “Someone wants to drag you into a drug deal? Devon, you can’t do that. You just got out of prison, out of that life. You just got the opportunity to start new. You can’t.”

She was worried about me. Yet another indication that I didn’t deserve her. “I know,” I agreed. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to. And I’m not going to.”

“Which is why someone just pushed me down the stairs.” She sounded shaky, but she also sounded angry. Good. That was good.

“Olivia, I’m going to take care of it.”

“How?”

“I’m figuring that out. But this is not going to stand. I’m telling you that.”

She looked at me for a moment, and I had the uncanny feeling she could see the fire inside me, the flames of rage that were consuming me from the inside out. Then she said something that surprised me. “If you hurt someone, I’ll never forgive you. Never.”

“Olivia,” I said. “Someone just pushed you down the stairs. Whoever he is, I’m going to break his fucking bones.”

Her voice was shaking but strong. “If you do, it will be over between us. Forever.”

I gripped the wheel. Fuck. All I wanted was to find Craig Bastien and bash his creepy white teeth in. But she was serious. She would end us. And there was nothing, absolutely nothing, I was willing to do to push her away from me—even if I didn’t deserve her. “Okay,” I said. “I won’t hurt anyone.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“You should go to the police,” she said. “Report this drug deal. Give them all the details you know.”

And then you won’t be pushed down the stairs. You’ll be dumped in a ditch with a bullet in you, I thought, but instead I said, “I’m going to handle it.” I glanced at her. “Without hurting anyone. Leave it to me.”

She rubbed her forehead. She suddenly looked close to tears.

If she cried, I would lose my shit. “Babe,” I managed.

“It’s okay. It’s just been a long night.” She scrubbed at her skin as if trying to wake it up. “Do you know I used to draw you?”

I blinked, trying to follow. “What?”

“Before I met you.” Her voice had gone quiet, a little dreamy. “I used to see you coming and going from your place out my window. And I used to draw you. I think I must have two dozen sketches in my apartment somewhere.”

I didn’t know what to make of that. I’d never known anyone to draw me before. “I noticed you too,” I said. “But I didn’t want to creep you out. And I can’t draw.”

That got me a smile, though it was faint. “You’re easy to draw. So easy. Your lines are perfect. From every angle, in every light. It’s a pleasure to draw you because you never look bad. If you wanted to be an artist’s model, you’d be in high demand. I never got tired of it. You’re perfect.”

We were pulling into my driveway in Diablo. The house sat in front of us, patiently waiting in the dark. What she’d said to me, offbeat as it was, was beautiful. A compliment. And at the same time it made me feel like something was crushing my throat. Like something was ending.