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Ruthless (Fractured Farrells: A Damaged Billionaire Series Book 1) Page 5
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Page 5
“No, I’m not generous. That’s the thing, Jean. I know I’m the bad guy. I’m just not afraid to admit it.”
Jean rubbed at her wrists as she glared at him from underneath her lashes.
He wondered whether he’d grabbed her harder than he thought, but it was too late to go back now.
“What about the real girl?”
“What real girl?”
“Walter Farrell’s daughter? The rightful family member we’re stealing this money from.”
Oh yeah. Because Jean didn’t know she was the rightful inheritor. “She’s dead.”
“What?”
“Walter had me keep tabs on her. When she had a nasty car crash a few years back, I didn’t have the heart to tell him. If I thought that lie would screw me out of what I was owed, I would’ve let the old man’s heart break.”
Jean’s lips tightened. “That’s so sad. She died without ever knowing her true father.”
Colin had to fight the urge to shake his head. Why couldn’t she be heartless like everyone else in the world? It would make everything so much easier for her.
“The world is a damn tragic place, Jean. And it would be for people like us, too, unless we claim our place in it.”
She smiled bitterly. “Please don’t compare us. I’m nothing like you.”
Wasn’t that the truth. “Just agree to come with me. A few days of travel, more legal paperwork than you ever wanted to do in your lifetime and you’ll be set forever.”
“Unless I go to prison.”
“You won’t go to prison. I’ll make sure of it.”
“How can you make promises like that?”
Besides the fact that she had every legal right to that inheritance? “What exactly do you think my job was with Walter Farrell?”
Her eyes wandered around the room before suddenly widening, and he knew she saw his guns.
Guys like that don’t do their own dirty work. Her mother’s words came back to her. Jean took a step back. She never should’ve come here. Except she couldn’t leave yet. Not until she either had the money to give to Eric or got Colin to call Eric to work things out.
She looked back to Colin, searching his face for any sign of a reasonable, caring person. But all that was there was cold emptiness in a beautiful, much too hard exterior. Hard because of muscles, not hard because of...
Damn it. Jean turned around, facing the bed and blocking out Colin from her line of vision. She needed space to think and to clear her mind, and his dark motel room wasn’t doing anything to help her jumbled mind.
“Just say yes,” he said from behind her. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“But—”
“But you’ll save your mother. You’ll take money from someone not alive to claim it and from a bunch of guys too rich to realize it’s gone. Your moral code will be safe. Devote the rest of your life to charity if you want. But you need to say yes.”
“I know!” she shouted as she rested her head in her hands. “Can you please stop saying it, though? I really hate the idea of me helping you with anything right now.”
“I’ll be nicer after this.”
“Now that you have what you want. But you’ll still be the bad guy, won’t you?”
“I’ll be the bad guy on your side.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “Great. So what do I have to do?”
“Pack a bag. We’ll be hopping on the next plane out of here and we’ll be in New York by tonight.”
“And you have everything planned out?”
“Everything.”
“But what about his other sons? How can I pass as this guy’s daughter when I’ve never met him?”
“Just be yourself. His real daughter never met him so you don’t need to know anything about anyone. I’ll do all the talking and all you have to do is sit back and wait for a check.”
“That sounds too easy.”
“Trust me. Nothing about this is easy. I’m just doing all the legwork so you don’t have to.”
She smiled sardonically as she turned to face him. “Are you expecting me to thank you?”
He stepped closer until only an inch of space separated them. “I expect you to pay me.”
She tilted her head back to stare defiantly up at him. “And what makes you think I will? They’ll think I’m the real thing. Once I get that check, I won’t owe you a thing.”
“Trust me.” He leaned closer. “The old man screwed me over after he died. You won’t have death to hide behind. I’m not the kind of guy you want to rip off.”
She opened her mouth to challenge him but thought better of herself. As angry as she was at him, as much shit as he’d put her through in the short time she’d known him, she doubted he’d go through with his threats. Was he really the type like Eric to rig an “accident”?
Jean didn’t want to know. “The bank should still be open for a few hours if we want to stop by and take out money. I’ll pay you back once I get this magical check we keep talking about.”
Colin shook his head and finally backed away from her, reaching to the space between the large bed and the wall to pull out a duffel. “No need. Consider this a peace offering from me to you.” He tossed the bag on the bed.
Jean hesitantly leaned forward and pulled the bag toward her. She let out a soft whistle when she unzipped it to expose the rolls of cash. “Damn. You just had this laying around?”
“I knew you’d come here for cash and I want to get out of here as soon as possible. It pays to be prepared.”
She nodded but was distracted by looking at all the stacks of twenties. More money than she’d ever seen in her lifetime. And he was going to give it to her. Well, give it to her to give to someone else. If he was this willing to put up ten grand of his own money, maybe that meant he really thought his plan was going to work.
She could only hope, because it seemed as if she was going in on this plan for the long haul. And as painful as that was to think about, it meant she would have to trust him.
She shuddered at the thought and grabbed the bag. “Let’s get this over with then.”
Colin held onto the handle in Jean’s old truck as she sped down the old country roads. He didn’t know whether this was how she normally drove or whether she was working out her stress on the roads, but he figured it was best for his safety if he didn’t mention it.
She was already on edge. If he insulted her driving, she’d probably go off the deep end. Or worse—drive faster.
“So Katherine lives at a motel?” he asked, trying to bring her focus back to the here and now.
Her hands tightened on the wheel. “I thought you knew everything about me.”
“I know a lot about you. Not about your mother.” At least not about her recent living activities.
“Katherine’s been kicked out of so many apartments it’s hard for her to find a place to stay. She bounces around, sleeping on friends’ couches or saving up enough to get her a few weeks at some of the local motels. Except for the not paying thing, she’s a pretty good guest so they don’t mind having her.”
“And why doesn’t she stay with you?” Jean stiffened and he could tell he hit a nerve. Which confirmed his suspicions about why her mother wasn’t welcome in her home. “So the last time she stayed with you didn’t end well?”
“I’m grateful to her for giving me life,” said Jean carefully. “But that’s about it.”
“So why not turn around and go back home? Keep this for yourself and let her cards fall where they may? You’re not the one who talked her into taking all these loans. I’m sure you told her to curb the gambling hundreds of times before. Just let her go.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to think of your mother on the streets? Homeless? Of course not. That would require a heart, wouldn’t it? You probably don’t even have a mother. Some sort of robot out of a test tube or something.”
Now it was his turn to stiffen as he narrowed his eyes at her. “My mother was murdered when I
was ten.” He said the words simply, with no emotion. That part of himself had died with his mother. Died with the part of him that gave a shit about other people. But if she wanted to think of him as another person she could relate to, it would be easier if she knew more about his past.
As expected, she jerked around to look at him and then back at the road. “Jesus... I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“It was a long time ago. But at the time it was hard to deal with. Believe it or not, I do know what it’s like to care about parents. The difference is that my mom actually cared about me.”
That got Jean back on the defensive. “Hey, she cares about me, okay?”
“I’m sure she does. When it’s convenient for her.”
“Takes one to know one,” she shot back, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe you should stop your bitching since it’s only me caring about her that got me to agree to your stupid plan.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll shut up.” She was right. It was her mother who tipped the scales. He should be grateful for this crutch instead of trying to talk sense into her. But he didn’t like the idea of more people using Jean.
He wasn’t even comfortable using her, even if his way would result in her being set for life.
Colin kept his mouth shut for the next five minutes until she pulled in to the parking lot of another motel. This one was two freeway exits away from his and in an obviously cheaper part of town. The pool was filled but looked as if it had way too many other organisms calling the water home for anyone to want to swim in it.
The doors looked dated and less than secure; the railing on the stairs and on the outdoor corridor to the second-story rooms was rusted and about to fall off. “Seems...homey.”
“It’s better than under an overpass.” Jean put her truck into park and hopped out, bag in hand. She hadn’t let Colin touch the bag since he’d first given it to her in his room. At least she was smart enough to not trust him.
He stepped outside and he glanced warily around them. He wouldn’t want to be out here for more than thirty seconds, let alone live here. But Jean strode confidently toward the stairs and he followed her. They’d get this over with and then start packing. Not that she needed to bring much. He had a feeling Jean might get a kick out of shopping in the city. Colin had seen more than one of Walter’s mistresses return from shopping sprees with arms full of bags. Jean didn’t really seem like the shopping spree type, but that might just be because she never had the chance.
But if she wanted to run in the same circles as the rest of her family, she’d need a new wardrobe anyway. Either way, he was going to avoid insulting her clothing choices until after they were on a plane and out of Arkansas.
Once Jean was outside room 212, she knocked gently. Notably more gently than she had on his door that morning.
“Mom!” she called. “I have your stuff.” She knocked again and the door opened, with Katherine Hill standing there.
Katherine smiled brightly at Jean before she noticed Colin was there. Her smile faltered and Colin didn’t do a damn thing to put her at ease.
“That’s so great to hear,” said Katherine uneasily. “How did you find him?”
He opened his mouth, but Jean interrupted. “He doesn’t matter.” She handed over the bag. “This is for you. Get it to Eric right now, okay?”
Katherine took the bag and looked inside, letting out a deep sigh of relief. “Oh my goodness, Jean. You’re so good to me. How did you...” She trailed off as she looked at Colin.
He smiled now, but not a comforting one. “She got it from me.”
Jean turned and gave him a light whack on his shoulder, as though to dare him to bring up his no-hitting policy. He gave her a pass and settled on giving Katherine a hard time instead. “You didn’t ask Jean where she’d get the money from before? What the hell did you think was going to happen?”
Katherine took a step back as her face paled. “Jean loves me. I knew she’d take care of me.”
He started to say more, but Jean reached back to grab his hand and squeezed it as hard as she could. It was probably meant to be painful, but the unexpected contact was enough to shut him up.
“Don’t worry about it, Mom. Colin and I are going to go out of town for a little bit, so I won’t be around. I’ll still have my phone if you need to get a hold of me.”
Katherine nodded even as she still eyed Colin. “Okay, but I don’t understand. Where are you going? Aren’t you worried about missing work?”
“I’ll explain everything to you later, okay? For now, I just need to know that you’re going to be all right. And that you’re taking this right to Eric.”
Katherine let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t have a death wish, Jean. This is going straight to Eric. Promise.”
“No trying to double your money first. No chances at all.”
“Yes, yes. I understand.”
Jean stared intently at her mother. Colin was tempted to smile at the whole exchange but stopped himself. He half thought Jean should’ve taken the money right to Nasser herself, but considering that would slow them down, he hadn’t recommended it.
“So does this mean I’m not getting my bag back?”
Jean started to pull her hand away, probably to whack at him again, but he held her hand in his, leaving her to roll her eyes at him. “I have a lot to clear up before I go. Please stay out of trouble, Mom.”
Katherine nodded as she stepped back, clearly not going in for a hug. He could tell they didn’t have a hugging type of relationship.
“Nice meeting you,” lied Colin as he tugged Jean away.
Katherine looked as if she wanted to say more, but she just backed away and shut the door as they headed back to the stairs. Jean tugged more forcefully at her hand now that her mother wasn’t looking on, but Colin still held tight. “Why didn’t you tell her who I was?”
“Because I don’t want her to feel bad.”
“Maybe people like her need to feel bad.”
Jean stopped midway down the flight of stairs. “Do you think I’ve never done that? Do you think I haven’t told Katherine she’s a shitty mother fifty thousand times before? And do you want to guess how many times it made her a better mother? Zero. But every time I said it, I was the one who felt shitty. So please don’t give me life advice, okay?”
“Fine.” He released Jean and let her walk ahead of him down the stairs and back to her truck. He slid into the passenger seat right as she started the engine. “Why don’t you drop me off at my room? I’ll pack up and check out and I’ll pick you up at your trailer.”
“Let me guess. If I run you’ll find me?”
“I recommend you don’t try running.”
“Your threats are starting to get repetitive.”
“If you stop challenging me, I’ll stop threatening you.”
She looked over to him with a sardonic smile. “I can’t help it. You’re so cute when you’re angry.”
Jean pulled open the top drawer in her dresser and looked down at her tops in dismay. She couldn’t think of one thing that would look right in New York City. Weren’t people there supposed to dress sophisticated and classy? She had cutoff shorts and a huge collection of branded t-shirts she’d gotten for free over the years.
She supposed her going-out clothes weren’t too bad. Considering how Katherine dressed, Jean had always leaned more conservative, so her “dressy” tanks could work. Maybe.
Oh well. According to Colin, she didn’t have to pretend to be anyone she wasn’t. She looked the part and was desperate enough that he could manipulate her into doing what he wanted: Show up. Fake a DNA test. Get paid. Dressing well didn’t factor into that plan, thank goodness.
She settled on packing a mix of comfortable clothes and some of her “nicer” ones that would fit into her carry-on sized duffel bag. She would’ve been happy to make Colin pay for her to check luggage, but, considering she rarely ever traveled, she didn’t have any large
pieces of luggage.
Shoes...there was lots of walking in New York, right? So maybe no heels. Just the tennis shoes she wore every day at work and her flat boots. That would have to be enough, because she couldn’t fit much more in her bag.
She pulled the zipper shut and made her way to the bathroom to pull all her toiletries together. Wasn’t there some rule now about going through security? Some stuff had to be in a plastic bag?
Damn it. She leaned against the sink and pulled her phone out of her back pocket, trying to bring up the TSA regulations. Hopefully they’d at least make it easy to find.
Someone rang the bell to the trailer and Jean looked up from her phone. She’d hoped to get her speed packing done before Colin got there, but it looked as though she hadn’t made it. Stupid TSA. If it weren’t for that search, she so would’ve made it.
She didn’t know why it became so important for her to be ready before Colin got there. Maybe because he’d be standing over her with that judgey look while he waited for her to pack. She’d had enough of those judgey looks during her short conversation with Katherine to last her a lifetime.
Not that he had any reason to be angry at Katherine. If anything, he should be grateful for her addictions. Of course, there was always the option that he actually felt bad for all the shit Katherine had put her through, but Jean didn’t think that was very likely.
She hadn’t been lying. Colin was cute when he got pissed off. The little smoldering look he’d give her every time she challenged him. To be fair, he was always cute. As much as she hated to admit it. Usually a guy’s personality would have a bigger impact on her opinion of their attractiveness. The bigger the asshole, the less hot they were to her. The strange hidden talent had never failed her before.
But then Colin Carter walked into her life and her stupid brain somehow couldn’t get the idea that he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen out of her head.
So she did have to admit that pissing him off gave her a little thrill. Served him right.
The bell rang again and she sighed. Speak of the devil. She pushed away from the sink, crossed through the living room to the door and pulled it open. Except it wasn’t Colin’s impatient mug waiting for her.