“Might take you up on that. We’ll have the paperwork transferred to Bobby,” William says as Liam turns and talks on the phone once more.
I stay on the couch, rooted to the spot as Tommy leads them to the hallway with the elevator. I hear murmurs, but nothing specific before Tommy comes back into the living room alone.
I don’t even let him get close before I ask. I’m afraid to, but I have to know.
“What was that? What just happened?”
He pulls out his phone and nods at it, typing a few things before looking up at me.
“That, my Crown Jewel, was me buying you. Your debt, and you, belongto me now.”
Chapter 13—Tommy
“What?”
Watching the color fade from her cheeks brings me a satisfaction I wasn’t expecting. She’s worried, but unlike when she saw the gun Will showed, she’s talking. Not clamming up. Could mean a few things, but I’m only going to focus on the one I want.
That she isn’t scared of me.
She sees me. She might not see all, but she sees the scar. I made sure she heard me speaking earlier. I want her to fear things, but not to be scared. Some might think they’re the same, but I never have.
Fear, you can work with. Fear can drive a person to not fail. Can make a person do things to overcome it.
But being scared? That shit goes deeper. Scared is what you bring a shrink in for. What you cower under your bedsheets for.
If Bobby were here, he’d say they were the same thing, but in my mind, they’re as opposite as yin and yang.
“You heard me.”
I move beyond the couch and head to the fridge to get some water. I’m not drunk by any means, but I drank more than I expected. Water used to feel like it was for the weak, but I’ve grown older. Not as old as some in the family, but Inow know I prefer to wake up without a headache. And downing water before bed usually helps.
“So, I pay you now instead of them?”
I crush the bottle and toss it into the trash as I shake my head. “Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
She hasn’t left the couch, but her eyes have been on me the entire time. I’ve felt them since I pulled her out of the bathroom. And I’m not going to deny that I like the feel of them. The weight of her watching me. Again, not because she’s scared of me.
There is power in holding her eyes.
I’ve held others’ before, but not like this. They looked at me because they wanted something. Sex. Drugs. Connection to the family. She looks at me as if I could help. Me. Not the money or the family name, just me.
Payton barely has a clue who and what my family is. I’m sure she’s heard rumors, but if she grew up as sheltered as I think she did, very little of my world touched hers till her parents died. That loss sent her spiraling straight into the Kings’ hands—and now mine.
I still can’t believe she went to them. No idea how she even found out about them. I would thank them if I didn’t know they took her on fully aware that she’d never truly be able to pay them back. Payton probably didn’t even know that. It’s in the fine print. The interest rates with loan sharks are the worst, and they get higher the longer the loan goes unpaid in full. Payment plans are like mortgages in that you pay way more than the original debt is worth. You just keep paying till they say to stop.
I study her for a heartbeat.
“You belong to me.”
“I won’t sleep with you as payment.”
Her words hang between us. She said them so quickly, as if that was the only thought on her mind. Good or bad, it was there.
Her skin is pale, paler than most. But it’s because she was inside dancing most of her life and had no time for sunbathing. It’s great for the stage, but not so great to hide a blush. It starts on her neck and grows up, touching as high as her cheekbones and the tip of her nose. I would have thought it would have gone all the way up, but since it doesn’t, I wonder if it traveled south instead.
Is she embarrassed by the implication of money for sex or… was she thinking about me and having sex before this?
