Page 63 of In Your Light

Ciaran fought a smile when he shook Michael’s hand.

Only then did Sawyer turn his attention back to Bickell. “So what brings you to our quaint little town today?”

Bickell eyed him for a moment. “Got somewhere we can chat?” He nodded to the shops and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Out of this miserable cold.”

“Ah, it’s a beautiful day in Tenebrae,” Sawyer said. And it was. The clouds were low, mist covered the edges of the cove, and it was freezing fucking cold.

It was perfect.

“Come this way,” Sawyer said, heading toward the police station. He briefly considered taking them to the café but didn’t want Bickell to see any of the other guys, and he also didn’t want to extend him any hospitality.

He wasn’t welcome here.

Sawyer walked into his police station and pulled over two chairs. Michael looked at the jail cell with something akin to horror on his face, whereas Bickell clearly thought it was cool.

He went over, gripped one bar, and, for some stupid reason, tried to shake it. “Ah, old iron. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.”

Ciaran almost snorted because those bars were barely weeks old.

“Ever had to lock anyone up in here?” Bickell asked. “Don’t suppose you’d have much trouble around these parts.”

“Sure, I have,” Sawyer answered seriously. “Me. I locked myself in there so I wouldn’t drown myself in the water. But then a sea monster came and ripped right through those bars to get me.”

Bickell laughed, but Sawyer didn’t even crack a smile. He held up his arm to show the plaster cast. “She broke my arm and everything. Then the Men in Black guys turned up and fixed the bars with their alien technology.”

Ciaran sighed. “It’s not aliens, babe.”

“It fucking was,” Sawyer said.

Bickell’s smile died when he realised they weren’t joking.

Ciaran cleared his throat, a smile pulling at his lips. He was leaning against Sawyer’s desk, looking sexy as hell. “So, Mr Bickell, what brings you to Tenebrae?” Ciaran asked, tone casual.

Bickell took his seat, giving Sawyer a strange look before turning his focus to Ciaran with a PR smile and his media spiel about his grand plans to open a mine. He rattled off numbers on job creation, economy, tourism, and improved infrastructure.

It was a load of wank.

“First step is to rebuild the bridge,” he proclaimed. “That’s a ten-million-dollar construction right there. It’ll open up your town to tourism. I couldn’t believe it when they told me the only access to here was by sea or air. You’ve been cut off for so many years, it’s a wonder any businesses here survive.”

“It’s how we like it,” Sawyer replied. “We don’t want tourism.”

Bickell’s gaze met his, and Sawyer could see the cold billionaire businessman now and not the smiling PR face he’d pretended to be.

“You’re getting a free ten-million-dollar bridge,” Bickell began.

“Free?” Sawyer replied. “Free at what cost? What’s the environmental cost? I’m not talking about the bullshit figures in your environmental assessment report. I’m talking about the damage to flora and fauna, to heritage protected forests that have been here since the dawn of time. Tell me, how much does bribery cost these days? What was that magic number? It wasn’t zero, was it? It’s not free at all.”

Bickell’s face darkened, and his jaw set. Well, Sawyer thought it did. His jowls wobbled, so maybe not.... Sawyer snorted, which made Bickell even madder, if the reddening of his face was any indication.

“I came here as a gesture of goodwill,” he barked, all puff and bluster.

“I don’t give a fuck what you came here for,” Sawyer said.

Ciaran sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples.

Sawyer knew he was way out of line, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Bickell stood up. “Your superiors will hear of this!”