Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (27 page)

I cut her off there. “Take it from someone who’s really great at second-guessing himself when it comes to family, it doesn’t help.”

She nods in agreement. She gets it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting still.

“Anyway, once I was packed and ready to go, he handed me a piece of paper. He said he knew a guy who could help me out with finding a place to stay and getting settled up here.”

“That must have gone well.”

Green purses her lips before continuing.

“He got me an interview with
The Chronicle
.” Now I see why she’d think her boss had something to do with this guy. “And he wired me some money to help me get my feet on the ground.”

“I see. Did he send random guys to your room nightly too?”

Green’s left eyebrow shoots up, and I know. “Not called for, sorry.” But you’ve gotta admit, it would make sense—the boy-toy kissing her the way he did. Like he owns her.

“I met Connor at a diner I stopped at to eat while I was looking for apartments. We hit it off.” Funny she knows what I’m thinking, right?

Epic eye roll.

“If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have landed the job at
The Chronicle
. He’s their accountant. He put in a good word for me.” She’s trying to sell this guy to me? Really?

“So you moved in with him?” Seems cheesy to me, even for Green.

“That wasn’t the plan, but, we started dating, and I was staying at a hotel. I thought I’d found a place after a few weeks, but at the last minute, the building manager gave it to someone else, so…”

“You don’t seem the type to depend on a sugar daddy, Green.”

“I was looking for months, Stiles. And honestly, somehow, it made sense at the time,” she tells me. Even she doesn’t get how it all happened, if I’m basing her thoughts on the expression of thoughtfulness that just flashed across her face. “Until…”

She doesn’t wanna tell me, whatever it is. “Until what, Green?” So I encourage her to keep talking even though I know I’m gonna hate what’s fucking coming next.

“Until it didn’t.” A rogue hand flails out in front of her. “I wanted to be a writer so I could tell
real
stories. I never planned on being the city’s go-to girl for crappy gossip about bogus crimes.” She genuinely seems disgusted with her choices. Something I can identify with.

Sometimes, I guess we see what we want to see instead of the plain fucking truth.

“And now?”

She bites her lip.

“Green?”

“And now everything’s a mess. I broke things off with Connor about a month ago.”

Funny way of showing it, if you ask me.

“But?”

There’s always a
but
, ladies and gentlemen.

“It was getting to the point where we were inseparable. He was putting a lot of pressure on me to take the next step. He’s a great guy. I don’t know why I wanted out so bad. But it’s difficult to find a place in Redemption that I can afford. Then there was all this pressure at work, and my position was getting scrutinized.”

“Green.”

“Right. Anyway, we haven’t slept together since I broke it off, but I know he wants me back. I think he might be manipulating some of the apartment building board members around town into purposefully not giving me an apartment.”

Possible.

He
is
an accountant. Manipulator of money.

Dick.

One thing at a time, Stiles.

“Okay. First things first. We need to find you a place.”

“But I just told you─”

“Not a problem. I know a guy.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t. But I’m getting you the fuck out of that apartment whether dipshit likes it or not.”

I might just clock him upside his smug fucking face, when I go to give him the good news, for good measure.

Green fidgets and I can see her chewing on the inside of her mouth.

“What?”

“What what?” She genuinely thinks I don’t see it. Does she not know me better than that by now?

“Spill it, Green.”

She takes a breath in and lets it out, steadying herself for this next part of the conversation.

“Anonymous, whoever it is, was supposed to be friends with my dad, Stiles. When he wired me that money, I assumed it was a gift but-”

“Jesus.”

“He’s been threatening me lately. Saying it would be a shame if something happened to my dad if I didn’t…” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I fucking get it. As big a dill-hole as my father is, if someone threatened his life, I’d play along. At least, until I could track a motherfucker down and splice his ass open with the six-inch hunting knife I keep for emergencies.

Know what I mean?

“I’ve been paying him back in increments,” she insists. But we both know, at this point, the payback isn’t the goal.

“So you’re basically on his fucking payroll until death do you part.”

She shrugs. “I guess, technically? I don’t know any more, Stiles. I have no idea what to do here. I don’t know what his plans are for you, or what you have to do with anything that he deals with. I checked you out. You don’t do anything illegal. Not really anyway.”

“You checked me out?”

Of course, she checked me out. “Well, ya got something fucking right at least.”

Green’s face falls. That was a low blow, I know, but damn, I’m pissed the fuck off right now.

This guy is the real deal. Sucks you in, gets you comfortable, and before you know it, you owe him a favor. Or ten. People like this, it’s their way of bribing someone without that person actually realizing their being bribed.

In other words—blood money.

Once they’ve got you, they’ve pretty much got you.

My point is…

Hold up.

Something just clicked with my brain.

“Did you say your job
was
paying really well??” She doesn’t exactly misuse grammar, this one.

“Yeah.”

“Meaning?”

I’m thinking it could be anything from them firing her because they found out what she was up to, to her getting a promotion because what she’s up to could help them, a million ways to conspiracy.

“I quit.”

But I was definitely not thinking that.

“Why?”

“I’ve said it a hundred times, Stiles. I didn’t know you then. Now that I do, and I’m seeing what happened to Donnie as more than just another criminal getting what he deserved, I want to do more than just report on gossip.” She pauses. “I need to. And if I can’t do it for
The
Chronicle
, then I’ll find another way.”

Green impresses me. More so than anyone else I’ve met in Redemption. The fact that she’s willing to leave and cut ties with this asshole, or at least try to, says a lot more about her than what originally meets the eye.

“You surprise me, Green.”

“Well, there was one other thing that influenced me in the decision to leave.”

She’s blushing, and I want to know why.

“What’s that?”

“This.” She motions between us, and the entire mood of the evening changes for me. Just like that. I’ve gone from angry and about to give her a piece of my mind to take with her on her way out the door, to… I don’t know exactly how to describe it.

Hopeful?

“And what exactly is
this
?” I mimic her gesture between the two of us. Even though I don’t know what the fuck to call it at this particular point in time, I know there’s something.

I felt it.

She felt it.

I know she fucking felt it.

“This is real, Jackson.”

My blood stops, mid-motion, inside me. She’s not fooling me one bit, though. I know she pulled my first name out like that on purpose.

Element of surprise, ladies and gentlemen. Works every time.

I’m fighting the walls I’ve worked pretty damn hard to put up with her.

“Am I supposed to believe you?” I don’t want to. I want the wall to stay intact, quite honestly. I like it that way. Everything is very black and white with the wall up.

With every look she gives me, every touch of her hand on mine, she chips away at that shit.

“You know all my tells.” She makes it difficult. Her eyes don’t stray away from mine. She’s either playing it cool or she’s got nothing to hide now. The fidgeting is gone, and all her fucking hair is in her face.

“Maybe I need more than tells. Hell, maybe what I need is…” I don’t know if saying it out loud is smart or not. Jesus, I don’t even know if I know
how
to say this shit out loud.

“What, Jackson?” This time, my name is a whisper. The word is barely audible. But the way my name leaves her lips this time, I don’t know. She knows what I fucking need.

She’s always known.

It’s officially “shit or get off the pot” time.

So I take a step toward her and swallow down the goddamn walls.

“You.”

Damn. You’d think I’d choke on the words, but with her, it’s like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to say them. And fuck me, it’s out there. Nothing to do but wait for a sign. I mean, hell, either she’s into this or she’s not. Right?

“I want you, too.” She says it like she’s been waiting, too. Like it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world to say.

That’s my fucking sign.

“You sure this time, Green?”

I step closer to her. She nods as she gets up to take a step backward. A complete and fucking contradiction to what she’s saying.

“’Cause I don’t wanna hear any of this professionalism bullshit halfway to hard.”

I was more than halfway last time. Let’s not pussyfoot around that fuckery.

“I’m sure,” she breathes out.

I open up a few buttons on my shirt as I take another few steps in her direction. Anticipation hasn’t always been my strong suit. “Why are you fucking backing away from me then?”

Maybe she’s playing me.

Maybe she’s hasn’t worked her way through this particular fucking scenario, and it’s throwing her off her game.

She shakes her head as she backs up again. “I’m not backing away from you.”

Maybe I don’t give a fuck either way.

“Then what do you call it?”

She’s at the hallway now. She turns her head slightly, then smiles when she meets my eyes again. “Leading.”

When her back hits the wall, I close the gap between us.

She seems nervous but in a good way.

We’re close. I can smell her shampoo of the day. I can’t say I know the scent off the top of my fucking head or anything, but it’s inviting. It’s making me wanna do things to her I haven’t done in a long damn time.

“You teasing me, Green?”

A slight shake of her head is all she gives me.

I slide a hand around the base of her neck.

“You?” Like she’s really gotta ask me.

“No such luck,” I tell her. “And Connor?”

“What about him?”

“You sure there isn’t some lingering doubt about cutting the poor guy loose?”

She doesn’t hesitate when she tells me, “Definitely not.”

“You aren’t gonna change your mind about that?” It’s been known to happen.

Green looks me straight in the eyes when she shakes her head. “Nope.”

I’m not an idiot, despite what a lot of people think. I know I’m gambling here. Typically, I like better odds, but quite frankly, I’m fucking tired of second guessing this woman.

At some point, I’ve gotta go with my gut.

And my gut tells me it’s time to let shit happen.

So with that, all the adrenaline, anger, and confusion from tonight is gone. Instead of entertaining the idea that this is a bad idea, I forgo the formalities and dip into a kiss that says I believe her.

We’ve kissed. It’s not like it’s rocket science or anything, but this isn’t curiosity or me being “interested” because she’s new and a mystery or a
damn she’s sexy
kinda thing.

It’s all or nothing. Everything’s out there. No hidden agendas or conspiracy theories. No Walker lurking, or
Anonymous.
No boy-toys or family bullshit. This is up close and personal with all the suspicions and questions and pent-up frustration coming through in one fell swoop.

She arches, pressing herself up against me in just the right way. It throws my libido into overdrive.

My fingers drift from her neck to her shirt, and I do her the honors of unbuttoning the damn thing. She lets it fall to the floor when I push the sleeves over her shoulders, and when she moves to work on my jeans, I grab her wrists.

I smile as I press her hands against the wall. I slide them up above her head. I clasp them together, pinning them there with my right hand, while the left drinks in her skin.