Remorseless (Fractured Farrells: A Damaged Billionaire Series Book 3) (12 page)

She shook her head as she sneered at him. “You’re the one who caused this.”

“I’m just the instrument that was used.”

“You—”

He held up his hand. “I’m not trying to excuse anything. If you want to blame me, go ahead. I do every fucking day. But there’s more than me at play.”

Alecia shifted her weight and stared at the floor for a few long moments of silence. “Fine. I’ll give you everything I found. But this happened years ago. I’m at peace, really.”

As sure as she tried to sound, he could hear the pain still in her voice. The pain he had caused. “I can meet you here tomorrow and you can give me—”

“I’m not giving you physical copies of anything. I can send them to you, though. What’s your email address?”

Email address? Fuck.
Julie told him and he forgot. “I can give you my phone number.” He’d memorized that easy enough.

“I’ll give you mine.” She rummaged through the desk until she found some scrap paper and wrote down a number on it. “Here. You send me your email address tonight. And I don’t want to ever see you show up here again.”

He took the paper from her and nodded his thanks.

“Now I’m going back to work. I don’t expect you to hang out any longer.”

“I’m going. Promise.” He put the paper into the back pocket of his jeans and left the manager’s office. As he got closer to the bar, the music seemed louder than it had been before. The rhythmic pounding of the electronic music was different than anything he liked before he went to prison.
Was this really something that Julie was into?

Apparently she was. He expected her to be fending off the advances of the douchebag who had been flirting relentlessly with her at the bar, but instead, she stood next to the jukebox, with a drink in hand, dancing. Douchebag was right next to her, except his uncoordinated movements paled in comparison to Julie’s. She’d left her flannel shirt on the barstool, so all she wore was her tank top and skintight jeans. With every beat, her hips dipped and swayed, the clear outline of her body not leaving anything to the imagination. The chorus of the song started, and she mouthed the lyrics as she dipped close to the floor and stood up. Even though douchebag was dancing with her, she was ignoring him. Her eyes were closed and she just seemed to be appreciating the music.

The song got more upbeat, and she jumped to the beat as she continued to mouth the lyrics. Whatever this song was, she knew every line and anticipated the beat, moving her hips and arms in perfect time while the drunk guy next to her looked as if he was going to fall over at any second. He could’ve stood back and watched her dance all night, but just then Alecia went back behind the bar and he met her eyes—her silently telling him to get the hell out. He pulled a few twenties out of his pocket and put them on the bar before he picked up Julie’s soft flannel shirt.

She was still far into the song as he walked up. He was still trying to figure out whether he should shout over the music or try to touch her to break her from her trance when she danced straight into him. Her eyes shot open and he set a hand on her waist to steady her. Her mouth opened but she closed it before she said anything.

Because it was so loud, Logan bent until he could speak into her ear. “We need to leave.”

Her brows drew together. He could tell she didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she took a deep drink of whatever was in her glass. It sure as hell wasn’t water. Then she handed it off to her drunk admirer and took her shirt from Logan as he set his hand at the small of her back and led her to the staircase.

“So when did you stop drinking water?” he asked once they were away from the pounding music.

“I stopped when I got a lovely phone call telling me about a man named Brandon Willis.”

Logan stopped and pulled her aside. “What?”

“Yep. I’m guessing your little girlfriend is related?”

“If I wanted to talk about this, I would’ve told you. Now, have you found us some five-star hotel to stay at yet?”

“You mean you’re not going to jam me in the car for another mystery road trip halfway across the country?”

“Denver isn’t that far from LA.”

“I’m half surprised you even told me we were leaving. Oh wait, you didn’t. You just wandered off and two minutes later you’re dragging me away from Jeffery.”

He frowned. “Who the hell is Jeffery?”

“My new friend. The one dancing with me.”

“The loser dancing around you?”

She drew back from him. “Do you have a problem with Jeffery?”

“Yeah. He’s a shitty dancer.”

“You’re jealous.”

“Fuck, Julie. We don’t have time for this. Do you have a hotel for us to go to or not? I think I saw one up the road we can go to.”

“You’re jealous and you can’t even admit it.”

“What the hell? Are you drunk?”

She snorted. “Please. You were gone for five minutes. It takes longer than that to get drunk. I’m pissed, Logan. You’ve been keeping things from me ever since we’ve met and now it’s becoming more and more of a pain in my ass. So excuse me for not bending over backward for you at the moment. Now, that annoying drunk guy was much more pleasant to hang out with, thank you.”

She continued up the stairs, leaving him speechless in the landing.
So...she knew he killed a man.
He figured she’d find out eventually, but he never knew what to expect. She was mad, but not...not in the way he would’ve thought. She wasn’t slapping him or telling him he was a horrible person. She hadn’t jumped in the car and left him without a backward glance. She was just pissed.

He ran up the stairs to catch up with her as she walked out of the building and to where the car was parked. “So we’re trying the place down the street then?”

“I’m not driving. You just tell me where we’re going.”

He slid into the driver’s seat and backed out. Julie was leaned back in her seat and looking out the window, avoiding his glance completely. “Are you okay with this still?”

“Okay with you dragging me everywhere while telling me nothing? Of course not. I haven’t been okay with it.”

“Not that. Knowing what I did.”

“What you did? I have no idea what happened. All I have is one tabloid journalist telling me you killed a guard. Is that what happened? What would make a playboy who’d been wrongfully convicted do that? Why was it swept under the rug when your father so obviously didn’t care what happened to you? Why don’t any of your brothers know? Why didn’t you tell them? Trust me—I don’t know anything.”

He saw the tall hotel in front of them and tried to figure out the best way to navigate the city streets to get there. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Am I allowed to ask questions now? I thought you weren’t telling me anything.”

“Are you pissed because I didn’t tell you I’m a murderer? I’m sorry! It’s not something I go around advertising.”

“Well, the entire world might find out now. If you’d told me, we could’ve gotten a jump on this.”

“But the fact that I killed a man isn’t what’s bothering you.”

That got her attention as she looked over at him. “I’ve been in a car with you for days. Did you expect me to be afraid of you now?”

“I—” He shook his head. He didn’t think he was capable of having this conversation right now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

She scoffed.

Apparently that apology wasn’t accepted.
But it was going to have to do. He wasn’t going to explain himself right now, and she would just have to get over it or book a plane back home. He found the hotel and parked in the area for guests to temporarily put their cars during check-in.

“This place is going to need ID,” she said. “Hold on and I’ll book the room.”

“Don’t you mean the rooms?”

“There’s still people who might want you dead and a media circus who could show up any day. One room, two beds. Think you’re adult enough to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Think you’re adult enough to not ask me to put my hands on you?” He almost apologized for being out of line, but a blush crept up her cheeks and she averted her gaze. She might be pissed, but she was still into him. The thought shouldn’t have made him happy, but it was a strange relief. She found out about Brandon Willis and she could still look in his direction. Not only look but—

“I’ll be right back. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she warned.

Before he could say anything else, she was walking into the nice lobby. While she was gone, Logan took out his new phone. He dug around in his email until he could find out what his own address was. While he was there, he realized he had new emails. It looked as if it was from Alex. Logan scrolled past it so he could copy his email address, and then he had to figure out how to text it to Alecia’s phone. She would be working until late, so he probably wouldn’t hear back from her until tomorrow. He’d been waiting years to meet up with her, and he was going to get some closure.

Julie came out with a bellboy right behind her. “Okay. I booked a room for the night. Harry here,” she motioned to the bellboy, “is going to take our bags up while we go park.” Julie walked around and got into the passenger’s side of the car. “Parking is ridiculously expensive. Here is the ticket for the structure on the east side of the building. The parking is going to be on the room bill.”

Still grumpy apparently.
He got out and helped Harry with the bags. After a really inconvenient turn into the parking garage, they found a spot. The elevator in the garage opened into the hotel and Julie gave him a copy of their room key. It was on the fortieth floor. While walking down the hallway, Logan realized that the doors seemed farther apart than normal. His suspicions were confirmed when he put his key into the door and opened it into a lavish suite. “What the hell is this?”

Julie came from behind him to look for where Harry had set her bags. “This is what you get when you’re booking a room at a hotel that’s already at ninety-nine percent capacity. All they had left were suites.”

The room was large and had a living area with a couch and top-of-the-line television. Through a set of double doors, there was a large, oversized bed.
One
large, oversized bed. “There weren’t any rooms that had two beds?”

“Do I look like a woman who wants to share a bed with you right now?” she asked.

He didn’t need to look to confirm that she didn’t look as if she was in the mood for anything.

“Besides, the couch folds out to a sofa bed. I’m not actually sleeping with you.”

“Julie—”

“I’m going to shower. Do you need to use the bathroom?”

“I think we should talk about what happened.”

She stopped and turned to face him. “Oh, no. You had time to talk. And I’m sure I’ll take you up on that offer soon. But for now,
right now
, I don’t want to talk to you.” And then she disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door.

Logan glanced around the room. It was by far the nicest suite they had stayed in so far, but something felt off. He understood why she was angry at him. Hell, he expected her to refuse to even speak to him. But something about this threw him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was more annoyed than angry, but she wasn’t talking to him. But if she was annoyed that he wasn’t telling her everything, why wouldn’t she listen to him now?

If she were anyone else, he could see anger getting in the way. But this was Julie. She put his image, or rather, his family’s image, above everything else. Now she was in trouble because he hadn’t told her everything and she refused to listen?

No.
Something was happening and he had no idea what.

He pulled out the computer Julie gave him and sat on the couch. Once it was powered up, he checked his email, but there was still nothing from Alecia. He was about to shut the lid, but at the last second he stopped. Instead, he typed Julie Anne into the search engine.

Apparently the two first names were incredibly common. So instead he typed in Julie Anne and Nathan Farrell.

A few sites came up, but the images at the top were what really caught his attention. He clicked the button to see more, and an entire page came up. There were pictures of her and Nathan at lunch or drinking coffee together. A few of the images were at sites questioning whether they were together. Another one was an interview with her about her business. How she’d started as an intern with a prestigious firm and after a falling out, she branched out on her own. It didn’t say what the falling out was, though. Just a “disagreement.” It was probably a testament to her skills that there weren’t any articles about what the scandal had been.

Luckily, all the pictures of her and Nathan seemed innocent enough. Even in the ones where she was smiling, she wasn’t smiling in that way. Nathan was older now, but even as a teen he’d had plenty of admirers following him around. He was the youngest, so he received the least attention from Walter. Logan, Alex, and Robert had been able to shield the youngest from the full brunt of the man’s corruptive attentions.

Everything the man touched had turned into some sort of acidic gold. It would make lots of cash and destroy anything around it. Considering that Nathan had needed Julie in the first place, he was willing to bet that Walter had eventually turned on him too.

Figured.

Logan ran a hand over his eyes. He’d missed so much. Ten years of his brothers’ lives. For Nathan, that was almost half of his life. There was an email sitting on his account right now. His family reaching out. Wanting to reconnect. Maybe he should let this Brandon Willis thing go.

No.
He’d at least see what Alecia sent him. Until then, Julie would probably start to feel better soon. Maybe there was something else going on with her, but she seemed determined to stay with him. And, no matter how annoyed she was, he knew on some level she liked him. Liked him a hell of a lot more than she wanted to, and that was one mark he had in his favor.

Tomorrow, things would be different. He’d tell her the whole truth and he’d let her in on what was really happening. And then she could decide to stay with him or run. He looked at the sofa where she’d said she was going to sleep.
What were the chances he could convince her to take the big bed in the bedroom?