Blurred Truth (The Blurred Series Book 2) (9 page)

“I’ve changed my mind. I really want you to kiss me.”

This girl is killing me.

“Maybe tomorrow, if you still want me to.” I give a half-promise.

I hope she still wants me to.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Go to sleep, Natalie.”

And before long, her even breathing tells me she’s asleep, and my heart, along with every other muscle in my body, can finally relax.

“Why does she have the panic attacks?” I ask Nate over our morning coffee, Natalie still sound asleep where I left her.

“No one really knows. You know the issues started around eleven, or so. No one’s discovered the trigger, though. I don't even think she knows why,” he explains.

“It's because of me, isn't it? Because I was...mean to her when we were kids.” Maybe it's egotistical of me to assume, but I was Natty’s only real issue back then, that I can think of. I can't help but feel like I caused her social awkwardness at a young age, rendering her unable to fit in with kids at school, and any other problem she's faced since.

All the possibilities spun around and around in my head for most of last night, as I held her in my arms. This is the most logical explanation I could think of.

“I can't rule out that possibility,” Nate says, giving me a pointed look over his coffee cup.

“Well, for what it's worth, I'm really damn sorry,” I say contritely.

“You were a kid. You had issues to deal with of your own. No one blames you. From what I've seen, you've been good to her since she got here, and I'm grateful for that. I don't know what really happened yesterday, but if it was something you did, I trust you to make it right,” he says, clasping my shoulder as he passes, making his way out of the apartment.

I'm gonna make it right. I have to.

* * *

Me: Sorry I couldn’t stay and find out if you still wanted me to kiss you this morning. If I could have, I would have ;) I hope you’re feeling better this morning, sweetheart. Same time tonight?

Natalie: That’s alright. I think I’ll be ok tonight. Thank you, though :)

“Mr. Landon. Thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice,” Grayson Knight, CEO of Knight Trading Inc., greets me as he enters the boardroom, before giving me a firm handshake. Effectively preventing me from analyzing, and responding to, Natty’s last text.

“No problem, Mr. Knight. My schedule is very flexible,” I respond as we both take our seats at the long, sleek, dark wood table.

Switching my phone to silent, I shove it into the inside pocket of my tailored suit jacket, and give the CEO my full attention.

I’ve heard many stories about Grayson Knight, but can’t be certain which are true and which are embellished for dramatic effect. Either way, I don’t really want to test what it’s like on his bad side.

This new contract, about which we’re meeting this morning, has the potential to make me a very rich man. Not that I care much about becoming very rich. I have a comfortable lifestyle, already. But I’m ambitious, and even more so when I think of the possible future I may have with a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl back in my apartment.

This contract will allow me to give her the life she deserves, if she’ll let me, and that alone drives me to ensure I nail this first meeting.

“Please, call me Grayson. May I call you Ryan?”

“Of course, Mr. Knigh - I mean, Grayson.” I smile whilst inwardly cringing at my first slip-up, so early into the discussion.

“So, you come very highly recommended, Ryan. I’m told you’re a talented designer, and well-versed in media and web technologies.”

“That’s correct. My web design style may not be to everyone’s taste, but if you’ve already seen some of my work, I trust that won’t be an issue here. Your online presence has had a very...muted appearance in the last few years. I hope you don’t mind me saying that?” I ask with some trepidation. The last thing I want to do is offend the guy with my opening.

“Not at all, Ryan,” he says with a wave of his hand, dismissing my concern. “I’ve gone over the proposal you sent to us last month, and I like what I’ve seen so far. I have complete confidence that you’re the guy we need to...shake things up a bit, as far as our online presence is concerned.”

“Well, that’s great news. And I just want to make it clear that you can leave the whole project up to me, or have as much input as you see fit. I’m happy to work with you or someone from your marketing team, if that’s more appropriate,” I explain.

I prefer working alone, but I’m going to do whatever it takes to get this contract.

“I’ll put you in touch with Jessica. She’s my head of marketing, and can answer any questions you may have along the way. But, frankly, Ryan, if she could do what you’ve proposed, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation,” he states with a hint of aggravation in his tone, that makes me feel a little bad for Jessica.

Oh, well. Her apparent incompetence is my potential gain.

“Right. I understand.”

“Great. I’d like to see a first draft of the website design within the next month.” Grayson sees my eyes widen slightly with that statement, so continues, “We aren’t on a tight deadline for the re-design. I’m willing to pay you handsomely for that and let you go at your own pace, but it’s your other talents where my interests really lie,” he clarifies.

Hacking
. He’s talking about the hacking I’ve done in the past for a very select number of clients, who promised me their utmost discretion. Meaning they don’t tell another living soul that I’ve done that for them.

Fucking liabilities. All of them.

I sit back in my chair, feeling the shift of power in my favor. He needs me more than I need him, it would seem.

“I’m listening,” I say, folding my arms.

“Off the record?” he asks, boring into my eyes with his own.

“I don’t keep records, Grayson,” I state flatly.

“Good. I’m aware you don’t offer your services for the purposes of hurting anyone. Ruining businesses. Lives. I know that’s not you and I wouldn’t ask you to do anything of the sort. You have my word on that. What I need is quite simple, really. I buy struggling companies, build them up and sell them on. What I don’t want to do is buy struggling companies just to dismantle them for parts and put the workforce out of jobs.”

“Trim some fat off the story, Grayson...if you don’t mind?” I ask impatiently. I don’t need this guy’s life story to know whether or not I’ll agree to do what he’s asking.

“Very well. When I find a company that I think could be fit for purchase, I need you to access their back-office system and find out if the figures they’re giving me are accurate, or if they’re trying to pull the wool over my eyes to get me to buy.”

“You’re aware this is illegal?” I check.

“I am. Which is why I’ll pay you accordingly, but beyond that, you need
anything
- all you have to do is ask. I’m not a criminal, Ryan, but I have a lot of friends. Very helpful friends.”

Immediately, my mind goes to Natalie and Nate’s parents and how their lives were taken from them. I could need assistance with that situation, one day. I owe it to the only people I call family, to find out what really happened. To find out the truth and then get justice for the ones I love.

“Anything?” I ask.

“Anything,” Grayson confirms.

“Fine. But my services are not to be discussed with
anyone
else. It stops with you, and the task we just discussed is all I will do for you outside the law. Are we clear?”

“Crystal. You have my word, and I am a man of my word, Ryan. I assure you of that.”

“Okay, then. Will that be all?” I query, as I stand from the high back leather chair, straightening my jacket.

“It will. Thank you, again, Ryan. I’ll be in touch,” he says, standing and giving my hand another firm shake.

With a curt nod, we part ways, and I feel a rigorous gym session coming on, to dispel the tension now holding my muscles captive.

* * *

Relieved to be free of that stifling suit, and having expelled the nervous energy that was pumping through my veins like hot lava, I’m feeling lighter as I exit my truck outside the apartment.

I’m about to head up to see if Nate or Natalie are home, when something catches my eye outside Calli’s Café.

Natalie.

Natalie, sitting with a guy.

Natalie, sitting with a guy who’s smiling wide and making her laugh.

What-the-actual-fuck?

Instantly, the lava is pumping through my body, hotter than ever, and my vision turns red.

I don’t actually have a right to be angry. I know this, but it does nothing to cool my temper.

Without thinking, I head over to where she’s seated with this douchebag.

“Natalie, who’s this?” I ask through clenched teeth, never taking my eyes off of the preppy douchebag.

Don’t lose your shit. Don’t lose your shit.

“Elliott Cleveland,” Preppy Douche introduces himself, holding out his hand for me to shake.

Just leave before you do something stupid.

“I just realized I don’t care,” I state flatly, then turning to address Natalie, I say, “I’ll see you at home, Natalie.”

And without further preamble, I’m rushing up to the apartment to take a cold shower that I hope cools my blood from boiling point.

I think that went well.

“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier,” I say remorsefully from my place on the couch, when Natty enters the apartment and begins heading for her bedroom.

I’ve had a lot of time to think...and drink beer, since this afternoon’s events. Now I’m not angry, I just feel like a total asshole. Once again, I'm preventing her from making friends.

“
Shit
, Ryan! You scared the crap out of me!” she exclaims in surprise, turning from the archway she was about to walk through. “A little early for beer, don’t you think?” she asks, motioning to the beer in my hand.

“Not really,” I deadpan, considering it’s now evening. What she doesn’t know is that I have been drinking beer since it
was
too early for it.

“So, you said you were sorry?” she urges.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Why did you act that way?”

“Because I was jealous.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Jealous of the guy you were having a cozy little conversation with, who was obviously eye-fucking you the whole time, not eight hours after
I
left your bed,” I explain, then instantly regret it.

“You’re making me sound like a total slut, Ryan. Why are you being like this?” Her question causes me to avert my eyes from hers.

“I don’t mean to. That’s not what I meant. I just mean...I was in your bed and I don’t want anyone else to be there.”
Ever.

“No one else is getting in my bed, Ryan,” she promises.

“But they might...at some point. You’re going out on a date with him tonight, aren’t you?”

“How did you-”

“Unlucky guess,” I say, cutting her off before she can finish asking how I know.

“No one else is getting in my bed Ryan. Not Elliott, not anyone,” she reiterates.

And because I’m a little drunk and a lot jealous of her date with Preppy Douche, I say, “Not yet.”

And with a disbelieving last look, she continues her journey to the bedroom, where she’s going to prepare for her date that isn’t with me.

Awesome.

* * *

Heading into O’Grady’s Bar, having decided I need something stronger than beer, it occurs to me that this is the place where I met Tina.

I still haven’t dealt with that bitch. I really should send her a scathing text message or something, but I just can’t muster up the energy to do so.

“What’ll it be, handsome?” Cath, the forty-something joint-owner of the bar asks.

“Hey, Cath. Scotch. No ice,” I say as I take a seat on one of the empty bar stools.

“Ouch. Why so glum?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Does it look like I’m busy right now, sweetheart?” she says, motioning to the vacant stools beside me.

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

“Well, sounds like you need to tell this girl how much you care about her. No more bullshit, Ry,” Cath says when I reach the end of my woeful story, culminating in me being sat in a bar, alone, spilling my guts to a bartender.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to overwhelm her. She’s been through a lot,” I explain.

“Who’s been through a lot?” a shrill voice says from behind me, before I feel a hand brush over my shoulder.

Jesus Christ, not now.

“Tina, I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit,” I say, taking another sip of my drink, which is really starting to go to my head.

Well, that’ll happen when you drink one after the other for hours, genius.

“
My
bullshit? I’m the wronged party here, Ryan.”

“Look, Tina,” I say turning to face her, but not leaving my perch at the bar. “I’m sorry I cut things off without explanation. I was wrong for doing that, okay? But I never made you any promises and that shit you pulled in the park? I’ll never forgive you for that, so go find some other guy to fuck with and leave me be.”

“Well, fuck you Ryan Landon. I hope you catch a venereal disease and your dick drops off!” she almost shouts through a tearful voice, before striding off to the other side of the bar where her friends are seated.

“Wow. Well, that was entertaining,” Cath says, as she wipes down the bar.

“I think I’m gonna hit the road, Cath. Thanks for listening,” I say, placing enough bills on the bar to cover my drinks and a generous tip.

“By
‘hit the road’
, I hope you don’t mean in a motorized vehicle?” she asks, but I know what she’s really saying -
“You better not be driving after that skinful.”

“You know me better than that. I walked,” I say with a smile that I’m sure doesn’t reach my eyes.

“Good boy. Keep your chin-up, honey.”

“I will. Thanks, Cath.”

When I begin the twenty minute walk back to the apartment, the fresh, night air seems to amplify the effects of the alcohol, and I feel a little off-balance.

I stand against the wall of a building for a few minutes, just taking deep breaths and hoping the action will bring back all of my senses, but it doesn’t seem to help.

Testing my walking skills, I seem to be able to maintain a, somewhat, straight line, so decide it will be best if I get back to the apartment as quickly as possible to sleep it off.

By the time I reach the apartment - having mulled over every part of my conversation with Cath, enhanced by the alcohol running through my system - I decide I need to talk to Natty...like,
now
.

There’s a small voice in the back of my mind, telling me to just go to bed and talk to her tomorrow, with a clear head, but I ignore it.

When I get to her room, I see the door is open and the room is empty. At that same time, I hear the tap running in the bathroom and determine it must be her getting ready for bed.

Hopefully alone.

I make my way over to her bed and take a much-needed seat, before I fall on my ass.

I am shitfaced.

This is a really bad idea.

“What are you doing here, Ryan?” Natalie asks cautiously.

Too late to turn back now, drunkard.

“I j-just needed to see you,” I confess, slower than expected.

“You mean you needed to check that my bed was empty.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Tha-at miiight be part oof it. Don’t haate me. ‘Kay?” I slur.

This is humiliating. I can’t even string a sentence together. But, apparently, I have no trouble doing it inside my own head!

“Are you drunk?”

“Maaaybe.” I sheepishly give a half-grin, hoping it will prevent her from thinking I’m a belligerent alcoholic.

“Why did you drink so much?” she asks - half concerned, half irritated.

“I hooped it’d would heelp me foorrrget you were on a date with a-another guyyy.”

Oh, hi, Total Honesty. You weren't invited to this party, you gatecrasher.

Natty moves to sit next to me and asks, “Did it work?”

“No.” I look at her then, and her pretty, makeup-free face soothes my soul and makes my heart hurt at the same time.

“I’m going to get you water. Stay here and don’t throw-up on my sheets.”

I didn’t feel like I was going to throw-up, but now she’s said it, I think it could be in the cards for me.

God, please, no.

Deciding that it would really be best to go to bed, but not knowing how I’d make it to my own room, I decide to start removing my clothing to lay down right where I am. Wherever that is.

Once I get my shoes off and remove my shirt, I unbutton my jeans, but my head is swimming and the room is starting to spin. So I forget the rest of my clothes and lay down on the soft mattress, just before everything goes black.

* * *

When I wake up, it’s still dark outside and there’s no light...wherever I am. I see the clock on the nightstand reads 3:02am, and I reach for the bedside lamp, turning it on.

As my eyes focus, my head pounds, and I come to the realization that I’m in Natalie’s room.

Where is she?

I look over my shoulder to the other side of the bed, but she’s not there.

Where is she?

My mouth feels like someone stuffed it with cotton balls, then farted in it.

I notice a glass of water and a couple of pills on the nightstand. Concluding that Nat must have left them for me at some point, I swallow the pills and down the water like I’m dying of thirst.

As I continue to gather my bearings, my memory slowly begins to kick into gear, revealing the humiliation that was last night.

Ugh.

Why? Why did I get drunk and proceed to show her how drunk I was?

Lying back down, I turn the bedside lamp off and close my eyes, but sleep doesn’t come. I can smell her shampoo on the pillow and I just...miss her. It feels wrong being in here without her.

Where is she?

My memory isn’t exactly clear, but it’s told me enough to know she was here at midnight, and getting ready for bed, so I know she didn’t stay out with Preppy Douche.

Admitting defeat, I get up and head to the living room, presuming she may have slept on the couch. When I see she isn’t there, a feeling of hope swells inside me. Did she go to my room? If she did, that says a lot without actually saying anything.

I go to my bedroom door, opening it as quietly as possible, and the moonlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains reveals that she is, in fact, curled up and sound asleep in
my
bed.

As emotional as it makes me, it also makes me really fucking horny. I haven’t had any in a long while, but the only one I want, is now in my bed.

Willing my dick to stay dormant, so that I can do what I want to do, I make my way, as quietly as possible, over to the bed.

I love the way she sleeps; always in a way that makes it easy to climb in behind her and pull her to me.

So I do just that, gently bringing her back to my chest and wrapping my arm around her waist.

Her breathing tells me I haven’t disturbed her, so I lay my head on the pillow, fighting the urge to kiss her, and fall asleep within a matter of minutes.