Page 36 of Wreckin' Amethyst

“Where should I start digging?” I take the olive from my cocktail glass, tugging it free from the stick with my teeth. Pushing his black hair back, Sebby interlinks his fingers on the bar.

“You’re not thinking outside the box enough. Myles has a central office in the city, he’s supposed to visit every Friday to sign forms and save face. Then there’s his dad’s mansion; we all store paperwork relating to our businesses there. It gives his dad peace of mind, since he’s the main investor for all of our ventures, to have open access to our files.”

“What’s your business of choice? I never see you working.” I tilt my head to the side. Violet hair pools around my forearm, the silk cami on my body shifting beneath the large ceiling fans.

“I own a photography company. Everything is handled through my employees, and the photographers are mostly freelancers anyway. I only need to judge new applicants and look over their work once in a while. My name alone opens most doors for them so it’s rare anyone really needs me,” Sebby shrugs and sighs.

“Oh, for the love of pity,” I raise my hand for the bartender once more. He slinks over with an easy smile, bottle of tequila in hand and eyes sternly on me. “Hi, can we get a refill and your phone number for my friend here? He’s hopelessly in love with another and firmly in the closet, but a great listener and a monster in the sack. Trust me, I’ve seen it.” The bartender raises his brows, finally looking at Sebby. It’s about time; I’ve never known someone so insistent on ignoring the hottest guy in the room.

“I’m about to go on my break,” the bartender hitches his shoulder suggestively.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Sebby whisper-shouts and tugs my arm from the bar, his brows fused together. “I don’t know what’s happening with Myles and I, I can’t just…fornicate with someone else.” My lids lower half-mast.Fornicate? Really?

“Get off your pity pony and on to this hardworking hottie. Nothing is going to happen between you and Myles until you’re ready to come out and come clean about how you feel. Also, I can’t scheme when you’re all ‘it’s rare anyone really needs me,” I mock his voice. “I need you, right here and now. So go, release those negative thoughts. I’ll be elbow-deep in sheer genius by the time you return.”

Shoving Sebby from his stool, I wonder how long I’ll have to coordinate his sex life as I wave him goodbye. Then I’m back to plotting alone, writing possible ideas on the back of a coaster. I wonder if Myles would recognize me without these violet contacts and if I went brunette. I’d have to conceal my body beneath a nun’s outfit, but it’s absolutely doable.

My chest begins to ache, conflict warring within. I’d stupidly allowed myself to feel safe. To trust. Past experience has taught me better than to believe the lies so easily spoken. The smiles are too easily given. Happiness is an illusion, as deceptive as the make-up on my face.

Leaning my chin on my hand, I twist to look at the street outside. It’s barely midday, yet there’s a fair amount of traffic. A deep red Dodge Viper with a black strip down the middle pulls up alongside a café over the road, drawing my full attention. Not because it’s glorious – which it is – but from the driver. Jaw cut from granite, tightly pressed lips, pushed-back chestnut brown hair and the cold green eyes I know glare out from beneath perfect eyebrows. Carter.

Exiting the car, I track his movements to the blonde waiting at an outside table. I hadn’t seen her before, probably because she’s donned a huge floppy hat and sunglasses, but there she is.Felicia Steele. Holding out his arms, Carter envelopes Felicia in a firm hug and my jaw drops open. Well, this is a revelation.

Jumping from my stool, I grab a hoodie from the back of a nearby chair without the owner realizing. It’s wrenched onto my body, my hair tucked into the hood, by the time I’ve avoided the oncoming vehicles and lowered beside the Dodge Viper’s driver door. Luckily, Carter didn’t feel the need to raise his windows so I can listen to their conversation straight through the middle.

“Does he know?” Felicia asks. I brave a look to see they are still holding hands.

“I’m not sure,” Carter responds. “He hasn’t said much of anything since returning last night.” Felicia draws him to the table she occupied, and I scoot around the trunk to listen in. Removing her huge hat, a fresh set of highlights mixes into the grey peppering her hairline.

“I hope you’re right about this. You know what happened last time,” she sighs, sliding Carter a folder of paper. He briefly glances at it, before tucking it into his side jacket pocket. I swear this asshole sleeps in a suit.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“And the girl?” she asks tentatively. My ears prick up further.

“I’m taking care of it. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll back off before my hand is forced.” My brows furrow, my mind racing to put together a puzzle I don’t have all the pieces to yet.

Felicia told Myles where to find Reynell’s hideout, and probably gave Carter the heads up. The archer couldn’t have been a coincidence; they knew we’d be there and rushed to silence Reynell. Why…I’m not sure yet. But as Sebby pointed out – no shots were fired until we left the house, namely at me. Myles was never in danger because his best friend and self-proclaimed bodyguard orchestrated the whole thing.

“I need to get back to Myles before he does something stupid,” Carter sighs heavily and pushes to stand. Ducking back from view and banging my head on the sport’s car, I grimace at the license plate and realize it’s new. Probably fresh out the dealership down the road.

Scrambling for a way to stall him, I spot a shard of broken glass on the roadside. The rest of the beer bottle trails towards a bar a few buildings down. I grab it, uncaring of my own hand as I make quick work of slashing Carter’s wheels. His unnaturally long hug goodbye with Felicia gives plenty of time to create mischief and be back in my bar stool before Sebby appears, hair ruffled and cheeks flushed.

“That was quick,” I raise my cocktail glass and wink. Sebby freezes.

“Do I want to know where you got that hoodie or why there’s blood dripping from your hand?” He looks at me with a ‘can’t-take-you-anywhere’ frown. Spotting the red smear against the cocktail glass, my retort is interrupted by a screech of metal on pavement and Carter bellowing out of the window. “Is that…Carter?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Be a doll and call the limo; you can tell me all about your bartender romp on the way back to the manor,” I smirk, hiding all real emotion underneath. Like what the fuck I’m going to do about the state of my life, how Myles has managed to carve an Adonis-shaped hole into it, and what it’ll take for him to bare his secrets.

Chapter 25

Highheelsclickonthe marble floor beyond my bedroom. I’ve been waiting all morning for that sound. Straightening the white shirt buttoned to my breasts, a black bra underneath, I shoot out into the hallway and intercept the Elite at the top of the stairs, Myles’ breakfast tray in hand. He refused to leave his room all of last night, and although I’m not against breaking the door down, this seemed classier. I didn’t expect, however, the Elite to be Charley.

“Ami? What are you doing up so early, and…dressed like that?” Her dark eyes follow the length of my silhouette. It’s ironic since we’re wearing the same outfit. Fitted black pants, dangerously thin stilettos. I opted for a French braid down the length of my back, as opposed to her high ponytail.

“What does it look like? I’m going to work.” Reaching out for the tray, she holds it firm. “Let me handle this one. Myles needs a kick up the ass this morning and I’ve been practicing my roundhouse in heels.”

“Please Ami, you said you’d support me in becoming an Elite. I’m so close to being chosen - all the other girls have recommended me the highest. Please don’t ruin this for me.” My mouth drops open before I can catch it. In all these years, I’ve protected Charley, kept her safe from her stepfather, took care of her needs, and she’s obediently followed me wherever I went. The decision to become an Elite is the first time she’s ever asked me for anything, yet I don’t release the metal platter between us. I can’t.

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