Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 12

Twelve

Talia

A week later, Dare tracks me down. I’ve already not been feeling well all day. Hot, cold, cranky, tearful... I just need a day to myself. Maybe a little rest to get over this cold or flu thing. But instead, I have pulled several all-nighters at Hope House, filling in for last-minute call-outs of employees. On top of that, I have been working both my bookstore job and my side job as a hostess, trying desperately to pull in any extra money possible.

I didn’t have what I considered to be an easy life before this. But ever since I found out that Aunt Minnie owes money to her loan sharks, I have been living in my own personal hell.

I step out of the bookstore with my head down, wondering what I have to do to get myself, Minnie, and Hope House out of this terrible situation that we are in. I’m not really looking where I’m going, so when I barrel straight into a wall of black wool, I look up. An apology is already on my lips.

"I’m sorry…"

Dare looks down at me, smirking, his blue-green gaze seeming to penetrate right through me. My stomach flips over, like I might be a little bit nauseous. He reaches out and steadies me, his thick arms going around my waist. I look up at his handsome face, feeling a hum of attraction.

God, I almost forgot how handsome he is. But in the next second, he reminds me that he’s still a rich prick.

"There you are, darling girl. I’ve been looking for you." He flashes me a knowing smirk. I have to resist the urge to slap that expression off his face.

I jerk my chin up, looking at him defiantly. "Yeah, I’ve been avoiding you. It’s easy enough. I just have to stay clear of the Raven’s Head Club."

His lips twitch. "You’re confusing me with Burn. I don’t frequent the Raven’s Head Club very often. But nonetheless, I have been looking for you."

I struggle with him, but he only holds me closer. I look up into his face and wonder why he’s so obsessed with getting my story from me. Surely I can’t be the only one who has been caught up with his brother.

For some reason, though, I can’t or won’t bring that up with him. I think there is some little part of me that loves that this handsome billionaire is all but stalking me.

Dare brings his hand up to my face and brushes away some of my hair from my face with his fingers. It’s an unusually touching gesture. But it’s followed by words that soon ruin it.

"You can’t possibly still be mad, can you?"

I snap out of my reverie and push his hand away, glaring at him. "Of course I am mad. This is my freaking life, not a game. I’m going to lose the bookstore. I’m going to lose the place where I live. And also, more than that, I might lose Hope House. I know that you’re richer than God and have rich people problems. But I am a normal person with normal things to worry about. Real things, not silly Morgan family politics."

Dare looks away, pressing his lips into a tight white line. For a second, I watch him, my heart beginning to pound. What is he thinking?

I can't even begin to guess.

He looks back at me, his remarkable eyes spearing me. "What if I offered you ten thousand for a taped confession?"

I blink. "Ten thousand? Just like that? No other strings attached?"

Dare must have a soft underbelly if he is willing to pay me more just because I complained and cried poverty.

Ten grand. That gets my attention. Ten grand is serious money.

He shrugs. "I think we should talk about it more somewhere that isn’t icy cold."

Placing my hands on his chest, I separate myself from his body. He lets me go, and I gesture back down the street toward the bookstore. "We can head back to the bookstore. It’s closed right now, but it’s warm, and there is an office where we can talk."

Some emotion lights his eyes—something dark and needy. He straightens his lapels on his heavy overcoat and nods to me. "Lead the way."

I turn and pull my keys from my pocket, allowing us to enter the bookstore. After he walks in, I lock the door behind him and head straight to the back, bypassing all the books. I can see him looking around, taking in the jumble that is our store. Part of me is embarrassed that I didn't impose more order on everything.

Aunt Minnie has her way of doing things, though.

I walk down a small hallway and open the last door on the right, flipping on the lights in a small, windowless office. My office is possibly the opposite of the bookstore itself. Here, I have instituted precise order over the shelves of books. On the wall, there is a large family tree with research notes in my scrawled handwriting, and below it, an array of photocopied journals and printed headshot style photos. Along the wall, in neat cardboard cartons that are indexed and full of sticky notes, there is more research about my family in particular.

I move behind a small desk, offering him the chair opposite. He doesn’t take it. Instead, he walks to the wall and examines my family tree, his finger tracing the roots. "Is this your family?"

I inhale a deep breath. "Yes," I say. For some reason, my voice sounds pinched. "My family was one of the founding families of this town."

Dare glances back at me, a little surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

He roughly rips a piece of paper from the wall, ignoring the thumbtack that is holding it in place and shredding the paper. He brings it closer to his face and I clear my throat, getting up and pulling the paper from his fingers. I gave him a hard stare and replaced the thumbtack, then returned to my desk.

"If you don’t mind. I would like to get this over with." I wave my hand at the chair again.

He raises his hands as if I am the one overreacting. But he eventually makes his way over to the chair and sits down.

"Whose office is this?" he asks.

"It’s mine. Obviously." I gesture at the wall.

"It’s very… Neatly kept."

"You should see my bedroom. Tidy and neat as a pin."

He smirks, making my fingers itch to slap his smug expression off his face. "Is that an invitation?"

I heave a disgusted sigh and shake my head. "You’re definitely not coming anywhere near my bedroom, not if I have any say over the matter."

His eyes twinkle for a moment with dark amusement. "We’ll see about that."

I huff at his words. "That’s a ridiculous thing to say." I adjust my skirt and cross my legs, feeling prim. "Now, about the ten thousand dollars."

He leans forward in his seat, steepling his fingers and looking contemplative. "Yes. I’m thinking that I could pay you five thousand like we talked about to get the story on tape. Then for the other five thousand, I would pay you to actually come with me and confront my brother."

I pale, my heart rate rising suddenly. "What? No. I can’t do that."

"Really? Because you are the one who said that you are so hard up for money."

"That’s not what I meant," I say, my expression turning bitter.

Dare sits back in his chair, staring at me like he can see right through to my very soul. A long moment elapses. Finally, he flicks his hand out in a forget about it gesture.

"Okay. Fine. Make it twenty thousand total. Five thousand for the videotape and fifteen thousand for the bearing witness bit."

At the prospect of twenty thousand, I find myself gripping the side of my desk. "Twenty thousand?" I echo.

"That’s what I said. Take it or leave it."

"I… I can’t turn that money down. That could save my house. Save this store. Save Hope House from closing.”

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, so I hear. I think I am making a very generous offer."

I lick my lips, my nerves getting the best of me. I stare at him, pinning him in place with my eyes. He doesn’t squirm or fidget. He just stares right back at me, unmoved.

"You know, you’re a heartless bastard."

"And you are a conniving swindler who is only interested in seeing how much money you can get out of me. We both have our flaws, don’t we?"

My jaw drops. "I am not a swindler. And I am not conniving either."

"Agree to disagree," he says firmly. He folds his arms and glares at me.

Before I can even think about the repercussions, words come tumbling out of my mouth. "I think I hate you," I say, a note of confusion evident in my tone.

He doesn’t so much as skip a beat. "Don’t be fooled, Talia. I feel the fucking same. I just want to get this shit recorded so that I never have to interact with you again."

Staring at my feet, I run my hands along my skirt. "Well, this cannot be over fast enough for me."

He waves me down. "Sit, then. We can do the first bit right now."

Dare pulls out a cell phone, presses a few buttons, and points it at me. I watch him as he does it, wondering how to go about telling him that I don’t trust him to just pay me afterward.

Before I can get a word out, he holds up his free hand. "Relax. I will wire the money as soon as possible when I have this video. Okay?"

Teeth clenched, I nod. "Fine."

I look into the camera, my face feeling hot. He stares at me, making a go on gesture behind the camera. I clear my throat and straighten my back, my crossed legs clenching.

“I met Burn at the Raven's Head Club. We talked and drank together. Then we went out to his car, drove to a spot a little outside town, and had sex.” I glance at Dare, feeling like I’m at a loss. "Is that good enough?"

"No." Dare looks at his phone, frowning. "Go through it again, with more detail. Especially about you two having sex."

I suck in a deep breath, reminding myself that this moment of embarrassment would not last forever. And I will get five thousand dollars out of a few shameful moments.

"Okay." I look square at the camera, trying not to fidget. "I met Burn at the Raven’s Head Club. We talked. He seemed nice enough. We were both drinking. Burn poured me drinks and made sure that I was tipsy, if not drunk. I ended up on his lap. Burn asked me to take a walk with him outside. I did, because I was all flushed, so outside seemed like a refreshingly cool place to go. We ended up walking to his car. He has a fancy car, a Maserati that’s bright red. I know because I asked."

I take in another breath and exhale it in a burst of air. "We started kissing. I let myself get carried away. He suggested we get into the car, and then, once inside, we started driving, he drove just a bit out of town to some property he said belonged to his family… we hooked up. It wasn’t non consensual or anything. I was tipsy and laughing the whole time. He…" I press a hand to my face, feeling how hot my cheek is. "When we were having sex, he was all raw sex. There was no calling me honey and sweetie. He… he was really complimentary of my breasts. He called them amazing fucking tits."

He looks at me, a hint of fire in his eyes. “My brother wasn’t wrong about that. You do have great tits.”

I go from red to purple.

“You can see them in your dreams,” I say, my tone clipped. "Is that enough for your recording?"

His expression is pinched, closed off and almost angry. I prompt him again. "Is it?"

"How did you get home?" he asks.

"Oh. Well, Burn drove me. It was just a few miles away, on the way to where he was headed. I didn’t know where that was. I didn’t ask. I didn’t even know his last name."

Dare looks at me, irritation clear in his expression. "And did he make you cum?"

I drop my gaze, my cheeks beet red. "I... don’t think so. Maybe I don’t know."

"How could you not know?" Dare fires back.

"Well, it’s not like I do this regularly!" I look up, my expression grim. "I am not usually the kind of girl that goes out, gets drunk, and has a one-night stand with a rich guy in his fancy car."

Dare arches his brow, a little surprised. "Are you saying you were a virgin?"

I clench my teeth again. Part of me wants to lie and tell him that I wasn’t. But the larger part of me, the part that values integrity and honesty, won’t let me.

"Yes," I hiss. "Okay? It was my first time."

Dare gives a heartless laugh and turns the camera off, putting his phone away. "Your first time was in a car with a guy you didn’t know. And you didn’t even cum? That’s incredible."

It wasn’t in the car, it was more like on it , but I keep that to myself. I give him my most profound look of disgust and cross my arms. "Are we done?"

"I don’t know. You have anything more to tell me?"

I stare at him, at his perfectly coiffed hair, at his carved cheekbones, at his aristocratic nose, and at his hooded eyes. He is a rich, domineering asshole, and he makes me feel like I am something that he found on the bottom of his shoe. The lowest sort of person. The feeling of being judged and found unworthy swirls around me, misting over my eyes. I blurt out the words before I can hold them back.

"I hate you. I really do."

Dare laughs once more, his voice callous and cold. "Well, that makes two of us. Because I hate you, too. And as soon as I can, I’ll be done with you. Give me your phone."

He holds out his hand, gesturing with a give it to me motion. I glare at him and hand my phone over. He takes one look at my flip phone and can’t contain his amusement. He gives a chortle of surprise, and then he flips it open, dialing a number.

"I didn’t even realize they made these anymore." He hits the call button and waits, looking at me.

"You’re despicable. A phone is a phone."

His own phone buzzes, and he flips my phone closed, spinning it and handing it back to me.

"I’ll be in touch soon. Then we can wrap this business up quickly and get out of each other’s hair. I, for one, hope I never see you again."

"You are preaching to the choir," I hiss at him.

With that, he takes off, leaving me seething mad and deeply ashamed of my actions.