Garrett
Chapter 39
“It’s his real signature,” Reddington announced, as he strode across the dirt and in the middle of my conversation with a few of my men. I winced inwardly, his voice sounding like a blade against stone. I threw my head to the side, silently dismissing my soldiers, as I kept my glare on him.
The sight of him put me on edge. One, because I didn’t trust the fucker; two, I didn’t like him; and, three, he was on my training grounds—in my space.
Working on this ‘Getting rid of Sophia’ plan was supposed to be just George and me. I’d no idea how this idiot suckered his way into it.
Reddington stood in front of me, waiting for some congratulations or a pat on the back—I didn’t know. I just wanted him off my field and away from me.
“We studied dozens of documents that your father signed, and they match perfectly,” he went on, as I walked away from him. I’d talk to George about this later.
He followed. “We need to come up with another plan, Garr.”
I stopped mid-step, the dumbass almost bumping into me. Turning around to face him, I scowled.
“It’s not ‘we;’ it’s me and George. Second, you don’t come out here, spilling out information in front of my men.”
Reddington sent me a sheepish grin. “Sorry.” I began to walk away again but he spoke again. “I want to help.”
I crossed my arms “Why is that exactly?”
He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “You don’t owe us shit. Actually, you should hate us, shouldn’t you, Red?” That only deepened his brows. “Let’s cut the bullshit. Your mother was exiled by the bitch we now call the Enduring Queen. Which, we both know is utter shit, but can’t do anything about. Cecilia sent your mother to poverty, abuse, and a life of hell. Then you show up—out of nowhere, I might add—wanting to help.”
Reddington raised a brow. “Your point?”
I took a step closer. We were just about the same height, him only a tad bit taller than me. “My point is, I think you’re playing us. Have been for a while. George is blind as hell to it; I, on the other hand, am not.”
Reddington narrowed his eyes. “The paranoia is starting to cook your brain. You wouldn’t know how to take help if it slapped you upside the head, Garr.”
I snapped. “Don’t call me Garr.”
A small smile appeared on his lips. “Fine, cousin.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “Keep it up.”
“You need all the help you can get,” he pointed out. “Loosen up on your pride. Ava is a friend. I wouldn’t surmise her happiness for the world.”
I stepped closer. “About that. Stay away from her.”
“It’s not like that,” Reddington countered, waving his hand in the air.
“Don’t like repeating myself, Red.”
“Tell her that.” He fixed his eyes on me, challenging me to be a bullheaded asshole to my fiancée and tell her who she could and couldn’t talk to. He knew I wouldn’t win.
“Go back home,” I retorted, lamely. With that, I didn’t stop walking, even though I heard him still mumbling something.
“Garr!”
Son of a bitch.
Rubbing my temples with two of my fingers, I turned to see George jogging over.
“Hey! Glad I caught you!” He stood next to the man I was trying get away from. “Got some news back.”
“I already heard.”
George looked over at Reddington. “You had the balls to tell him?”
Reddington shrugged. “I didn’t cause it.”
“Sure about that?”
“Stop it, Garr.” George scratched his head. “We need to figure out something else.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Use your kingly powers and make this go away.”
I was acting like a child, asking for something he had no power to give me, but I didn’t care. I needed to voice it. I needed him to hear me. Sophia needed to be gone from my life, so I could breathe again.
George shot daggers at me. “Asshole, I would have done that already if I could.” He shifted to his other leg. “There is something else.”
Geezus fuck.
I needed a drink.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized we needed to get out of here—me, Hara, Mama, and Ava. We needed to disappear.
“Sophia is already moving forward with the wedding plans.”
“I haven’t even seen her!”
“Do you need to?”
“Fuck no, I don’t need to. I won’t be there.”
“I can delay some of her plans,” Reddington quipped. “Buy us some more time.”
“Don’t bother,” I shot back.
George took a step toward me. “You need to go talk to her.”
“Can your kingly powers dismiss a murder charge, because I’ll kill her.”
“You need to play along,” Reddington replied.
I stilled. Did he not understand what the hell we were trying to do? I wasn’t going along with anything, let alone be left alone in a room with her.
I fixed him with a scowl. “And why the hell would I do that?”
“Because you’re going to marry her,” George advised flatly.
Confusion set in first, then anger. Then, I wanted to shake my brother and ask him if he’d been brainwashed.
“You want me to do what?” I clenched my teeth.
I wasn’t going to bow down to this shit. I wasn’t going to play along and give Sophia what she wanted; what she so patiently waited for.
Then it hit me.
Maybe she was behind this. She and her father. They killed my father, so they could make this happen. Though, I felt like I was the only one fighting now.
But to kill a king to marry a bastard?
Unless they were going to kill…
“Hear me out,” George began, holding up his hands in surrender. “This is going to take some convincing on Ava’s part, I’m afraid, but I can’t think of anything else to do.”
“What if the Chitwoods are behind our father’s death?”
That question got two pair of eyes looking at me like I had gone completely insane. One furrowed, the other wide-eyed.
“Your ego is that big?” George scolded.
“No offense,” Reddington added. “But you’re a—”
“I know what I am.” I looked at my brother. “What if you’re next?”
George shook his head at me. “Doubt it, but let me continue what I was saying.”
“I’m serious.”
He shrugged. “And then what? Make my bastard brother the king? C’mon, Garr, get a grip and let me continue.”
“I’m considering it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if we agree to the marriage, we could possibly, and quickly, get Sophia to divorce you. You could cut off her funds, keep her from her friends and in the castle. Make it a prison; she’d be crying to her father within weeks.”
“Still waiting to hear the good part.”
“You wouldn’t stop seeing Ava,” Reddington chorused. “That alone would make her furious.”
I stared at him. “So, you want me to publicize Ava as my mistress?”
George shook his head. “No, no. No one else would be aware of the plan.”
“Unless Sophia opened her big mouth,” I cut in.
George slapped me in the chest. “You’d need to threaten her, Garr. Use your inner asshole and make her life a living hell. I’m more than confident you can pull it off.”
“This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, George, and I’ve heard many.”
He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “It’s all I got. I’m stuck, just like you are. I can’t undo a dead king’s agreement. We’ve already checked out the witnesses; they came out clean. I need you to buy me more time.”
“We have a meeting with Lord Chitwood in a few moments,” Reddington announced.
I glanced at my brother. “You already made the meeting?”
“Like I said, we need to convince them that we submitted to their agreement. Then it’s our chance to turn the tables.”
∞∞∞
Sitting in the King’s study, now my brother’s, I felt tense. Like I was about to be ordered the death sentence over a crime I didn’t commit; that crime being Sophia’s obsessive plan to marry me. I was wound up so tight, I didn’t even argue when Reddington entered the room with us.
I had a bigger problem sitting in front of me right now.
“I’m honored that you made the time to see me, Your Majesty,” Lord Chitwood addressed, sipping tea with an extended pinky finger. He rested his forearm along his immense stomach, while Sophia sat, prim and proper, in the chair next to him.
She flattened her cream dress with her hands, sitting straight and looking like she was an innocent, abiding with her father’s wishes. Not the conjurer who stormed in my room, accusing me of sleeping with Ava, and that she wouldn’t stop until we were married.
“Not a problem,” George responded. “We have plenty to discuss.”
“That we do.” Chitwood gave his cup to Sophia. “We would like to have the wedding by the end of the year, if that would be suitable to Lord Cranfield.”
I opened my mouth to tell Chitwood exactly what I thought about that idea, but George spoke instead.
“I’ll have to check with the event planner, but I don’t see an issue with that.”
“Fantastic. My little angel is very excited for this match.” He grinned at Sophia, who sheepishly looked down.
Oh, fucking please.
“Angel, huh?” I retorted. “Do angels entered men’s bed chambers alone and uninvited?”
Chitwood looked at me for the first time since he entered the room. The man wasn’t an idiot; he knew I didn’t want to marry his whore of a daughter.
No one wanted to marry his whore of a daughter.
“I’m sorry?”
Dismissing his fake ignorance, I turned my attention to Sophia. “What will it take to buy you off? Money? A house? A new wardrobe? What do you want?”
“A husband,” she replied in a small voice that I didn’t recognize coming out of her. This act of hers was something I was going to break the shit out of. Just because her father and the most powerful man in the country were in the room, she wasn’t fooling anyone. This charade was going to stop.
I placed my glass of brandy down on the table next to me and stood. “Great, let’s go find you one.”
Reddington came up behind me, pushing down on my shoulder to sit. “Lord Cranfield is a little overwhelmed, with everything happening so quickly. His father’s death, the threat still at hand, and now a soon-to-be wife; it’s a lot to take in.”
Chitwood relaxed in his chair. “Of course.”
“Lady Chitwood,” my brother said, handing me back my glass. “Being the wife of the brother to the king comes with specific requirements and acts. We’d need you to follow strict protocol, and act with utter modesty.”
“I understand, Your Majesty.” She gave him a small smile. “I shall do whatever Lord Cranfield requires of his wife.”
I squeezed the arm of my chair as images of Ava entered my mind. I felt as though I was betraying her in the worst conceivable way by being in this room.
“Lord Chitwood, as you know, you will be releasing all your rights of your daughter into the hands of Lord Cranfield, and may not interfere in any way within their marriage. If there is infidelity within the marriage, a divorce may be issued. No provisions will be provided to Lady Chitwood if this takes place.”
Chitwood paused for a moment, thinking, before nodding.
“We’ll have the agreement made up for you to look over this week,” Reddington added.
Chitwood peered at me. “I have no problem signing anything you see fit, Your Majesty, as long as Lord Cranfield treats my daughter well.”
I leaned back deeper in my chair. “And what would that consist of, Judge?”
“No mistresses.”
I laughed.
Hard.
“I don’t think that is appropriate to ask,” George informed, steel in his voice.
Chitwood groaned, pushing himself up off his seat to lean closer. “It’s very appropriate to ask when there have been rumors that Cranfield is engaged to another at this moment. To Lady Barlow.”
Anger hit me, and my body went to react, but George plastered his hand to my forearm. “That is none of your concern,” George bit out, waving his hand dismissively.
“It is when my daughter will be the laughingstock of society.”
“Remember who you are talking to,” George growled. “Lady Barlow is a very close friend to the crown.”
Chitwood’s nose flared. “I mean no disrespect, Your Majesty. It is an honor for my daughter to marry your brother. But she has pride, like any other woman, and I will not have her upset with another woman.”
“You mean, just Lady Barlow,” I sneered. “Any other woman, Sophia would just chase away. But Ava doesn’t bow down to bullies.” My attention went to Sophia. “Didn’t she smack you, Lady Chitwood?”
Sophia’s face reddened, and I was sure it wasn’t from embarrassment.
“She did what?!” Chitwood bellowed. I covered my mouth with a hand, proud of my Avie, and knowing a smile wouldn’t help the situation.
“Any other requirements?” George piped up, bringing the conversation back to the matter at hand.
Chitwood looked over at his daughter, who remained silent, even though she looked like she was seething through her teeth. Her eyes bore daggers at me.
“None that I can think of, but if I do, I’ll send notice,” Chitwood replied.
“I’m not signing shit,” I declared. Both sets of Chitwood eyes landed on me, as I stood up to leave. “See you at dinner, George.”