31

Check Mate

Angel slammed down the bowl she’d been ladling soup into, spinning to face Drew. Soup slopped over the side, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“She’s what?” Her voice shook.

He shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t have the room.”

Angel’s face twitched at that, and she scowled openly at him. “And now you’ll have even more, because I’m not going.”

“You can’t stay here by yourself.”

Her scowl deepened. “What, because I’m twelve? I’ve been looking after myself—”

He moved around the side of the kitchen island, catching her arm just above the elbow. “Because I said so.”

Her eyes flickered, darting between his. “I thought it was just going to be us.” She held up her hand, stabbing a finger at the ring that gleamed so prettily on her finger. “You know, the newly engaged couple?”

“I’ll make sure we spend some time together.” He smiled softly at her. “Just you and me.”

“And she’s okay with that?” There was tension in the girl’s face, but it was fading.

God, was she so naive that putting a ring on her finger had evaporated every reservation she’d had about him? If anything, it should have rung alarm bells all through her pretty little head until she couldn’t go to sleep for the ruckus.

“Sure, why wouldn’t she?”

“Last I checked, you were still trying to bang her.”

“I’m making up for the shit I put her through.” He squeezed her arm. “You really think I’d do that to you? Try and screw someone else while my fiancé was in the house? Didn’t you hear what I said today?”

She tugged her arm, trying to get it free. “That wasn’t just for show?”

He laughed. “You think I’d marry you just for show?”

Angel shrugged. “Yeah, actually. Like, to get back at your brother, or something.”

“Get back at him?” He laughed again, harder. “Were you paying any attention? At all? Once? The past is in the past, Angel.”

“Then why are you doing this?” she asked, leaning into him until he could feel her body heat. “Why are you putting Bryce in your trust?”

He flinched at the question. “It’s what responsible people do. If something happens to me—”

“I’ll tell your boss it wasn’t you,” she cut in, her eyes darting between his. “I’ll tell him everything. You’ll get your job back, Bryce’ll get fired.”

“Too little, too late.” He shrugged. “He wants everything I have? Let him have it.”

Angel’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

“I’m done fighting, Angel.” He sighed heavily. “I’m done losing to him all the time. I’m just…” He dropped his eyes. “I’m done.”

“So you’re rolling over?”

“Trent will never hire me back, even if you clear this up.” He ran his hands up her arms, gripping the sides of her neck. “Something you don’t seem to understand, sweetheart.” His voice dropped low, but the urgency — the fury in it — multiplied. He dipped his head so he could stare her straight in the eyes. “My reputation has been destroyed. I won’t be able to get a job in anything resembling finance ever again. Best I can hope for is some kind of freelancing gig where I get to put my years and years of experience to some semblance of good use. Do you get that? Can you understand what I’m saying?”

“Fuck you, you condescending piece of shit,” she spat, ripping herself free.

She lifted her hand, already tugging the engagement ring from her finger. He grabbed her, crushing her fingers together hard enough that she yelled out in pain.

“Did you think there wouldn’t be repercussions? Huh? Did you think you could fuck my brother, get me fired, ruin my fucking life—” his voice rose to a shout “—and you wouldn’t have to pay the fucking piper?”

“Let go!” She yelled as she yanked her hand free.

“Life isn’t all peaches and cream, Angel.” He grabbed the back of her head, shaking her. “Not this life. Not this one.”

“I didn’t know he’d do that!”

Tears shimmered on her lashes, but she sniffed hard and squeezed them from her eyes with a hard blink. “I didn’t know, okay?” she whispered. “I didn’t fucking know.”

“Would you still have done it?” He wiped his thumbs over her cheeks, smearing those glittering trails of wetness into her skin. “Huh? Would you still have fucked him if—”

“No!” She shook her head, blinked another pair of tears from her eyes. “Jesus, no.”

That statement — or perhaps the sliver of sincerity that sparkled in her eyes — doused his anger like a bucket upended over a fireplace. Releasing her, he turned and took a seat at the kitchen counter. Then he retrieved the bowl of soup she’d been dishing up and slid it closer.

“Glad to hear it. Now go pack something warm.”

She used the heel of her hand to swipe at her eyes. “I don’t have something warm.” She slopped soup into her own bowl, choosing to sit across the table from him.

“Penny should have.”

“She who will not be named?” Angel muttered.

He put his spoon down.

Angel froze, drew a deep breath, and tore off a piece of bread from the French loaf she’d put in the middle of the table.

“Sorry.” This, another mutter.

“Sorry, who?”

“Sorry, Sir.”

He grunted, watching her as she dipped her bread into her soap and nibbled at it. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

She didn’t look at him, instead concentrating on her food. He’d heard her moving about the kitchen the past hour, but he’d been caught up with filling in forms and forging Bryce’s signature on them; he hadn’t been about to interrupt. The smells coming from his bowl were making his mouth water; she’d prepared some kind of tomato and herb soup that had a swirl of pale cream in the middle. It even had a few bits of caramelized onion sprinkled on top.

“Isn’t it?” he prompted when she refused to answer.

“Yes, Sir.”

“So why are you sulking?”

Angel’s cheeks tinged pink at that, and she pushed her bowl away. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Eat.”

She’d already slid from the kitchen stool, but her jaw set and she turned back to her place setting. And then she began shoveling spoonfuls of soup into her mouth, using the knuckle on her thumb to smear away whatever trickles escaped her mouth.

“I don’t like your attitude.”

“And I don’t like being shoved around like a pawn in this fucking game of yours.” Her blue eyes blazed like frozen sapphires when she glared up at him. “But I guess we’ll both just have to get used to it.”

Her bowl was empty when she slid off her stool again. She paused as if waiting for another command. Another order for her stay, or eat, or behave. But he just watched, calmly sliding his spoon into his mouth.

After a few seconds, Angel turned and left. Drew stared after her, pushing away his bowl the moment he heard her making her way up the stairs.

It wasn’t the food — that had been some of the best soup he’d tasted — but his appetite had vanished at Angel’s statement.

What she didn’t get was that he wasn’t using her as a pawn. She was the queen, if anything. Capable of mimicking the move of every piece on the board… except for the knight, of course.

A faint smile pulled at his mouth.

And, in this analogy, he was the knight.