Chapter Nine

Layla

Just be polite and then get out of there. My hand hovered over the doorbell. Or I could bail and tell Cyrus I couldn’t do it. Make up an excuse that Reaper scares the hell out of me and I couldn’t be in a room with him alone.

But Cyrus knew Reaper wouldn’t hurt me. If anything, all Reaper had done was be nice to me.

I groaned. Just be polite. I pushed the doorbell. Just be polite. Give the facts and then bolt.

The door opened and there stood Satan himself: Tyson. He went cold on me that Monday and had ignored me for the past two weeks. At first, I shrugged off his cold front and was polite and made conversation with him. I got one-word answers in return.

That lasted for five days. FIVE DAYS I put up with it! Nearly a full week. Then I picked up the hint that he wanted nothing to do with me. I went from being polite to ignoring him back. We didn’t speak. We didn’t look at each other.

And I hoped his Dad wasn’t planning on him being in the meeting. The meeting I was being forced to attend because I did the fucking books.

I was cursing the day I’d ever agreed to do the books.

He stood back and didn’t welcome me in. He didn’t even say a word and I didn’t expect him to. He was a dick. A selfish dick. And I hated the fact that I let him touch me. Well, that would never happen again. Thank god we didn’t have sex that night.

I walked past him, following Reaper’s voice.

I walked into the study and my life got a bit shittier when Cameron turned around. He would be dead if Cyrus knew he made a move on me. Seriously, you don’t just feel up a girl! Especially one that has no interest in you whatsoever.

“Layla, babe. How are you?” He actually had the guts to grin at me.

“Fine. How’s the eye?” Had I made my point when I punched him? “Personally, I think you got off lightly because my right hook is much meaner. My left not so good.” I shrugged, carefree. “But clearly good enough to leave a bruise.” And now I was the one grinning as his face soured.

Reaper was smirking, looking between us. “So much for a bar fight, Cameron.”

“He got off lightly. Cyrus would have killed him.” I gave Cameron a pointed look. Cyrus would hurt him if he knew. “In fact, I think it would have been enough for him to pull his gun out. Do you squirm when a gun is pointed at you, Cameron?” I turned to look at him and I had never disliked someone as much as I dislike him.

You don’t touch a girl when she says no. Fact. Even bikers understood that.

“I told you I was sorry,” Cameron snapped at me. “You’ve already brought it to my president’s attention now. I don’t see why you need to bring it to yours,” he gritted out, like he was in trouble now because I had mentioned it.

“He isn’t my president. He is my dad,” I corrected him. “The last man that did what you did to me got his hand shot off.” And that was true. I was fourteen.

“I’ll handle it, Layla. You don’t need to get Cyrus involved,” Reaper said, getting up, and I had to break my glare off of Cameron to look at him.

“It was handled when I punched him. You don’t need to get involved.” I looked at his paperwork. “You ready to talk business now?”

“Yeah take a seat, and, Cameron, fuck off.” Reaper sat back down. I wished I could fast forward the next hour. It wouldn’t take longer than an hour, right? “Tyson, close the door.”

I pinched my eyes shut for a second. Great, he was still around. Satan. Typically, he would still be around. He took the armchair next to mine. I wanted nothing more than to move my chair further from his. I knew it was childish but it was true and I wasn’t a liar.

If he knew what was good for him, he better remain silent.

I would tell them what I had to. And then I was leaving and telling Cyrus a new rule: I would be going to no meeting without him.

I would not be up against and in a room alone with the Wilson boys again. Reaper and Tyson were as deadly as each other.

Turned out Tyson was a lot like his Dad, with a reputation leading up to his father’s.

I had to respect him for it. Being the Reaper’s son wouldn’t be easy. But still, that didn’t mean you treated women like shit. How you treat a woman says a lot about a man.

“How many fronts have you lot set up by now?” Reaper lit up a cigarette and cursed when his phone started ringing. He frowned at whoever was calling and answered.

I didn’t want to, in fact, everything was telling me not to. But my eyes glanced at Tyson, whose eyes were on me. He wasn’t glaring at me and I’d have to say that was a miracle. In fact, the only thing painted in his blue eyes was regret.

“Layla, we will have to reschedule.” Reaper got up abruptly. “Abby has a student camped out at her car.”

“Mum, already?” Tyson asked, sitting up.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Waiting for me to tell him to fuck off. Sorry, Layla.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I got up.

“I’d get Brad to handle it but he’s fucked off.” Reaper ran a hand through his hair. “When are you free again?”

“Don’t worry about me. Go rescue your wife. Whenever you want to do it, I’m free.” I didn’t exactly have a lot to do after school.

“I’ll do it,” Tyson said. And my head snapped at him. He didn’t just say that. “I know what you want to know. I can get the details off Layla.”

Was he insane? I was not being in a room alone with him! Nope. Not now. Not ever. “It’s fine, we can reschedule.” I looked at Tyson coldly. He better keep his mouth shut.

“Don’t really see a point in that when we can do it tonight.” He looked at me. Not with anger or annoyance, but something else was in his eyes.

Well, he could go get fucked.

“I’m happy to wait.” I pulled out my phone, checking the time. I could crash Hannah’s hotel room.

“Don’t want you to get the wrong impression of the club.” Tyson looked at Reaper. “Cameron has already left one impression.”

What was he getting at? That I would think badly of them if they canceled? God, didn’t he know I was a better person than that? “My impression of the club hasn’t changed.”

“Yeah, because we left a bad impression.” Tyson crossed his arms, challenging me.

“Look, your dad needs to go rescue your mum and you’re holding him up.”

“Say you’ll stay and he can go.” Tyson had the nerve to ask that of me!

He was really putting me on the spot. I did not want to be alone with him. How could I have a conversation with someone I’d swore never to speak to again? I narrowed my eyes at him. He was doing this on fucking purpose.

“Fine. I’ll stay.” I gritted out and glared at him. I would not say one word to him. Nope. Not one word. As soon as Reaper left and was headed for Abby, I was leaving as well. As for the business we were meant to talk about, well, it could wait.

I was not giving him one detail.

I was going to be stubborn.

“Leave you two to it. Sorry, Layla. Didn’t realize I was leaving a bad impression.” Reaper glanced at his son, arching his eyebrows.

“You aren’t and haven’t,” I corrected him and shot a glare at Tyson. Him and his mouth.

Reaper was looking at his son with a knowing smile. “Still, I’ll leave my son to give you a better impression.” He looked harder at Tyson. “Don’t fuck it up, Tyson.”

“Wouldn’t dare, Dad.”

Ideas of how I could pay back Tyson for this started to flash through my mind. Maybe I could put Eve up to annoying him. Hannah wouldn’t do it. She cared too much what he thought.

Reaper said bye and left. He gave Tyson an expression I didn’t understand. It was like they’d had a silent conversation while I stood there.

I heard the front door close and I had to face the fact that I was alone in a house with Tyson.

“So, do you want to sit down?” Tyson said.

I glared at him. Suddenly I didn’t want to sit down, just to spite him. I just had to wait till Reaper was gone and then I was leaving.

“Dad didn’t write down questions but I roughly know what he wants to know.” Tyson turned to face me.

I was still standing and still glaring at him. I wasn’t speaking to him. Not now. Not ever.

“You going to sit down?”

I heard a motorbike start up. As soon as the noise of the engine disappeared I was out of here.

It slowly started to disappear and I moved across the room. I was leaving. And Tyson realized it. He was quick to block my exit.

“Layla, don’t leave.” He stood firmly in my way, filling the doorway. I couldn’t bolt if I wanted to. Which was what I was trying to do. Bolt. “Will you at least look at me?”

I was glaring at the carpet. I wanted him to move but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of a conversation with me.

“So, not talking to me?” He crossed his arms.

I scoffed. He was meant to be smart. I kept glaring at the carpet. I wanted him to move. But I didn’t want to speak to him or touch him. So I just stood there. Waiting for him to give up.

“I guess I deserve this,” he sighed. “Okay, get it off your chest.”

I was not giving him the pleasure of an argument with me. I was not getting anything off my chest. I was not speaking to him.

He could go get fucked.

“Layla, just say one word to me.”

Nope. Not happening. Then he did something he really shouldn’t have. He touched me. I swiped his hand off my cheek.

“Don’t touch me.” I couldn’t hold back the venom in my voice. He was rude. He was moody. And he sure as fuck was a dick.

“And finally she speaks.” He smiled at me.

“Yeah, to tell you not to touch me!”

“Can we talk business now, or are you still wanting to storm off like a child?”

“Fuck off Tyson.” I was not talking him. Even though I was. I groaned. This was complicated. Why did I care if he spoke to me or not? Why did I care if he ignored me? Why the hell did it bother me so much?

I had to be cold to him. Do what he did to me. Force him away.

“I’ll talk to your dad. You don’t need to speak to me.” I tilted my head and glared at him. “You hate speaking to me. So don’t break a habit now.”

If he really wanted to speak to me he should have spoken to me when I attempted to make conversation with him last week.

“What do you want me to say?”

I scoffed again. Seriously? He had no idea what I might want to hear? How about why he went so hot and so cold on me? Why did it bother me so much? I wanted to yell at myself. It didn’t matter why he had done it; he had done it, and that was all that mattered.

I side-stepped him but he blocked me.

“Come on, my dad won’t accept me not getting the details from you.”

I didn’t care if he got in trouble with his father. I crossed my arms.

“Come on, Layla. Don’t make me say it.”

I continued to glare at him. He could still get fucked. And if he didn’t move, I would be forced to push past him.

He groaned. “Fine. You’re going to make me say it.” He sounded disgusted at the thought of telling me whatever he thought he had to say. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to hear it.

I watched his expression harden. He looked furious. “I don’t do this,” he snapped at me.

“What, not talk to people? Trust me, you should do it more often. Save other people the misfortune of speaking to you.” I broke my silence but couldn’t stop myself.

His expression hardened even more and he was back to glaring at me. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Say what Tyson?!” I threw my arms up. “I have no idea what you are talking about! I don’t want to talk to you. I want to leave!”

“Yep. I’m going to have to do it.” He took a step toward me and I took my opportunity and attempted to go around him but he blocked me again. “At least hear me out? You are forcing me to say it after all.”

What was I forcing him to tell me? He looked really torn up about it.

“Whatever it is, Tyson, just keep it to yourself.” I gave him some advice and went to walk around him, but he blocked me again and I groaned. “Why won’t you let me leave?”

“I like you.”

I frowned. “No, you don’t.” If anything he hated me. “You hate me, Tyson. You clearly don’t know the difference between like and hate.”

“Nah I was…” He groaned. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“What are you trying to say? I don’t understand!”

“I was pissed off you got it on with Cameron. I thought I had made it clear to you I was interested and then you go let one of my brothers have you!”

“I didn’t get with Cameron! He felt me up and I punched him!”

“Yeah, I know that now!” He let a frustrated sigh. “I shouldn’t have listened to him to begin with.”

Men. All they cared about was the opinion of other men. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.” I went to walk around him but he blocked me again.

“It does matter because I was a dick.”

“Not was. Am.”

“Layla.”

“Don’t Layla me.” I snapped, not in the mood. “Please move.” I was saying please. And I think that was asking nicely. After how he treated me, me saying please was a big deal.

“I’m sorry.”

I knew he wasn’t used to saying those words and by the expression on his face it looked like it physically hurt him to say it.

Which meant he didn’t mean them.

“Move, Tyson. I don’t do games.” I crossed my arms. “And I don’t accept your apology.”

“You should have told me you didn’t hook up with Cameron!”

“You didn’t ask me!” God, what a frustrating situation. “Clearly you don’t know me. Because someone that knows me would know I wouldn’t do something like that!”

“You’re right, I don’t know you.” He stepped into my personal space. “But I want to.” He did it again. He touched me; his hand on my hip. “Let me get to know you?”

“You’re asking me to let you get to know me?” I didn’t let people get to know me. I was a private person. Hannah had been the only one to get to really know me.

“Give me a shot? I know you might not think it but I’m a good guy,” he grinned. “Please, Layla.”

Give him a shot? Nope. Not doing it.

“You know, there is one thing I can use to get to know someone.” He lowered his voice, “Can we do this my way?”

His way? What did he mean by that? My breath got caught when he dipped his head. Please don’t do it. His lips brushed mine. God, why would he do that to me! Getting me addicted on something I’d never get a good dose of.

His lips brushed mine again, this time firmer. I was such an idiot. I should push him away! Instead, I was standing still.

He pulled back, locking his eyes with mine. “How about I let you get to know me and then if you trust me you can let me get to know you?”

I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. Something was telling me he was trustworthy, yet a louder part of me was screaming to never get close to him, to not let him get his wish, to not let him get to know me. Because then he would know how to destroy me.

I was a sucker for people. I cared what they thought. I cared about people. Even when I didn’t want to, I still cared. So it really bothered me when he cut me off. One night he was all over me, literally, and the next he couldn’t string two words together and couldn’t stand the sight of me.

If he got to know me he would realize I cared. I cared a hell of a lot of what people thought. I would care what he thought of me. I had cared to begin with. That’s what got me so pissed off with him.

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” He tilted his head, watching me. He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, if there is one thing about you, Layla, it’s that you aren’t easy.” He sighed. “Come on, give me a shot?”

I should really leave. Yet, I found myself still standing in front of him. “Twelve.”

He frowned. “Twelve what?”

“Cyrus. He has twelve fronts already.” Fronts were businesses he controlled but laundered money through.

He frowned. “We’re talking business?”

I nodded my head. It was the best I could do. “You said your dad would be upset if we didn’t. Cyrus will be pissed if I don’t get it over with, so, business.”

I watched as a plan clicked over in Tyson’s head.

“How about I ask you one business question and you ask me one personal question?” He was still set on the idea of me getting to know him. Did he really think I would open up to him? No matter how well I knew him, I didn’t see myself opening up to him. Because that was information he could use against me.

“Okay.”

“So, you answered my business question. You ask me something.” He smiled. “Anything at all. I want you to know me.”

I chewed my bottom lip. Why did I have a feeling this was going to backfire in my face?