Insidious
Page 98

 Aleatha Romig

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“Victoria,” Travis’ deep voice pulled me from the depths of my thoughts and questions. “The way you’ve handled the Albinis, I think Mr. Harrington would be proud. Honestly, I think he’d be shocked. I’m sorry to say, he probably underestimated you.”
You have no fucking idea. “I don’t think he’s the only one.”
Travis’ lips went together in a straight line, before he said, “He did care about you. I see how you would doubt that, but he did.”
I didn’t want to think about Stewart caring for me; nevertheless, I asked, “How do you know?”
“I know. He worked to keep your identity hidden from both sides. He believed that if Carlisle knew who you were that you’d be in danger.”
I turned toward Travis. “My mother had said the same thing, but I didn’t sense that. Did you? Just now?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I think Mr. Albini respects you.”
“Oh, God!” My stomach lurched as nausea struck with a vengeance.
“What?” Travis’ dark eyes flew my direction. “What’s the matter? Are you getting sick?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I had a thought. Oh, God, please, please Travis… please tell me that the Albinis aren’t friends.”
He reached over and placed his hand on my suddenly trembling knee. Feeling the warmth, I stared at the size as I waited for his answer. After a moment, he pulled it away. “Sorry, I remember: no touching, ever.” His lips morphed into a lopsided grin. “No, the Albinis weren’t among Stewart’s friends. I’m pretty sure they have plenty of women in their business. However, the more I see of them, the more I’m inclined to believe that they may be a few of the more honorable men in a world of filth. It’s no doubt why they’re the most successful.” He looked back toward me. “Nothing against you, but I’m not sure they would’ve wanted to be one of Stewart’s friends.”
“You did.” I wasn’t sure what made me say it, but once it was out I couldn’t bring it back.
Travis shrugged. “I’m not honorable.”
“I’m beginning to question that. A while ago, I would’ve agreed with you, but now I’m not too sure.” I turned toward him and studied his profile. His hard chin flexed as his jaw clenched. “You did it on purpose didn’t you?”
“What?” he asked.
“You were an ass to me. That day at the warehouse; you wanted me to know it was you.”
He forced a laugh. “Yes, because I’m into being bitten until I bleed, and kneed in the balls. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”
“No.” I shook my head, closed my eyes, and turned away. I remembered that day. I remembered his scent and his warm breath. I was so fucking scared. After that incident, it took a while for Stewart to invite his first friends; instead, Stewart spent more time and worked with me, encouraged me. That day also gave me a sense that even with what he was making me do, Stewart had my back. Maybe he did, but now I knew that Travis did too. Travis was always there, even today. “You knew I wasn’t ready. You did what you did: you purposely made sure I knew it was you. You did that so I’d have more time. You also wanted me to know that through all that shit, I was protected.”
Travis’ knuckles blanched as his grip assaulted the steering wheel. “You’re wrong. I wanted to fuck you. I’m the only fucking man who’s been at the warehouse who hasn’t had his cock inside of you. I was too energetic. I screwed up.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Travis turned his narrow dark gaze back toward me. “Are you calling me a fucking liar?”
Smugly, I nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“You’re wrong. I wanted to fuck you before and I still do. Maybe when we get to Craven and Knowles we should check out the legality of my contract.”
“You’re a liar and that’s not happening. If you really wanted it, Stewart would have caved. He would have let you.”
“Mrs. Harrington, you’re dead wrong.”
I grinned toward the window. “Victoria, asshole, my name is Victoria, and I’m not wrong. You’ve been a nice guy all along. Ha! Who knew?”
I glanced at the clock in the SUV as Travis parked outside of Craven and Knowles. It was nearly seven-thirty: almost five hours since I’d left Parker in the warehouse. As we approached the leaded glass doors to the ostentatiously large entry of the esteemed law firm, Trish sprang from behind her desk, her eyes wide as she rushed toward us. Opening the doors, she said, “Mrs. Harrington, I’m so glad you’re here.”
No doubt, the surprise at Trish’s gregarious greeting was evident on my face. Never once had she been as welcoming. “Trish.” I nodded.
“Mrs. Harrington, let me show you back to Mr. Craven’s office. You’ll see when you get there…” She added in a whisper, “He needs to go home. I’m afraid we’ll all be ill if he doesn’t.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Trish, if Mr. Craven is that sick, perhaps—”
Her long neck, visible with her dark hair twisted behind her head, moved from side to side. “No, he said he’s not leaving until he speaks with you…” She eyed Travis up and down. “…alone.”
I looked to Travis and back to Trish. “That’s fine. Mr. Daniels will wait outside. Shall we go to the conference room?”