Vendetta - Lane Sienna (чтение книг TXT) 📗

Frank looks at me, asking for confirmation. “Yeah, he admitted to working for Keith. Stevie was there.”

“I expect you handled that?” This directed at me.

“He did.” Stevie answers for me again, imitating a gunshot with his fingers.

“Speaking of Keith,” Frank says, abandoning his computer. He leans his elbows on the table, connecting his palms. “Did you speak to George?”

“George, yeah,” I say. “He can arrange the meeting at one of the warehouses.”

“I don't like it,” Stevie says suddenly. We both look at him. “I don't like it,” he repeats. “It should be on their turf.”

“We don't want to start a war,” I tell him calmly, hoping he understands what I'm trying to say. I turn back to Frank, dismissing Stevie. “I think it's ideal. We'll say we want to discuss handing over the warehouse control. You know they’ve wanted it, ever since my parents disappeared.”

My uncle shakes his head. “I have to agree with Stevie,” he says. Stevie grins in triumph.

What the fuck?

He is trying to start a fucking war.

“Leave,” I tell Stevie. He looks unsure, but he doesn't move. “I said, fucking leave!” I yell at him.

Frank nods at Stevie, and only then does he get up and walk out of the room. I wait for the door to click shut.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Don't speak to me like that, Devon,” my uncle says, calm as ever. It pisses me off even more.

“Was that really necessary?” I point toward the door where Stevie went. “To disrespect me like that?”

“I didn't disrespect you.” He shakes his head condescendingly. “You didn't think it through. It won't work. We only get one chance. One chance, Devon.”

“So you let me think I’m the one calling the shots, when you’ve secretly been working behind my back? Are you doing this just to prove how incapable I am? Unworthy of my name?”

He just looks at me.

“Is that what you think? Fucking answer me, for once.” I slam my fist on the table. He doesn't even flinch.

“Contact George, see when the next family meeting is,” he says, as if I said nothing at all.

“Are you serious?” I ask in disbelief. I literally can't believe he's doing this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, doubt rears its ugly head.

What if it was him? If this is all a setup?

“Tell Stevie to come back in on your way out.”

Wordlessly, I get up and exit his office.

LEIGHTON

I scribble out the face on the paper, and then crumble the drawing in my hand. I try to throw it into the basket, but miss.

I suck at life. Not for much longer, though. For some reason, this thought has me giggling hysterically, and then I stop.

I’ve been sitting on my bed brooding ever since Devon walked out. It pisses me off that I’m stuck here in this damn room while he’s out doing God knows what. There's nothing on TV. Nothing. The books on Hayley's reader annoy me at this point.

I place the pencil down gently and lie flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling, following the swirly pattern in the plaster with my finger in the air.

Stupid happy endings. I'm the living proof they don't exist. Soon to be dead proof.

Another fit of giggles, these interrupted by Hayley, who finally decides to come in with lunch. I don’t pay her any attention when she enters, but tilt my head when she stands next to the bed.

“Here’s your lunch,” she says, her voice a little tight.

“Thanks.” I take the bag from her hand and put it down on the bedside table. Then I resume my interesting task of staring at the ceiling, hoping she'll take the hint and leave.

She doesn’t.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asks, her voice hesitant. I stare at her as she pushes her hair behind her ear, her watchful gaze on me. She looks . . . well, she looks like hell.

“Didn't sleep much last night,” she says as if reading my thoughts.

“Neither did I.” I grin at her. I don't know why I said it. To rub it in, or something.

“Oh, retract your fucking claws. I told you, it's not like that between us.”

But it was. I take her in from head to toe, seeing her in a whole new light. I see her as someone Devon held, kissed. Fucked. That earns me a horrible visual in my head, making me cringe.

Obviously he found her attractive. For that alone, I hate her. It pisses me off—even tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and her hair has definitely seen better days—she's gorgeous. Aside from the color of our eyes, we're nothing alike.

It soothes the ache just a little bit. It makes it worse at the same time. I can actually see why he went to her to get away from me. She's as different as he could get.

I turn my head away from her. “You’re not staying, are you?” I ask, deciding it's better to be left alone. No need to torture myself any more than I already have. I sit up against the headboard and glance into the bag, seeing what food she brought.

“So it’s like that now, is it?” she asks, sitting down on the bed. I stare her down, but don’t say anything.

“Look, Leighton, I'm sorry for what I said. I like you. I do. But . . . ” she trails off.

“But you love Devon. I get it, trust me.”

She looks thoughtful. “Yes, Devon will always come first to me. I want what’s best for him, and we both know that isn’t you.”

I'd be lying if I said the truth doesn't hurt. I squeeze my eyes shut at her harsh words. “What have you heard about me, Hayley?”

“What do you mean?” she asks a little warily. She tilts her head to watch me.

“Surely you’ve heard things about me over the years,” I say with a slight shrug. People talk about me. I’m not being egotistical; it just comes with being a part of my family.

“I’ve heard gossip over the years, sure,” she says, leaning back on her hands.

“Did you ever hear anything nice?” I ask, my lip twitching when she narrows her eyes.

She looks at me like I've grown a pair of horns. “I heard you were a mean bitch.”

I let her think about that as I take out the container of Chinese she brought me. Spork again. Really.

“Are you threatening me?” Hayley suddenly asks, sitting up straight. I shrug my shoulders. I'm not threatening her, not really, but I like that she thought of it.

She stands up and starts pacing the room. “He thinks he loves you,” she says in a quiet, unwavering tone. She looks at me. “Do you love him?”

I busy myself, stuffing my mouth with food.

She shakes her head and scoffs. “Then leave him alone, you stupid bitch. You're ruining him. You're poison to him,” she yells, losing her temper.

The door opens. We both shut up. Devon stands there, his confused eyes looking back and forth between the two of us. Hayley clears her throat. It does absolutely nothing to clear the stuffy atmosphere in the room. I want him to come to me so bad.

He walks over to her and she props herself on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.

I fucking hate her.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“I thought you had business to take care of,” I say quietly, my tone giving nothing away.

“I do, I was just dropping in for a minute.” His gaze darts to Hayley. “Hales?”

Hayley opens her mouth to talk but then Devon glances at me, and interrupts her before she can start. “Go, I'll talk to you tomorrow,” he demands, pointing with his hand toward the door, his eyes still locked to mine. She narrows her eyes at me, pulling on his sleeve.

He looks at her and his voice softens. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

I drop my head and squeeze my eyes shut. He probably wouldn't like it if I strangled her to death.

“Fine,” she says, and then I hear the door open and close. I open my eyes and look at him locking the door after her.

“Are you okay?” he asks, bracing his fingers together behind his neck.

“Just peachy.”

“What was that all about?” He approaches me carefully; almost like he's scared I'll run off.