Everything we’re talking about is illegal as hell, and I have to wonder why I’m suddenly growing a conscience when murder had been my primary agenda in the not-so-distant past.
“Or,” Dennis says with an evil glint in his eye. “Let JT make the bet, let him lose, and you promise to pay the bookie. Get it in writing he transfers Sugar Bowl ownership to you, then fuck him over and don’t pay a damn dime. Let him take the beating he deserves, then go to the police.”
“Fuck JT over?” Beck asks in amazement, and I can tell by the tone of his voice that this appeals greatly to Beck’s sense of justice.
“It’s still too risky,” I say, again trying to be the voice of reason between these two men who are now scenting blood in the water. “We don’t even know VanZant will take the fall. Or that JT will come to you for the money. It’s a whole bunch of luck you’re relying on.”
Beck turns my way once again and smirks. “Seems to me I remember a woman who was banking on a whole lot of luck that first night when you planned to confront JT at that mixer.”
“Well, I hadn’t thought things through—”
“Sela,” Beck cuts me off. “These are all good options, and yes . . . luck will be involved. What’s the worst that will happen? I won’t get JT out of the business cleanly, but we’ll still have the option of going to the police.”
I stare at Beck, searching deeply into his eyes, hoping to find some measure of comfort over what we’re attempting to do. I’m terrified Beck will get so caught up in this he’ll fail to look out for his own safety and well-being, but he looks back at me with confidence and surety.
He’s asking me to trust him on this and let him help me.
While so much of this still feels wrong, it’s the way Beck is looking at me right now that causes me to nod my head in acquiescence.
Beck turns to Dennis. “Make the offer to VanZant. If he bites, we roll forward as planned. Operation Fuck Over JT is now in progress.”
“Do you want me to float an offer to buy the debt from his bookie?” Dennis asks.
Beck immediately shakes his head. “No. Like Sela said, that’s just too complicated, so let’s keep this very simple. Make the offer to VanZant to take the fall. If he does, JT loses the bet and the bookie comes to collect. I’m prepared to pay four million to JT to get him out of The Sugar Bowl. It’s a cheap price for the buyout of a business that will generate more than a hundred times that amount over my life.”
He then turns his gaze to me and gives me a reassuring smile. I try to levy one back at him, but it’s a pale attempt.
Reaching his hand out, he places his palm to my cheek. “Trust me . . . this will work.”
“I trust you,” I tell him, my smile getting a bit stronger.
Because I do.
Trust this man.
More than anyone else in my life, and I have to believe that we’ll both come out of this on top and I’ll be vindicated.
Chapter 14
Beck
Sela was a nervous wreck this morning as she kissed me before I left to come into work today. After Dennis left us Friday afternoon, we had a low-key weekend, preferring to hang at the condo and decorate for Christmas. We were both somehow able to put all the craziness of our plot against JT aside, and instead concentrate on invoking some holiday spirit.
This will be my first Christmas with a girlfriend.
It’s Sela’s first with a boyfriend.
Two souls who have preferred to be alone for holidays past, now bonded through circumstance, passion, and a focused need for revenge. I’m not sure if that’s the stuff that love is built upon, but I know that watching Sela set out her mom’s nutcrackers with a fond smile on her face, or helping her cut out sugar cookies that we later burned and still ate anyway, filled me with a satisfaction and warm happiness I’ve never felt before.
For the entire weekend we transformed the condo into a Christmas wonderland, ate takeout and burned cookies, and fucked—or maybe we made love, I’m not sure—like two people starving for a connection.
We didn’t discuss JT or our plan to bring him down once.
Until this Monday morning after I showered and dressed, drank my cup of coffee,