10. Jordan

The upstairs wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. The wooden floor had a few boards lifted in spots. Stale air greeted me when I got to the top. It didn't matter. Only the man in front of me did. And he was offering me tea.

The last time I drank tea was when Irene insisted on it. My throat had grown hoarse from tearing into one of my guards for slacking on his job. Not in front of Irene, but she heard my voice when I returned. She sat me down and made me drink until I offered her a semblance of a smile to assure her I was okay.

I didn't care for the taste, but it made my throat feel better. I also hadn't had it since. Apparently, I had to today. Telling Hartley no wasn't an option. He appeared so defeated in front of me. I would do almost anything to put a smile on his face.

And where the fuck was that coming from? I didn't care if people smiled. I reveled in their misery. Yet Hartley didn't seem the same to me, looking so down.

"You might as well come all the way up," he said. "I have a little table in the kitchen."

I followed him into the small kitchen with cabinets and appliances on one side while a small bistro table sat on the other. The chair had seen better days, though it didn't collapse when I sat down, so I wasn't going to complain. Hartley kept glancing over his shoulder, like he was afraid at any moment I'd change my mind and leave or start criticizing where he lived.

There wasn't a smile on my lips. Not a twitch of anything, except the fucking cough rising in my throat. I wanted to find whoever got me sick and stick a knife in their neck. There was too much to be done for me to not feel well.

Hartley turned with a plain white mug in his hand. A tea label hung on a string over the rim. He set it on the table next to me. "Would you like milk in it or sugar? I added some honey, but nothing else."

"Honey is fine. Thank you for your kindness."

He stumbled over his words before getting out, "You're welcome."

"Why is everyone so shocked when I thank them? I'm not a complete monster. I have manners."

"Because you're you. People don't expect pleasantries." He quickly bit his lip.

"Hartley, speak freely. I don't want you to buffer your words on my account. By now, you should realize I'm not going to harm you." I'd rather slit my own throat than cause him pain. Jesus, what was wrong with me? Maybe I should have the doctor check me out after all. I must have a fever.

Hartley sat on the other chair and faced me with his hands folded on the table. "I like that you thank me. It lets me know I'm doing a good job, and you appreciate the time I take to create the clothing for you."

"And the tea." I lifted the mug and took a sip. The honey added a bit of sweetness. Surprisingly, it soothed the tickle in my throat a bit.

A smile formed on his lips. "And the tea." He looked around the room. "I used to have more. A place I was proud of, but life got in the way and here we are. You have no idea how grateful I am for you selecting my design and your willingness to work with me, given the situation."

"I don't judge a person by their circumstances, but rather by their actions. You are not your home. You're a talented designer." Before I could say anything else, I sneezed, then sneezed again. "Fuck's sake," I growled.

Hartley handed me a napkin so I could blow my nose, which I did and washed my hands. The white porcelain sink had stains inside it. I had to grip the edge of the counter once my hands were clean. I wanted to pull Hartley from here and give him a space he could be proud of again. But even I knew that was overstepping. Normally, I wouldn't give a fuck, but Hartley wasn't like every other man. He was proud. He'd find his footing again.

I knew about him and his situation. Those thoughts stayed with me. He might not react kindly if he knew I went digging into his past. Although, he had to realize I'd do a little work to see who he was. Walking into strangers' homes wasn't a common occurrence for me.

When I looked down at my hands, I was reminded of all the blood that had coated them over the years. Of the lives I'd taken without a second thought. No, Hartley wasn't meant for my world and my hands should stay off him.

Since when did I do what was right?

"Jordan?" His palm gently touched my back, causing my shoulders to tense. He must have seen them move because his hand quickly fell away.

I faced him, then took his hand in mine, even though I shouldn't. Raising it, I placed his palm on my chest over my heart, beneath my suit jacket, just to feel him close. "I'm not a normal man, Hartley. I'm dangerous and have a list of issues a mile long."

His fingers dug into my shirt, like he worried I'd pull him away. "I'm not afraid of you any longer."

"You were at one point?"

"I'm not an idiot. The more I get to know you, the more I see you're not just the mafia boss everyone thinks you are. You have a kindness you don't readily show. In your world, being kind probably isn't a good thing. Here with me, I like it. I like that I see another side of you."

"There's nothing in me but dark recesses and blood. My heart may beat, but it's given up on anything other than vengeance and success. I live to keep others alive. To build a fortune and pay the people who work for me. I want my family safe. If something were to happen to me, I need them protected. So, while you might think there's more to me, I'm not sure there is." Not anymore, at least.

Hartley stepped closer. I gazed down at him, into his gentle brown eyes. "You're pushing me away before there's anything to push."

"It's safer that way." A sudden cough rose up my throat. I turned to cough into my arm, trying to avoid getting germs on him. "I should go." Taking his hand into mine, I was grateful I didn't cough into it so I could touch him. "Thank you for making me tea."

"Before you leave, can I say something?"

I nodded.

"I'm drawn to you and don't know why. It's not the danger. I don't like it and stay away from ways I could be hurt. It's not the money. I don't care about that either. The money I have, I earned. But I can't resist leaning closer when you're near. You can tell me there's not more to you, but that's not true. I won't beg for anything, that's not my style. My interest in you is out there now, as unprofessional as it is. Do with it what you will."

It wasn't in my nature to be speechless. Regardless of the situation, I always had a reply. And yet, I hesitated before saying, "I'll consider your words." Resisting the urge to kiss the palm of his hand, I gave it a squeeze and released him, even though I wanted nothing more than to feel it on my bare flesh. "Good day, Hartley."

I eased from the small kitchen and descended the stairs. Raiden's lips twitched when I got to the bottom. He didn't speak, although he clearly wanted to.

Leaning close, I said, "Open your mouth and I will knock your teeth down your throat." It wasn't an empty threat, and he knew it.

His back went straighter as he opened the front door. Reghan was on the other side, waiting for me to leave.

Albert exited the car to open the door for me. "Where to now, sir?"

"The fucking drugstore. I need cold medicine."

"I can run out once you're home."

I waved him off. "We'll pass three of them on the way there. Just pick one and park so I can go inside." Usually, I'd send someone to get what I needed, but the interaction with Hartley unmoored me. I had to do something rather than go back inside and kiss the hell out of the man who just had his hand on me. One hand and not even on my naked body.

Albert expertly navigated the streets of East Dremest while I coughed, sneezed, and cursed in the back because what in the ever-loving fuck. I was giving it three days tops before I called the doctor to give me something, letting my body try to fight it first. If I went downhill, I would need medication to put me back on my feet again.

We stopped in front of a chain drugstore that looked like all the others, except for the color of the sign out front. Raiden and Reghan followed me inside, looking this way and that, like at any moment someone was going to come at me with a box of condoms, a bottle of B-12 vitamins, and a gun. I was in a shit mood, having to leave the warmth of Hartley's presence. If someone stepped wrong toward me, I was likely to pull my gun and end them on the spot. Apparently, I got more murderous when I was sick.

After finding the right sign above the aisle I was looking for, I stopped when I got to the cold medicine section. Ignoring the liquid medicines because I didn't like the taste of that shit, I went for the pills, grabbing four different kinds. Reading labels required more patience than I had, so I'd grab these and pick a winner in the car.

Back in the vehicle, Albert reminded me of a meeting I was supposed to be at, courtesy of Vivian relaying it to him.

"I'm firing her," I growled. Pulling out my phone, I sent her a text saying I wasn't doing shit for the rest of the day, and she better not say a fucking word to me when I returned. She wasn't allowed in my home. Her office was a floor below where I lived. I trusted her mother, but not her. Not yet anyway. If she kept up this incessant nagging, she was going to be standing on the sidewalk looking for another person to annoy for a living.

"Sir, she's only doing the job she was hired for."

"A job I didn't need filled."

"You miss more meetings than you attend."

"For a reason. I don't give a fuck about the others. I go to what's important."

"Maybe you should hire someone to attend the meetings in your stead," he suggested.

I had that with Malik. He would do what I couldn't, and I could trust him implicitly. Until I couldn't. Until I had to put a bullet in his head for betraying me.

The taste of honey still lingered on my tongue, pulling me back to Hartley. It was better that I left. Nothing good would have come of it if I'd stayed. I would have gotten in deeper and wouldn't have been able to let him go.