To Catch a Thief Read online

  "You arsehole."

  All I could hear were their chuckles, and then I coughed up blood on the pavement.

  Rian

  I needed to right the ship. Dr. McCallister was right. Ollie was a bad habit. I’d thought about him on and off for years. Of course it was natural that I’d have a soft spot for him.

  And I needed to cut myself a little slack. We'd been doing this dance around each other ever since I’d come back to London. And the other night was just a manifestation of that. That was all. These things happened. That's all. Never mind that I hadn't slept a wink all damn weekend. Miriam was not helpful either. She kept clapping her hands gleefully saying God, a kiss like that was worth writing about.

  And it hadn't been. I mean it was perfectly adequate.

  Who are you kidding? You had wet panties this morning because of it.

  I frowned. No I did not. I was not going to think about Oliver Wexler.

  Sure you're not. See how long you manage that.

  I arrived at the office at seven, willing myself to be first. And of course I smiled smugly when I was.

  But by 7:30 I was frowning. Ollie wasn't usually late. Matter of fact, it was normally a race here to see who could outdo the other one.

  So if he was late, something was up.

  I checked the out of office notices in case I'd missed something. But no, he was supposed to be in today.

  When at 8:00 he still hadn't shown, I was worried.

  Not that I was going to tell anyone that.

  Olivia arrived at 8:15, and I was on my feet. Following her into her office, again staring at Ollie's desk.

  When I sat down across from her, pen at the ready, mind still on the empty desk across from me, she smiled. "I got a text from Ben. Ollie's taking a personal day today. So it's just you and me."

  I should be happy about that. Honestly I really should. Except, I wasn't. What the fuck was he doing?

  My mind immediately went back to the Kensington party. The person I'd seen and assumed was Max.

  I dug into my day with gusto. But by mid-morning, I was distracted to say the least. I was able to cross off most of my to-do list. I was efficient when I wasn't having an ongoing battle with Ollie. When I sent off the final reports on operation costs and budget projections to Livy, I looked up and noticed it was 12:30. But I didn't have much left for the rest of the day. I could catch up on tasks that had been waiting for me, but I could do that later. First I had somewhere to be.

  I didn't take one of the company cars to the corporate housing. I took the Tube. And I was always amused that when all was said and done, Ollie ended up living near me. Back in each other's orbit after all this time.

  Thanks to a little look I’d snuck at his employee file, I found his unit easily enough and knocked on his door.

  When no one answered immediately, I peered into the windows and frowned. It was too dark to see anything. I remembered Ollie talking about his sister Tessa and her penchant for forgetfulness which meant there was a key hidden around there somewhere.

  I laughed as I grabbed it up. Aha. Right under the potted plant. Honestly, he was going to get this place broken into one day.

  I let myself in. I called out immediately as the door opened. "Ollie?"

  What are you doing? You two aren't friends. You've made it very, very clear that you are not friends.

  Yeah, we had, but I couldn't shake the feeling something was up, and I couldn't walk away. I couldn't let it go.

  Ollie Wexler is not your problem.

  I knew that. I really, really did. Still, there I was letting myself into his house.

  "Ollie? It's Rian. Are you here?"

  There was no answer, but the house didn't feel empty. So where the fuck was he?

  It wasn't until I traversed upstairs to the loft, that I noticed blood on the floor.

  My stomach pitched. "Oh fuck. Ollie?"

  Someone groaned from the bed, and I ran to it. There was more blood on the sheets.

  "Fucking hell." In the center of the bed was Ollie’s big body. Sprawled out amidst specks of dried blood on the pillowcase and sheets. And his face, Jesus Christ, his face was a mass of black and blue. What the fuck had happened? And when had this happened? He had been at my flat on Saturday night. Had he been like this the last two days?

  "Ollie, are you okay?"

  He groaned and blinked open the eye that wasn't swollen shut.

  "Rian?" A small smile flitted over his lips, and I was so surprised to see it that I froze for a moment. He was happy to see me?

  "Yeah it's me. What is happening right now?"

  It was then as if awareness flickered for him. A small frown marred his brow. "What are you doing here?"

  "Wondering why the fuck you weren't at work. You never miss work."

  "Fuck, you came to check on me?"

  "No, I came to find out if my nemesis was dead. If you were I was going to have a dance on your grave."

  That did make him smile and then wince. "Fuck. Don't make me laugh."

  "I'm not joking."

  "You came to check on me. You like me."

  "I do not." But even I could hear that lack of conviction. "Come on, when was the last time you cleaned up?"

  He frowned again. "Haven't. Managed to send texts this morning."

  "Jesus, okay, whatever you've got going on, is it all over your body as well?" I lifted the sheet, and he tried to hold it in place. But it slipped, showing bumps and bruises along his ribs. And they were taped. "Okay, so you've seen a doctor?"

  He nodded. "Clinic."

  "Why the clinic? We have great private health insurance. Why would you go to some random clinic?"

  It didn't occur to me that he might not want our bosses knowing. But that was all private information. Wasn't it?

  I set my bag down on his nightstand and then marched to the loo. I grabbed the supplies I needed, with some disinfecting things from under the sink as well. And I went into the hallway to the linen closet to pull out fresh sheets. "Okay, look. Whatever this is, you clearly haven't been taking care of it, you've got a cut that looks like it needs re-bandaging, so we might as well replace all the bandages because God knows when you last did it, and let's get you in the shower. Because as pretty as you are all naked and sprawled out like a big jungle cat, you also smell like one. So let's go."

  He grumbled. "Jungle cat, huh?" With a wince and a groan, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Why are you doing this?"

  "You know what? I'm not entirely sure."

  I grabbed one of his arms and wrapped it around my shoulder and then helped him stand and pad across the room and into the loo. "Do you need help, or do you have it?"

  He groaned. "I’ve got it from here."

  "Fine."

  When the door closed in my face, I listened for a few moments to make sure he didn't collapse or anything then set about cleaning the room. I wiped up the blood spots on the floor, changed his sheets and pillowcases, and threw a load of the sheets into the laundry. Then I grabbed him some paracetamol and set it next to the bed and laid out the tools to get him re-bandaged.

  Within fifteen minutes, he was out, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his hips, and holy fucking Christ, not much else. My eyes bulged and had a really difficult time not staring at the expanse of chest Ollie so happily displayed. Even if his ribs were covered with ugly purple bruises.

  My gaze pinned on that wide expanse of chest, a smattering of dark chest hair. Down to the ridiculously sculpted muscles around his ribs and his abdomen and that deep V, pointing to the line of sin and promises.

  "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

  "Wow, I see even when beat up, you're still a dick."

  "Only for you."

  "Fine. Sit here."

  His brow furrowed. "Did you clean my flat?"

  "Yeah. It was nothing. Also, there's some toast and jam there, and some medicine. But let me re-bandage the cut above your eye at the very least."
r />   "I don't need your help." He jerked away from me.

  "Yeah, well you're going to get it anyway."

  "You should go."

  "Sit." I was in no mood for argument.

  To my surprise, he obliged.

  Even though he’d had a shower, I still cleaned his cuts with disinfectant ointment before bandaging them up. When I stood, his gaze met mine.

  I stepped back to inspect my handiwork. "It's not much, but it's the best I could do."

  "Why don't you tell me what you're actually doing here."

  His words were a slap. Why the hell had I thought the other night meant something? "I—I was worried. It's unlike you to miss work. And there's no fun in winning competitions when you're not there."

  The muscle in his jaw ticked. "For real?"

  "W-why are you angry?" I sputtered.

  "Well, you barged in here unannounced. You think because we had a dinner and my hand squeezed your arse that we have something? We don't."

  I blinked, willing my body to stand perfectly still and not wince from his verbal slap. "Wow."

  "Yeah, wow. You might as well go."

  "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you such an asshole?"

  He shook his head. "Nothing. There’s no reason. I’m just an arsehole. You obviously found your way in, so find your way out."

  I took a step back, taking him in. He'd had a shower, and I'd been helping him.

  "I'm not a broken bird you can fix. You taught me that lesson. Stop trying to fix broken things. They're broken for a reason. So off you go. You can tell Livy or whoever the hell actually gives a fuck that I'm fine. I'll be in tomorrow."

  "Why, Ollie?"

  He shook his head. "Nope. You don't get to question me. You don't get to ask questions. You need to go. You vanished from my life for five years, and now is a hell of a time to make a reappearance. I don't need you. The other night meant fuck all. Get gone."

  This time, I couldn't hold back my reaction. The pain in my gut felt like I'd been kicked. "Right of course. I guess I'll just leave you to it."

  He gave me a stiff nod. "Yeah, you do that."

  Thirteen

  Oliver

  No two ways about it. I was a complete twat. She’d called me an arsehole and a dick, and she was right. I couldn't even pretend she wasn't right. I'd hurt her. On purpose. With little thought of her feelings. That wasn't fucking necessary.

  Yes it was.

  Rome's lads were not fucking around. And if they were willing to hurt Tessa, they'd hurt Rian too. For the love of Christ, they’d jumped me mere blocks from her flat. They might have seen me come out of her place, which meant I needed to do what I could to protect her.

  Do you think she wants your protection? Especially now?

  That was the thing about protection. Whether someone needed it or not, you were supposed to give it to them, weren't you?

  I'd wound up taking two personal days. Most of the swelling had gone down, and with a little makeup like Mom had shown me, I could really cover most of the bruise on my eye. If anyone asked, I'd just say that I had been sparring. A thing at the gym. Bridge would believe it.

  As it turned out, Rian wasn't the only one with the bright idea to do the once-overs.

  Maybe I had that suicidal glint to my eye or something.

  I opened the door to find the two of them on the other side of the threshold, annoyed that they'd been inconvenienced. Liam just raised a brow. "Mate, you look like shit."

  "Yeah, thanks for that. As ever, excellent observation."

  Alex frowned at me. "What the fuck happened to you?"

  "I walked into a door. What the fuck do you think happened? I got jumped."

  Both of them exchanged a glance. "By who?"

  "It doesn't matter. The point is, I survived and I’m fine now.”

  Liam frowned. "All right, do you plan on telling the bosses?"

  I shook my head. "Nope."

  Liam didn't bother waiting for an invitation. Instead, he barged right past me into the house. "Right. You don't mind if we let ourselves in, do you?"

  "Actually, I do. I have things to do.” Like figure out how the fuck I was going to get access to Colton Cox.

  Liam just smirked at me. "Well, someone jumped our mate. He doesn't feel like talking about it. But we’re going to be here regardless, and we're not leaving until you do."

  I glanced at Alex, looking for help. All he did was shake his head and frown at me. "He has a point. We need to have this conversation about the Elite. Like it or not, we're all mates now. So if you have a problem, we have a problem. And if you would let on to Bridge, East, Ben, and Drew, I think you would see that they'd feel the same way. If we have a problem, they have a problem. But you're not going to do that, are you? You're going to stay stubborn and pretend that you have everything handled when you fucking don't."

  I scowled at them. "I don't need your help."

  Liam just shook his head. "Have you seen your face? At least you look like you had the wherewithal to clean up."

  No way was I telling them that was the handiwork of Rian. And no way was I telling them that I was basically napalm, toxic to anything I touched.

  Alex just folded his arms and leaned over my billiards table. "Why are you being so stubborn about this? You need help. We can help you. The Lords can help you. So stop acting like an idiot and let someone help you."

  I rolled my shoulders and winced at the tightness I felt. "Don't you see? Everything is on the line right now, boys. This position in the Elite, my job, everything. So I’m not saying a goddamn word to anyone. I'll handle it myself. No one needs to be any the wiser."

  Alex just shook his head. "When are you going to see you don't have to be on your own?"

  I shrugged. "When are you going to see I have to heal my own business? Look, I just need a couple of days to sort myself out. And then everything goes back to normal."

  Liam laughed. "And you think no one's going to notice?"

  I shrugged. "They're going to be told I got jumped, which is accurate. They're not going to be told why or how or who the fuck is threatening me and my family."

  Alex pushed away from the wall. "They're threatening your family?"

  I bit my tongue. "None of your business."

  Liam just scowled. "You know that’s some bullshit, right? No man is a goddamn island, mate."

  I laughed. "Well, the way I figure it, I could give this whole island thing a shot."

  Liam couldn't see that he was different than I was. Did he really buy into all this family and brotherhood shit? It's not that I didn't see the advantages of having people in your corner, because I did. But the thing was, I knew what particular kind of hell was going to get rained on all of us if I didn't handle it on my own. And I knew my spot in the Elite was at risk. I wasn't an idiot. If I was at risk, anyone who'd try to help me would be at risk too. So I needed to cover their asses even if they didn't see it that way. "Trust me, I've got this completely under control."

  Alex frowned. "You will forgive us if we just don't believe you, right?"

  Ollie

  I could see my plan backfiring. Coming back to haunt me. But still, I needed to do something.

  I wasn't used to guilt. It was one of those emotions I just tucked away like everything else.

  I wasn't used to having any kind of emotions for someone who wasn't my sister, but seeing the look on Rian’s face, the pain I'd caused, I knew I had to do something. Except, was this the right something?

  There was something I hoped would make up for me being a total cunt, but it was going to require me going home. The place I hadn't stepped foot in for months. Even when Tessa came back from school, she stayed with me in my loft.

  The chances of running into my brother there were high, but I needed to go. Because she deserved an apology. Some kind of explanation. And since I couldn't explain what the hell was going on, I needed to at least say I was sorry in some way that mattered.

  My ribs were still
aching, and my head was throbbing like somebody had taken a hammer to it, so I had opted for a mini-cab to the house in Peckham. It was just at the corner of the estate. Technically not part of the estate, but so close my mates could have hopped the fence and been in my yard. Growing up, I’d loved this little row home. It hadn't been much, but it was big enough for me to have my own room. There had been this little cellar nook, and Max had taken that over. Tessa had her room, and my mum claimed the third.

  My father had never really been in the picture long enough for us to even miss him, so it'd just been us four. And then Mum was gone. The pain of that still made me wince. I missed her terribly. And I knew she'd be disappointed with how Max and I turned out. All she ever wanted was for us to get along and take care of our sister. At least we’d managed the second part.

  When the taxi let me out in the front of the house, I frowned at how overgrown the weeds were. I needed to get the caretaker to come around more often. Right now I just had him on a monthly basis. I knew he was due next week, but this was the house I had grown up in. I'd managed to buy it back from the council on a payment plan, even though no one lived there. Max had just been of the mind to let it go because he never wanted to think of the time we spent there. While we'd been poor, this little cottage had been our home, one full of love.

  I used my key and opened the door, and I was met with a musty smell and glanced around at the tiny entryway. I always thought it was bigger when I was a child. And I knew it was because I had grown. But somehow every time I stepped foot in here, I was always taken aback. Always a little confused at how I'd once thought this area much larger. For a long moment, I was paralyzed thinking about the past, what had been, what could have been. And I shook my head to clear the memories. I was there for a reason. I needed to get going and get gone. Instead of heading upstairs to my room, I headed down to the cellar area that Max had taken over.

  I knew exactly where I'd seen it. A beautiful pendant shaped like an infinity wrapped around a heart.

  Once I was down in the cellar, I realized it didn't smell as musty as the rest of the house, but it did smell of booze. Had he been here recently?