Part 2 - ARDEN'S CONQUEST

ARDEN

"Are you going to send me to jail?" After what I thought was the longest time searching for this woman to come to an end would satisfy me to hear the fear in her voice and seeing the ghost of worries etched on her face was indeed an absolute triumph.

"It depends," I uttered. Her lips thinned. I studied her face. She was antsy. How couldn't she be? Being alone with the man she thought she had avoided for good was standing in front of her, and might just do what she had just cited — send her to jail.

"On what?"

"Whether you still have it."

"I don't have it anymore. I've already spent it." The panic in her eyes was increasingly difficult to hide. "Can we not talk about it here? Please...it's...it's late, and I don't want to stress my mother about it, so if you please, don't mention it while you're here. We can go somewhere to talk about it...we can talk tomorrow." She was fidgeting more than usual.

"Why did you do it?" I goaded on.

"Now is not the time to talk about it." She lamented. "Please. My mother's here and my brother's coming home. This thing you want from me, they don't know it, so please," the plea in her voice was enough for me to give her an ounce of my consideration. From the looks of it, she was going to burst into tears if I went on.

"Where will I sleep?"

She sighed, "Thank you." And clasped her hand together, seemingly relieved. "I will bring you a blanket and a pillow. Do you need a shower first? You can use the-"

"I've showered before I went here,"

"Oh, right?.."

An awkward silence surrounded us. She would smack her lips together, fist her hands, pull the hem of her shirts, or look at the door behind me. I could feel how tense she was becoming, and I felt bad for making her feel that way. Dammit! Where did that come from? I was here to claim what was mine.

"You know you can go to your room and rest, right? I won't steal anything. You'll find me here the next morning." I said, instantly painting her cheeks red and making her mouth churn sourly. Guilt and embarrassment flooded her face. I felt like smacking my head. Way to give her an ounce of consideration.

"I'm really sorry," she whispered.

I rustled a sigh, seeing the tears in her eyes. Even if I didn't want to admit it, her tears bothered me. The remorse in her voice carried her sincere apology as well. "You're right. It's late. We'll talk tomorrow." She sniffled and was about to say something when the door opened. His brother looked at us with a frown on his forehead.

"Who is he?" Adam asked. I read he was two years younger than Addison, but he sure acted like he was more years older than her; the way his shoulders squared intimidatingly, the scowl on his face, and the thin line of his lips, he looked stoic.

"This is Arden, a friend. He's staying overnight. He'll crash on the sofa." She cleared her throat. "My brother, Adam."

I looked at him straight in the eye as I wasn't having any of his grim looks. Did this kid try to scare me with his glare? Funny kid. "Kinda late, but I'm pleased to meet you," I muttered.

"Addison brought many surprises to this home. It wouldn't surprise me if the next day she would sport a bump," Addison sharply gasped at his brother's presumptuous statement. My polite response was forgotten.

"Adam! Why are you saying something like that?" her chest rose and fell in an attempt to hold her emotions. This time, she was angry. "You're embarrassing me."

"Oh, I mean to."

"Your sister's not pregnant. I can tell." Of course, she wasn't pregnant. Nothing happened that night. But what about the other men? My eyes trailed to her stomach. Despite the loose grey shirt, she wasn't hiding a bump. And just the thought that someone could have gotten her pregnant made me want to wring someone's neck.

"Can we talk privately?" She was walking to him, but he was already striding past her to his room.

"I'm tired."

"Adam," her voice wobbled.

"Not tonight,"

Her shoulders drooped, followed by sniffles.

"Do you need anything?" She asked me, head hanging low.

"I'll be fine here," she was nodding her head as she turned around, and was almost running to her room.

I had expected a heated confrontation with that woman, not a dramatic argument with her brother. The thing was, it was none of my business, but seeing her look so sad brought a strange pang in my chest. Damn. I was becoming soft. This was expected, being around women, especially my little sister, Carrie, whom I thought I would never see nor touch again; she grew fiery but delicate. Fate had its twisted way of bringing pieces together, and Asher's life was forever changed. The latter was so in love I swore he'd crawl on his knees if Carrie ordered him to. Having said that, I was happy for them.

*

Inside the car, I was observing the house. There was no yelling or audible conversations that could be heard from where I was, but I was hoping that she would soon come out of that house. At exactly four A.M I had vacated the sofa and went out, had breakfast, and took a shower from an accommodation I paid only for that purpose. Sleeping appeared to be a difficult task in a new place, knowing that the person you have been looking for was in the same house, yet I couldn't do anything. At seven in the morning, I was waiting.

Contemplating whether to go inside or just wait, I did the latter. And when she finally appeared, her eyes cast on my car, glaring. I smirked. She would now glare, however last night, she would have cried in one more poking.

She settled herself in the passenger seat with a heavy maneuver, putting on her seatbelt with small grunts of disapproval and exasperation and a pout on her lips. I inwardly smiled. I found her childishness amusing.

"My mother was looking for you, believing I kicked you out of the house last night. You decided to show up out of nowhere and we politely accepted you in and offered you the sofa. You could have at least waited until we were up and bid goodbye."

"You can't blame me. I have a good schoolmistress."

Her forehead creased before she avoided my eyes and focused them on the road as I maneuvered the car away from the house. She knew very well what I meant to say when I said that. Didn't I accept her that night, offered her good pay, but I woke up and she was gone?

"Have you eaten?" I asked.

"Yes. Where are we going?"

"To talk,"

"The place. Where are you taking me?"

I gave her a sideways look. She was rigid in her seat, hands clutching the strap of the belt. "Afraid, aren't we?"

"Would I be? I got into your car, didn't I?"

"Your heartbeat is racing, you're clutching the belt as if your life depends on it, you can't stop shaking your legs, and now and then, you turn your eyes to the side, memorizing the road we're going, now tell me if you're not afraid, Addie?"

She shakily breathed, controlling her legs from shaking, and composing herself. She was quick to get herself together, and I admired her for that.

It was moments of silence later when I turned the engine off. I puffed a breath of exasperation, parking the car on the side of the road. The place was quiet, where there wouldn't be a distraction. The vast greenery before us was calming to the eyes. This place was a good spot.

Yet I tried to act exasperated and daunting now that I had her alone for confrontation.

I took a sigh. "Where's my money, Addison?"