Page 11 of Broken

“What predicament would that be then?” I reply lazily, trying to hold my emotions back. Keeping my emotions and my intentions hidden is essential. The only way I can beat him is if I play my cards close to my chest.

“Ava, you are broke and I mean, you are in serious financial trouble. Not just with us but with the banks too. You are around two weeks away from the bank foreclosing on your house and then you and your father will be homeless. I also know that Manny made a bet this morning after we left with a rival firm, after my father cut him off from all of our bookies. He only managed to get one bet on before we found out and cut him off, but he now owes the West 49 crew £10,000. That, plus what he owes us, and what he owes the bank, is racking up fast, Ava. Like I said, we have been lenient because you’ve had your mother’s inheritance and your college fund to fall back on if you couldn’t make the monthly payments. But Manny spent some of it on the bet with the 49er’s. We thought he had already spent it, but he must have had some stashed away. He’s in some serious shit, Ava. Your house, your college fund, it is all gone and you have nothing. Do you understand that?” he asks, just like this was a business meeting and he was telling me the most mundane information. Instead, he has just brought down my whole world. I can see and feel it crumbling to small pieces and they are scattering all around me. I really have no idea what we are going to do. I cannot be homeless. And all my college tuition, how could Papa do this to me? He promised me that money was safe. I feel so dejected and I can feel the tears start to swell behind my eyes. I remember my plan, to keep my emotions guarded, to give him less ammunition, but I’m in so much pain, I just don’t know how to do that.

I feel as though I’m slowly sinking in a pit of despair at the thought of what my life has become and what it is going to be like. I fear the tears I am desperately trying to fight are going to fall anyway. Until I feel a very gentle touch on my knee. I realise that very subtly Ryder has moved his hand over and is currently resting it lightly against the red satin dress that is covering my leg. In that moment, all thoughts of tears vanish and I wish there wasn’t a piece of fabric separating us. I want to feel what his rough, calloused hands feel like against my soft skin. He slides his hand up slightly and gives my thigh a light squeeze. I realise what he’s doing, he’s giving me the strength I just lost. He’s showing me I can handle this. I have no idea how he’s capable of doing it by just one touch of my thigh and he reminds me of the feisty girl I have always been and still am.

“I understand. I'm guessing you have a suggestion to help me with this?” I ask with a lot more confidence than I truly have. But the constant heat from Ryder’s hand spreads around my body and I can feel it start to pool at my core. Now I’m wishing Grant would fuck off and Ryder would move his hand a little higher. I have to mentally give myself a slap to bring me out of the day dream. I have never had this kind of instant attraction to a guy before. Leave it to me to have a real crush for the first time on the bodyguard of a violent, psychopathic heir to a crime enterprise. I just don’t know if it is possible for him to do the things he does, and see the things he sees, without becoming a bad guy. He might look amazing, well actually, I don’t think there is a word to describe how fucking hot he is, but I know nothing about him or his personality. He could be as nutty and dangerous as his boss, except he’s more clever at hiding it. I really hope that's not the case, but let's be realistic right now. There is no way after everything I just learnt that I’m going to be capable of dating anyone, let alone him, if he even wanted to. Fuck, I never even considered that he is just being nice. Right now though, his strength is the only thing keeping me going as I wait with bated breath for his response.

“You have to listen to the full suggestion before you interrupt. A girl in your situation needs to hear all the facts before you get ahead of yourself and ruin what might be your only good option. Ok?” Grant asks with his shit eating grin again and this time, I openly look towards Ryder to see what he’s thinking. Instead of the neutral body guard expression I was expecting, he’s glaring at his boss. He’s staring in a way that looks like he’s throwing daggers with his eyes. To a casual observer looking in on this ‘meeting’, it looks like Ryder is on my side. Like I’m his boss and he would be willing to go against Grant if things go sideways, or I ask him to. But before I have a chance to dwell too long on his expression, or before Grant has a chance to see, Ryder changes his expression back to one of boredom. Except the squeeze of his hand on my thigh which reminds me he is giving me the strength I need. So, I nod my head, confirming that I agree to remain silent whilst he talks. Then I bite down on my bottom lip to grip it and stop myself from talking because I have a sneaky suspicion that I’m going to want to talk.

“You already know how much trouble you are in financially, so I won’t go over that again, but I will tell you that what I’m offering you will take away your family’s financial issues for life. Not only will I pay off your debts with us, the 49er’s, and the bank, I will also buy your house for you. This means your father will have somewhere to live for the rest of his life and it will cost him nothing. I will also spread the word to every crew in London that he is not to be given any betting status. He will be blacklisted from everywhere. If he needs help with his addiction, we can get him that too. Also, as an added extra bit of kindness to show you how nice I really am, I will return the entirety of your mother’s inheritance and I will give your father a weekly wage to help him get by. How does that sound?” he asks but I don’t say a word, I just stare at him. I promised not to talk until he was finished and I know that what he said is not the end. There is no way he is going to do all of that out of the goodness of his own fucking heart. But fuck, does this offer sound tempting. Not only will my papa finally get the help he needs, that I cannot provide for him, but all of our financial problems would be sorted for life. Now, I just need to know what it is that he’s not telling me. I’m sure it’s fine to break his rule if he asked me a direct question.

“What's the catch?” I ask suspiciously, searching Grant’s face for any clues as to what he might say. But the truth is, his face still looks the same as before. He has this fake looking smile that doesn’t lift the corners of his mouth properly, but it’s his eyes that tell the true story. When you look in Grant’s eyes, they are blank and expressionless. They are as dark as his soul. Now, I need to know what deal I’m going to be making with the Devil.

“What I ask for in return is an easy one, Ava. All I want is you. I want you as my wife.” The words come flowing out of Grant’s mouth like he is telling me about the weather. I feel as though the floor is dropping out from under me. It’s like the room is spinning and my brain is trying to process what he said in slow motion. My thoughts keep focussing on the word ‘wife’ like it’s a big red neon sign hanging above my head. Why the hell does he want me to be his wife? We are nothing alike. He needs a high society piece of arm candy who will agree with his every word and obey him. I am most certainly not that girl.

I am literally sitting stiff as a board and speechless. Out of all the things I was expecting Grant to say to me, that was not even on the list. I was sure he wanted to fuck me. I was convinced he was going to ask me to be his sex toy, someone to bang whenever he’s bored, and I have to admit, after hearing how much shit we are in, I was considering it. But this is something totally different. I believe in the sanctity of marriage. My parents were married for only eight years when my mum passed, but I truly believe they would still be together now. It’s not that my family is overly religious or anything like that, we just don’t really believe in divorce. Marriage is hard work, it isn’t easy, and it’s something that needs to be worked at every day. That’s what Mum always told me. She said that if you love someone enough then you fight to be with them, even during the times when you can’t stand them. I always remember her telling me that when I meet the man who is supposed to be my other half, I would know because my body would tell me. I would finally feel like I’m alive. What Grant is asking is if I’m prepared to give up the chance of finding that, of finding my other half, of marrying for love. I can’t give that up.

I realise I’m still sitting there with my mouth open slightly, just gawking at Grant like he speaks a foreign language. I finally snap myself out of the trance I had been in and realise that Ryder's grip on my leg has become a lot harder. His fingers are clutching in a way that will most likely leave a mark and I feel a little disappointment that it hasn’t happened through a more fun activity. I risk a glance over at Ryder’s face and he doesn’t look surprised by Grant’s announcement, just angry. I discreetly lay my hand over his to let him know I appreciate the anger he has about the situation. As my soft hand touches his larger rough one, I feel a tingle rush right up my arm and down my spine. I feel like just the touch of my skin against his is lighting up my whole body. That’s when I start to realise the irony of the situation. The guy opposite, who makes my skin crawl, is the one who is asking to marry me, yet the man next to me, who sets my body on fire, will never be able to act on it.

Freaked out by the sensations my body is feeling and the situation in general causes my stomach to churn. I pull my hand away from him, pushing his off my thigh at the same time. I lift my head up and smile sweetly at Grant, finally ready to give him the answer he has been waiting patiently for, while I was having my momentary freak out.

“No. I’m sorry, Grant. But marriage means something to me and my family. If I ever do get married, it will be for love.” I hold my head up high to make it clear my decision is final. We will just have to work out another way for me to pay back all of the bills. It will all work out. I hear Grant start to chuckle and I’m confused as to why he finds my rejection so amusing. I look over at him with a raised eyebrow, clearly indicating I want to know what it is about my statement he finds funny.

“Oh, Ava, life isn’t a Disney movie. Love is a luxury you cannot afford. Luckily for you, I’m a great catch,” says Grant with the biggest, most smug smile on his face. I literally can feel that I am having to hold myself back from smacking that dickhead right in the nose. I may be dirt fucking poor, but I sure as hell can still find love.

“Oh, Grant, that’s where you’re wrong. You don't need money to fall in love and I will wait as long as it takes for Mr. Right. If he never comes, then that’s fine because at least I tried. I refuse to settle for anything less and that is exactly what I would be doing with you. No matter how great a catch you are or how amazing your kind offer is, what you are asking me to give up is too great. Don’t you want to find a girl you love?” I ask in a pleading tone. I know it’s a long shot trying to pull on his heart strings because I'm not entirely sure that he has any, but I am running out of options.

“I don’t believe in all that love at first sight bullshit. My father says that when you meet a woman you are attracted to more than others, you should choose her, make her yours. That is when you mould her to fit with your ideal woman. After that, love will come. It’s something that you have to work at and put effort into, a bit like organising a business deal, but once it's finished, everyone gets to reap the rewards.” Listening to him speak, I actually start to feel sorry for him because it’s clear he genuinely believes what his father has told him. That there is no such thing as love until you make it for yourself. That is so warped and then to pass that onto his son, no wonder he’s a bit fucked up.

“Grant, hasn’t your father been married four times and had multiple different mistresses throughout his marriages?” I ask calmly, hoping this question alone will be enough for him to see that his father might not be the best person to give relationship advice. Grant acknowledges my question and confirms I’m correct but he looks more confused by my question than anything else.

“I don’t mean this disrespectfully, but I don’t think with a romantic history like I mentioned, that your father is the greatest person to be giving people relationship or love advice. You cannotmakesomeone love you. It happens naturally. You’re right that it might not happen instantly, love at first sight might not be a real thing, but it's something you build on together. You should never have to force the other person to change. Like with us, you might be attracted to me, but there is probably a lot that you would change. I would need to change how I look, how I behave, and who I am to fit in with the idea that you have in your head for a wife. Once I have done all that, I would be your wife, but I wouldn’t be me anymore. You would have stripped away everything that makes me who I am, leaving just the shell you found attractive in the first place. That’s not love,” I explain and I realise that my hands are flapping all over the place as I gesture and talk using my hands. It's a nervous habit I have been doing since I was a kid. When I am passionate about something, really want someone to hear what I have to say, or when I’m nervous about what the person will say, they all cause the hands to come out.

“I do see what you are saying, Ava, but I think you are wrong. I know you are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, that has been decided. Now, I just need to get you accustomed to being a woman who is married to a man of importance, status, and power. You will have a reputation to uphold that reflects on me, so you will have to learn to stick to it. Once I have shown you what this life can be like and all the things that me and my lifestyle can offer you, I think you will be very happy here. If other women are anything to go by, you will be in love with me after our first night together,” he replies with that cocky smirk again. My brain feels like it is about to explode and there is a ringing in my ears. He sounds as though the decision has been made. He can fuck right off if he thinks I am just going to fall in line and do as I am told. I need to wipe that cocky smirk off his face once and for all.

“Look, all of this is irrelevant because I have said no. I don’t want to marry you, I don’t want to date you, and I definitely do not want to stay in this house any longer,” I shout, releasing the anger that has been building since he said he wanted to marry me. Ryder tries to calm me down by placing his hand on my thigh again, but I know what he is doing now. He is obviously trying to stop me from causing too much trouble for his boss. I don’t need his false sympathy and so I shove his hand away and try to ignore the look of pain that flashes across his face.

“Maybe I didn’t put my proposal across as well as I could have since you clearly think you have a choice.” Grant sneers at me as he speaks and there is a flicker in his eye that tells me he has more to say. As if what he has already said didn’t pull my world to pieces, he thinks he has another ace up his sleeve. But he is right because I’m not sure if I can take any more heartbreak.

“What are you talking about? Look, I know we owe you a lot of money and I am prepared to speak with your father personally about that, to come up with some form of repayment plan. I will work as many jobs as I have to in order to make the payments. I know you don’t think I can do it, but I’m determined. I will find the money somehow, but I can’t trade my hand in marriage for my papa’s debt. It’s just too high a price.” I beg with Grant and I know he can hear the desperation and the pleading in my voice. The more I beg, the more I can see his eyes light up and a little smile creep up his lips. This guy is getting off on watching me humiliate myself. I would bet any amount of money, if I actually had some, that his cock is straining in his pants as we speak. He can fuck off if he thinks I’m giving him exactly what his sick brain craves. Time for less begging and more fighting.

“Ava, as much as I’m sure that we could arrange some kind of payment plan for you, it most certainly will not be achievable. But the money you owe me is not what I was referring to. The 49’s have access to the same financial information that we have. They know just how broke you are and that you have no prospect of paying them back. Problem is, they aren’t as forgiving as us. There's a reason they are known as the most brutal street gang in London. If they know you can’t pay, they will make an example out of you. First is the beating that will get progressively more brutal, then they cut off one of your fingers. It's quite clever really, it's their signature move to let people know you have pissed off their crew and if it happens again, you are marked for death. When the finger has been removed, they make you hold up one hand to show you have 4 fingers, then add in the other and you have 9. Permanently maimed by the West 49er’s and marked for death. It’s creative, that's for sure. But it’s all for show. They make you think they give you another chance. Allow you to wander around with their mark to let people see how serious they are and not to be messed with, then when you least expect it, they will kill you. That is a mark for death, a way of placing a hit. Your papa has made their list and was scheduled to be marked tonight. I have paid for the hit to be held off temporarily, so he is safe for now, but that will only last so long. They made it perfectly clear that if full payment is not made within the next couple of days, then he will be marked and executed.” I can't help the gasp that comes out of my mouth. Not only does someone want to torture my papa, they want to kill him. My gut begins to churn violently, and I can feel the contents of my stomach trying to work their way up my throat. Controlling my breathing, feeling each breath slowly move inside and then back out, is the only way I can stop myself from vomiting all over the table. A wave of sadness passes over me and I wonder how my poor sweet papa got involved with these people and why anyone would want to kill him. My heart sinks as the realisation hits me, he’s the only family that I have left.

My mind is whirling and I clutch my stomach in pain. Blood is pumping so quickly through my body, thanks to my elevated heart rate, I can feel the whooshing as it passes through my head. The noise fills my ears and drowns out the room as I try my best not to hyperventilate. I feel like the room is spinning, but I am sitting still.

Grant’s words echo and repeat through my numb mind as I try to consider every possible option, but that's the problem. There are no options. I really don't have a choice here. If I want Papa to live, I have to sacrifice my happiness. I will never find love and will have to live under the thumb of the monster sitting before me. I will have to bend to his every whim and become the perfect wife he expects. But he is in for a shock because I will only agree to this kicking and screaming. I will not bend, I will not change, I willnotbecome his perfect little wife. He can make me say yes to marriage, but he can’t make me change who I am. That's when I decide I need to try pushing my luck, just a little, to see how flexible he can be, although I suspect I already know the answer.

“So, I really do have no choice but to marry you. That’s what you are saying? But even if I do agree to it, why do I have to change who I am to become this arm candy, this blow up doll for you to parade around? If you want to marry me, surely it is the real me that you want by your side. I have to give up so much already to agree to do this, but you are asking me to give up who I am, to become a completely different person and I don't know if I can do that,” I politely explain, very aware of how volatile he can be and not wanting to irritate him any further.

“Ava, princess, don't see it as you giving anything up, because you will never be without. I will take care of you and give you everything you could ever need. I will have the real you by my side, but you have yet to discover who that is. Don’t you see, Ava, you have been raised in poverty, you don't really know how to live amongst people that matter. That is what you will learn when you are with me. You will become the Ava you were meant to be if you weren’t born into nothing.” Grant is talking as calmly as I have ever heard him and I really don’t think he has any idea how many discriminatory and derogatory comments he made in one statement just then. Talking about my childhood and how I was raised infuriates me. I was raised by two parents in a loving home and I had an amazing childhood. Even after Mum passed, Papa still did everything he could to remain close to me and show me that I was loved. It didn’t require any money, but my favourite thing was to go to the park with him and have him pitch to me so I could practice my baseball swing. Papa would have loved a boy who could play sports with him, but sadly, because of Mum’s illness, another baby was not in the cards for them. Luckily for Papa, he got a girl who has more interest in playing sports than she does talking about shoes and wearing make-up. I mean, I’m still a girl, so of course I can appreciate all that stuff. But I also love to throw my Converse on and hit the batting cages. I have so many happy memories of childhood that it breaks my heart hearing Grant dismiss those just because of where I grew up. I feel my blood start to boil and red flushes my cheeks as rage takes over my body.

“Fuck you! I was not raised in nothing. I was raised in a loving home with parents who loved and cared for me. We may not have had a lot of money, but that didn’t matter. I was still raised right and you can fuck off if you think you are going to say any different,” I shout, feeling the anger bubbling up under my skin. I can see Grant is getting ready to argue back because his cheeks have started to flare red. Before he gets a chance to say anything, I hear simultaneous loud pings coming from both Grant and Ryder. They both reach into their pockets to pull out their mobile phones. Grant flicks it open and smiles, whereas Ryder releases a small groan. I wonder what that is all about.

“Right, princess, we are going to have to pick this up tomorrow. I will call someone to show you to your room for the evening. You will have access to anything on that floor, but that is it. We need to finalise our arrangement before I allow you full access. I have… erm… work that I need to attend to now. You will meet me in the conservatory at nine sharp in the morning for breakfast. Someone will arrive five minutes before to escort you as you will not know the way. Then we will need to prepare ourselves because my father has informed us that he will be joining us for afternoon tea to discuss our engagement.” Grant talks in his usual posh monotonous voice and it’s as though my previous outburst didn’t happen at all. Not only does it appear that I am engaged, but he also seems to have given me the most annoying fucking nickname in the whole world. If he calls me princess one more time, I will have to stab him, just fair warning.

I can feel all the annoyance I have towards Grant, for blatantly ignoring me, bubbling up inside and I’m getting more angry. Grant, however, is clearly finished with the conversation. In his mind, he’s dismissed me and now is rising, ready to leave. I’m just about to lose my shit with him when Ryder takes hold of my arm to get me to stand up, in doing so, his touch seems to pull me out of the red mist that had ensnared me.

“Ava, go and wait outside that door for one moment, please,” Ryder says, pointing at the opposite door to the one Grant is heading for. He has a stern look on his face, but his glistening blue eyes are what captures my attention because I can see he is pleading with me to do as he asks. I feel all the tension and anger in my body melt away as I look into his sea coloured orbs. I give him a small half smile and a nod as I make my way towards the door. I don’t look back at Grant as I leave.

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