by Kasey Krane
I looked away, trying to avoid any interaction with anyone. I knew I would have a lot of socializing to do once I got home; so I had to gear up for it now by avoiding all social contact until then.
I made my way to the toilet and slammed the door shut behind me and locked it.
Ridiculously small. No matter how often I flew, it felt like I would never get used to how small these airplane toilets were. I stared at myself in the small mirror on the wall. Everything looked as if it was in place. I even practiced my fake smile. The one daddy would expect for me to have pasted on my face from the moment I landed in New York.
I was used to it by now, being told I had to be charming for everyone. Even the people daddy obviously didn’t like.
I was in a cream-colored dress that I’d bought last weekend in Champs-Élysées. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn it on a flight, I thought now, but at the same time; I didn’t care. Daddy threw all this money at me and usually, I didn’t know what to spend it on. I dabbed at the edges of my mouth. My firetruck red lipstick was completely smudge-free. None of my makeup needed any touching up but I did it anyway, just so I would have something to do.
A part of me just wanted to splash my face with water and remove all of it, but I knew Daddy wouldn’t be pleased if I showed up in New York looking like a regular girl. He expected me to stun everybody. Strangers at airports just as much as his business associates.
I had to grip the sides of the sink to stop myself from kicking the wall. I was in very high heels and besides, that reaction would not be productive at all.
Instead, I tried to take in deep breaths to calm myself. It was as if I was having a panic attack even though I was going home, to the old familiar. Back home to the only life I had ever known.
The truth was I didn’t want to go back. Could I stay here? Suspended in air?
“Madam, are you alright?” I heard a voice outside the door. It had to be the flight attendant, checking up on me because he’d been told I needed extra attention.
“Yes, fine, thank you!” I hissed back and applied another coat of lipstick.
For a while back there, when I first went to Paris, I thought maybe my life could be different. I was supposed to spend an entire semester there in complete freedom. Daddy had finally agreed to let me go on the condition that I attended a few events he wanted me to be present at.
This was supposed to be my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be free and independent.
Granted, he’d got me a huge apartment and my own maid and an assistant who practically followed me around everywhere—but I was never under the same level of scrutiny I had been back in New York.
Then I met Brett and thought everything was going to change. I met him at a party that Daddy had forced me to attend. He wanted me to represent him and weave my charm.
Brett was the only other person at the party who was remotely close to my age. He was nearly thirty but younger than everyone else. The only other American too.
It wasn’t the kind of instant attraction I had always dreamed about when I was a teenager full of fantasies in my head. Instead, it took a while for me to warm to him. The last thing I wanted now that I was in Paris was to be bound to another man.
But Brett was persistent. He visited me at the apartment often, showering me with gifts and compliments till I actually started believing him. He introduced me to people who were different from me; they partied harder, did drugs. Rich kids who knew exactly how to spend their rich parents’ money. I had never been around people like them before. Daddy had kept me sheltered, but here in Paris, I didn’t feel as if I had any of those responsibilities.
Within a few weeks of Brett coming into my life, I was sure this was it. This was going to be my ticket out of the life I had always despised. I spent less time at my classes, and more time with the people Brett hung out with. None of these people seemed to have jobs or anywhere they had to be in particular. They were all spending their parents’ money and I convinced myself I enjoyed their company.
Maybe I should have stopped to ask myself if I did have feelings for Brett or was it just for fun? But I had somehow convinced myself he was my soulmate, the one who was going to save me from my pathetic life in New York.
One night, I decided to pluck up the courage and ask him. He was giving me a ride back to my apartment from a party. We were making out in the car but I pulled away and asked him what his plan was. What was going to happen with us?
I don’t think I will ever forget the way he burst out laughing at that. His voice pierced my soul like an icicle going through me.
“Sabrina, my beautiful sweet girl, nothing is going to happen with us. Once we are done with each other, we can both go our separate ways. Isn’t that why you’re here in Paris? To have these experiences? You’ll thank me one day.”
Done with each other? I wanted to scream. I could feel the tears brimming my eyes. What about being my soulmate? But I made up my mind to not cry in front of him. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
He tried to lean in and kiss me again but I left. I just got out of the car and ran into the apartment building, taking two steps at a time. The girl who lived with me—my assistant who no doubt was reporting to my dad everything she could find out about me—followed me to my room. But I locked myself in there and didn’t come out.
The next day, Daddy called. I wouldn’t have answered if he hadn’t threatened to come down to Paris himself.
I had spent most of the night crying, not because I missed Brett, but because I had been so stupid. Stupid enough to convince myself it was a real relationship.
“Sabrina, sweetheart, I’m worried about you.”
“Why, Daddy, what has Lena told you?” I hissed into the phone.
“I think you need to come home, sweetheart, back where you belong. You’ve spent enough time in Paris by yourself, don’t you think?”
I was going to argue. I was going to scream and protest and tell him I never wanted to leave. I never wanted to go back to New York, but what was the alternative? Live here in Paris by myself? Like Brett and his friends?
If there was one thing my experience with Brett had taught me, it was that I wasn’t capable of making reliable judgment calls. I had no idea how to figure out a person accurately.
“Fine,” I had replied to Daddy. It stunned him as much as it stunned me. Neither of us was expecting me to give in that easily.
“Good. I’ll get your flight booked.”
That was the last time I spoke to him, four days ago. In some of my fantasies since then, I dreamt about the possibility of running away, changing my name, creating a new identity, but every time I thought about that, I was reminded of Brett and how stupid I had been.
I would never make it out in the real world by myself. I was dependent on my father for everything. For every decision. I would never be free.
Thankfully, he wasn’t at the airport to receive me. He sent one of his cars and a chauffeur to collect me. I was relieved, not knowing if I could fake being happy to see him. I had a lot on my mind and was filled with self-loathing and exhaustion. Besides, the jet lag was killing me.
I rode in the car all the way to our home in silence. I didn’t take off my sunglasses, didn’t bother checking the messages on my phone, didn’t even take a sip of water although my throat was dry.
Driving through the streets, I didn’t feel nostalgic or homely. I had been away for so many months.
We arrived at the house a while later; traffic was a bitch. The jet lag had now escalated to a thumping ache at the back of my head. I just wanted to be in my room, preferably asleep with all the shades pulled down, in complete silence and complete darkness.
One of our housekeepers, Cherie, along with the chauffeur, started carrying all my bags to the house. I smiled at Cherie. She was probably the only person I was genuinely happy to see. When I looked around the driveway and at the house, it seemed as if there were more people around. More guards.
I went th
rough. No eye contact. I attempted to head directly for my room.
“Sabrina!” In the hallway, I stopped in my tracks. I heard his voice. Jim. My father’s right-hand man.
I turned to look at him, and my eyes were burning already.
“I hope you had a good trip. Your father would like to see you in his office.”
“I have a headache. I need to change and lie down for a while. I’ll talk to him in a bit.”
“He wants to see you now,” Jim said, this time a little more firmly. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw this man smile. I knew there was no point in fighting this; Jim and my father would always have their way.
I caught Cherie’s eye. She was carrying my bags toward my room. I knew she sympathized, even though we had never spoken about it openly.
Without another word, I followed Jim to my father’s office. He knocked before opening the door and I stepped in.
“Sabrina, sweetheart!” Daddy shouted. I was about to force myself to smile till I noticed we weren’t alone. Daddy was behind his desk. Jim had stepped in with me, and standing near the desk was a man I had never seen before. The kind of man who shouldn’t have been in my father’s office.
Leather jacket, tattoos, thick metal rings on his big masculine fingers. He had dark hair that reached his shoulders. Very deep, very majestic brown eyes to match his sharp chiseled nose. He was a tall man. Muscular and strong. The kind of man I had never met in my life personally.
I had no idea what to think or what to say. I was in shock. I couldn’t think of one good reason why a man like him would be in the same room as Daddy.
I had to drag my gaze away from him and look questioningly around.
“What’s going on?” were the only words that I managed to say. I needed some answers. This didn’t feel right.
3
Spike
Jeffrey Wyndham sat behind his desk at a spot where the light in the window filtered right on top of his shiny bald spot. It created a limelight effect and I wanted to chuckle. The thing was, I still wasn’t taking this job seriously.
The only reason I was even here was because this was the first time in four days I was being allowed to leave Ghost’s cabin.
Cabin fever. That was literally what I had. Ghost, along with the rest of the MC, had imposed strict restrictions on me and I wasn’t even allowed to leave the room. Mercy brought in trays of food and drinks. She gave me some drugs which I refused to take and changed the dressing on my wounds.
I couldn’t deny it anymore—I trusted Mercy now. We had become friends. She was my only company and a part of me was glad she was there, taking care of me. I wanted to thank her, and I wanted to tell Ghost he had made the right choice in picking her as his woman. But that would be too sentimental so I said nothing.
Now, finally, I was sent here to the Mayor’s house to get my orders.
This was definitely not the kind of environment I was accustomed to working in. The man was rolling in riches, and he already had a lot of security around him. There was some discretion involved. It seemed as if they didn’t want me to be seen entering the premises. Clearly, they wanted the whole interaction to be kept a secret.
“I have been told you are one of the best men on the team,” Wyndham said, assessing me firmly from head to toe.
“I have been a patched-in member of the Iron Thunder MC for over six years now,” I replied. I wasn’t sure what the question was.
Wyndham grunted and exchanged glances with the other man in the room.
What I really wanted to ask was why a man like him wanted to hire a man like me, but I figured we would get to that point in time.
He cleared his throat and weaved his fingers together. It seemed as if he was trying to find the right words.
“My daughter. Sabrina. I fear her life is now in threat.” He said it blankly, trying to keep all his emotions out of it.
“What kind of threat?”
“Revenge. I had a…a business deal with some parties…that didn’t go exactly as planned. They want revenge. Everyone knows what Sabrina means to me. She is the apple of my eye. My precious princess. They know if they hurt her or take her from me, it would be the best way to get to me.” Wyndham met my eye and I could see he was trying his best not to erupt. He was filled with rage and frustration.
I had no idea what he might have been feeling. I couldn’t empathize. I had no clue what it felt like to care that much about someone.
“You have security, don’t you, Mr. Wyndham?” I asked.
He shook his head so vigorously that his jowls quivered.
“No. I can’t involve official security in this matter,” he replied, clearing his throat again. “It is a more…private matter. The business associates I was erm…dealing with, are not exactly government-approved. Anyway, the point is, I need this is to be kept undercover. Do you think you can do that?”
I met his eyes and glared at him.
“I can get the job done, yes,” I replied. “But I will need more details on security and the threats. More information on the people, your ex-business associates.”
Wyndham made a nodding motion toward the other man in the room.
“Yes, I’ll have Jim fill you in on all that stuff. There is another thing and it is a matter of importance.”
When I didn’t reply, he cleared his throat and continued.
“My daughter, Sabrina; she can’t know the real reason behind this. Do you understand? I don’t want her finding out why she needs you to protect her.”
“I will have to watch her twenty-four-seven. She will notice I’m around,” I reply. Wyndham took in a sharp breath at that.
“I will tell her something. Hopefully, she won’t ask too many questions. My daughter is obedient. She knows I only want what is best for her. I just want you to do your job and keep your mouth shut.”
Let’s just say I wasn’t a big fan of this Wyndham guy. I mean, I was never a political man and had no clue what this guy even looked like before I got here. He was supposed to be the mayor of this town, the man who ran this place, but it didn’t mean I had to treat him like a king.
But right now, he was paying me to get a job done. Ghost and the rest of the MC were expecting me to do the job right. A contract like this, executed successfully, could get us into the right places.
I nodded at Wyndham and he nodded too. It was our form of handshake.
There was an electrical buzz in the room.
The other guy, Jim, took the phone call.
“She’s here, Mr. Wyndham,” he said in a low monotone voice. Wyndham shifted in his chair and an absent-minded smile marked his face. He was thinking about his daughter.
I already had an image of her in my head. Spoilt brat.
I clenched my jaws, trying to decide what the best way would be to deal with her. Especially if I was to keep our interaction to a minimum.
Jim left the room and I guessed she was going to come in here anytime now. I did not look forward to being introduced to her. It meant that my job was going to start. I did not look forward to this job either.
Sabrina Wyndham was going to be a pain in the ass. I could feel it already.
When she walked into the room, I thought I was seeing things. I questioned whether I had accidentally popped some pills today or had Mercy ground some into my morning coffee? Because this chick looked as if she’d walked right off the cover of a glossy celebrity magazine.
I didn’t know girls like her existed in real life.
What she was wearing looked as if it cost as much as my apartment. She had long dark thick hair that was sleek and shiny, sitting neatly either side of her shoulders. She had dark eyes to match that hair. They were big and expressive. Like someone had drawn them on bigger.
She had a slender face with delicate plump lips that made her look as if she was always pouting. I couldn’t tell if she was wearing any makeup or not, and that was clearly the look she was going for. But everything about her was shiny and glossy. Incl
uding those high heels and the little purse hanging off the crook of her arm.
She glanced at me once and then looked away as if her eyes were burnt. I was expecting a reaction like this from her. She wasn’t going to be happy having me hanging around her all the time.
The room was now filled with the scent of her light summery perfume that shocked my senses. I had to clench my fists. I was feeling something at the base of my spine that I was afraid would travel to my cock. Sabrina Wyndham looked like no other chick I had ever laid eyes on.
“What is going on here?” she asked her father who was beaming at her now. Clearly, that was the effect she had on every man around her.
“Are you happy to be home, sweetheart?” He got up from his chair and I noticed his floppy belly for the first time. How did a man who looked like him produce a creature like her? The mysteries of biology would always be confusing to me.
While he went over to hug his daughter, Sabrina looked over his shoulders directly at me. I held her gaze, needing her to know she was not going to be able to play Little Miss Prissy Princess with me. No matter what kind of treatment she was used to.
“Yeah, I’m happy to be here, but what is going on?” she asked her father when they broke away. He touched her hair lightly.
“I feel as if you’ve grown up. There’s something different about you, sweetheart.”
Sabrina’s cheeks colored. She was embarrassed by his observations.
“Daddy, I feel as if there’s something you’re not telling me,” she said and this time, she looked over directly at me so there was no mistaking what she was talking about.
Wyndham turned to me, and he knew he would have to say something now.
“Oh yeah, this is…umm…his name is Spike?”
I said nothing, even though Wyndham was expecting a reaction from me. I just glared at her, never taking my eyes off her body.
“He is here as your new security personnel.”
Sabrina’s eyes narrowed.
