by Messer Stone
My stomach drops with dread as I realize this story can’t possibly have a happy ending.
“She ended up delivering the baby about eight weeks early. A little girl. Still born.”
I have to swallow past a lump in my throat before I can speak. “Did they name her?”
“Jessica,” he tells me in a hoarse voice. “After my dad had his stroke, I went to his office to get something. I’d never been in his desk before. He’s always been private. Protective of his personal space. Anyway, I opened the top drawer and I found this picture in a silver picture frame. It was a tiny baby, wrapped up in a pink blanket. I realized that it was her. My baby sister. That was the only time I ever saw her. “
“That’s such a terrible loss. I bet it was hard on all of you.”
“I wouldn’t know. We had to pretend like it never happened. Dad refused to talk about it, and he yelled whenever we tried to ask questions or bring it up.”
“What about your Mom?”
“She just stopped living for a while. She put on a good show for my dad whenever he was around, which wasn’t much in those days. But the rest of the time she just stayed in her room.
I was supposed to go away to camp that summer but a few weeks before I was supposed to leave, I broke my arm. Lorelai went without me and I spent a lot of time at home. Alone. I realized that something was wrong with my mom and I tried to tell my dad but he didn’t want to hear it. One day I was just so bored and lonely. I couldn’t stand being in that house anymore. It was like you could feel the sadness in the walls. So I went out. Just for a few hours to see a friend.”
Tears prick at the corner of my eyes as a tidal wave of sympathy crashes into me. Apparently Parker and I have more in common than we thought. I still remember what it felt like to sit there, crying outside of Dad’s door, begging him to come back to us.
He takes a deep shuddering breath before he continues. “When I came back, I went to Mom’s room to check on her. She was in her bed, asleep. For some reason, I just knew something was wrong. I tried to wake her, but couldn’t. I shook her, I called her name. That’s when I saw the empty bottle of pills.”
My breath catches in my throat as my hands tighten on his.
“I realized she wasn’t breathing, called 911. The operator tried to tell me how to do CPR but I was shaking so bad… And with my arm I…. I couldn’t…. “ He closes his eyes, shakes his head as if he can shake the memory away. “Later, the doctor said it came down to minutes. If I had come home even five minutes later… if I had waited to go and check on her—”
“But you didn’t!” I surge into his lap, straddling him, putting my hands on his chest. “You found her in time. She’s alive and well today, because of you.”
He watches me for a long minute, staring into my eyes as he cups one of my cheeks with his hand.
“I took a psychology class back in college,” he says and I sit back a bit, unsure where he’s going with this. “I remember the professor told us a story about a man who was beaten to death in broad daylight. It was on a public street and a dozen people just stood there and watched. Nobody bothered to call 911, because they just assumed that someone else would.”
I stare at him, wondering what that has to do with anything.
“That summer, there were countless people who saw what was going on with my mom. My dad, our friends, the staff. They knew she was sick, that she was getting worse, but they didn’t do anything. They just assumed someone else would step in.” He pulls me in until our foreheads are pressed together. “I know that I can’t save everyone. But I don’t know how to live with myself without at least giving it my best try.”
My throat is thick with emotion, overcome with love for this complicated, beautifully golden man. Pulling back a little, he stares up into my face.
“God. You’re so beautiful.”
My heart pounds wildly in my chest. I have to tell him about DeMarco. I have to find a way to tell him and keep him safe.
“Parker. I need to— oh!” I gasp as he stands with me in his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist as he tears a path for the bedroom.
He drops me onto the bed and tears at my clothes with a hunger I’ve yet to see from him. He’s a little wild and a lot desperate, looking like a man on the edge of self-control.
“There are some…” I lose my train of thought as he tears my shirt off. The bra comes next, followed by my leggings and panties. Within seconds, I’m totally naked and spread out in front of him.
“I need to tell you things too.”
He manages to tug off his sweater before crawling on top of me. "Later. I’m done talking. For now.”
Soft kisses trail up one thigh and then the other, before his mouth settles between my legs. And just like that, my brain is mush. He makes me come hard and fast the first time, and then slower and sweeter the second time, before kissing up the length of my body.
“I need to be inside you,” he says, pressing his lips to mine.
“Yes,” I gasp, needy and desperate.
Suddenly, he freezes. “Shit.” His eyes meet mine in horror. “I don’t have a condom.”
Pushing him up and off me, I bound off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”
Running naked into Elena’s bathroom, I remind myself to kiss her later when I find a box of condoms under the sink. Triumphantly, I return to Parker, waiving the little square foil packet in my hand.
“Thank Christ.” He stands to remove his jeans and boxers. Taking the condom from me, he tears it open as he sits down on the bed and slides it down his hard cock. I’m practically shaking with need when he pulls me on top of him, positioning me so that I’m straddling his hips.
“You want to try it this way, sweet girl?” he asks as he teases me with the head of his cock.
I nod eagerly before sinking down onto him with a guttural groan.
“Go slow,” he says through his teeth.
Hands braced on his chest, I work myself over him, sliding up and down his length, losing myself to the feeling of him inside me. I feel so full of him, impaled by him. Like I’ll die if I move, and I’ll die if I stay still.
My breathing goes ragged as I ride him harder, chasing the building storm inside me.
“Fuck,” he growls, sitting up, pressing his face against mine as he wraps his arms around me, locking me against him as he pistons up and into me.
“Oh. God,” I sob into his mouth, overcome. “Oh my god.”
“That’s it, come on,” he urges, looking as desperate as I feel.
My orgasm hits me like a bolt of lightning, shattering my mind, frying my nerves into dust. I can do little but cling to him, a shuddering gasping mess as he chases his own release. Flipping us over so that I’m on my back, he drives into me like an animal, growling with his teeth clamped down on my shoulder.
After it’s over, neither of us can bring ourselves to move. I fall asleep with him still inside me, drifting off into the bliss of dreamless oblivion.
****
The next morning, I roll over in bed, instinctively searching for Parker. Instead, I find a note waiting for me on his pillow. Sitting up, I blearily blink down at the words written in his hasty scrawl. As I read, a goofy smile spreads across my face.
Mercy,
You looked so perfect and peaceful as you slept. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. And I figured I should be gone before Jason and Sophie get up.
Don’t come into the office today. I have some things I need to deal with. In the meantime, enjoy your day off. Curl up on the couch and read a good book. Oh, and be sure to think about me. God knows I won’t stop thinking of you.
Love,
Parker
With a surge, I remember that I never got a chance to tell him about DeMarco. My forty-eight-hour deadline draws closer with every tick of the clock, but I’m no closer to finding a solution I can live with.
Upstairs, I tuck the note into a dresser drawer for safekeeping before running through the shower. Once
I’m dressed I head back down to the kitchen to whip up a few bowls of oatmeal. I manage to feed both Jason and Sophie and get them both back to school in record time.
Everything in my life suddenly seems to be looking up. Or at least it would seem that way, if my bed-ridden father didn’t currently owe $135,000 dollars to one of New York’s most famous mob bosses.
I don’t want to tell Parker, especially after last night. I don’t want to be just another hopeless soul that he has to swoop in and save. And I really, really don’t want to get him tangled up in the mob. It would be so much better if he could just loan me the money. I could take it to DeMarco and it would be done. But I know that it won’t be that simple. Knowing Parker, he’ll insist on dealing with DeMarco directly. He’d likely chew off his own arm before letting me run off to deal with a mob boss on my own.
Of course, I could always lie to him. I could tell him that I need the money for something else. Like an unexpected medical expense for dad, or back taxes. It would kill me to be dishonest with him like that, especially after how vulnerable he was with me last night. But at this point, it seems like the only way to keep everyone I love safe.
I’m still contemplating this when the doorbell rings. Frowning, I look at my watch. It’s early afternoon, just after one pm. When I go to open the door, my heart nearly stops.
“Ms. Chase.” Silas Callahan nods his head at me, looking like a giant on my tiny, dingy front porch. “May I come in?”
Stunned I nod wordlessly, opening the door a bit wider.
“I’ll get straight to the point.” He takes off his aviator sunglasses, looking down at me like I’m the scum of the earth. “We both know you’re only after one thing. So let’s make things simple. Name your price.”
It takes me a second to actually process the words. “Excuse me?”
“It's a simple quid pro quo. You’re a good catholic girl, so I’m sure you know your Latin. And I’m sure you understand the concept of a mutually beneficial exchange. You want money. I want you to stay away from my son.” He speaks slowly, but harshly, every word bitten out with rough-edged contempt. “So I’ll ask you again. Name your price.”
The hatred in this man’s eyes shocks me. How could he hate me? He doesn’t even know me! I don’t think I’ve ever felt smaller than I do right now. I’m so very aware of who he is, of who I am. He just stands there, looming over me like an angry Zeus, preparing to strike me down with a bolt of lightning unless I bend to his will.
Shaking, heart pounding, I struggle to form words. “C-can you please leave, I—”
“Okay, let me spell this out for you.” He steps closer to me, pushing me back until I’m cowering against a wall. “With one phone call, I could have you arrested for prostitution. But I’m not going to do that, because you’re young and as much as you might deserve it, I don’t want to ruin your life. But I will if you continue to manipulate my boy.”
It’s like Satan himself has come to deliver my worst nightmare. If I go to jail, Jason and Sophie will be totally alone. They’ll have no one. For a moment, I think I might throw up.
“P-please—” I sob. “Please don’t.”
The terror in my voice isn’t the kind that can be faked. He knows it and he softens, but only fractionally. “I’m not a monster. And I don’t want to involve the authorities. And I don’t have to give you any money, but I’m going to. In exchange for my kindness, you will agree to completely cease any contact with my son.”
A man I don’t know steps through the still open front door, and hands Silas a checkbook and a ballpoint pen.
“So, let’s try this again Ms. Chase.” He flips open the checkbook, clicks the pen. “Name your price.”
CHAPTER 27
Parker
I’m waiting just outside the private elevator bank in my penthouse when the doors slide open. Lonny Shore steps out to greet me, his chauffeur's cap clasped in his weathered hands.
“You asked for me, sir?”
Nodding, I tear my attention away from my cell phone and slip it back into my pocket. My fingers itch to text Mercy, to check on her and make sure that she’s okay. But I can’t. Not yet. I have to focus. I only have so much time to make this happen. A little window of opportunity. If I do this right, I’ll get the chance to love Mercy the way she deserves to be loved.
“Yes. I need you to do something for me.”
He nods. “Of course.”
“I need you to head out to Long Island. Keep an eye on Mercy, for me.”
His hard face furrows in a concerned frown. “Are you worried for her safety, sir?”
“No. Nothing like that.” Really it’s nothing more than an anxiety churning deep in my chest. This is such an uncertain time and if I’m going to stay focused, I need to know Mercy is okay. “I just need you to watch the house. Let me know if anyone stops by. And if she leaves, make sure to follow her. At a distance, of course.”
“Right. I’m on it.”
After he leaves, I return to my home office. Lorelai is sitting at the desk, surrounded by a team of lawyers.
“How’s it going?” I ask, eyeing the document that my sister is currently looking over. The document that will give me something I’ve needed for a while now, but haven’t demanded. Until now.
One of the head lawyers gives me a reassuring smile. “Everything’s in order, Mr. Callahan. We’re about finished.”
I turn my focus to Lorelai as she signs the bottom of one page, before flipping to the next.
She glances up at me. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.”
A few more signatures and it’s done. Fifty percent of my sister’s shares in the Callahan group now belong to me. Just enough to give me controlling interest.
“Thanks Lor. I owe you one.” I kiss her on the cheek.
She smirks at me. “You had my back with Bolton’s. This is the least I could do.”
Miles steps into the room, stepping aside as the lawyers begin to trickle out. “Sir. Your father is on his way up.”
A smile curves at my lips. Right on time.
“Let the games begin,” Lorelai mutters as she slips out. “Call me when the dust settles.”
She leaves and for a few, precious moments, I am completely alone. I stand behind my desk in silence, thinking about what I’ve done. What I’m about to do. I wait for the doubt. The regret. The uncertainty. But it never comes. If anything, my resolve only strengthens.
Truth is I should have done this a long time ago. My father has controlled me for much too long. He uses our differences to make me doubt myself. He came from nothing and built an empire. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and inherited the fruits of his triumph. But that doesn't mean I don’t know what it means to work hard. On the contrary, for as long as I can remember I’ve worked my ass off to deserve what I have.
Yes, this was his company. But it’s mine now. I deserve the chance to run it without him constantly manipulating me. And I deserve to live my life how I want to live it. I’ve got plenty of my own ghosts, and I’m sick of being haunted by his.
And now, thanks to Mercy, I’m finally ready to do something about it.
As if on cue, the door opens and he strides in, his dark head bent, his bushy brow furrowed in his trademark scowl.
“Hi, Dad.” I keep my voice empty of emotion. “What a surprise.”
His hard gaze settles on me. “Son. You’re looking well.”
“Thank you. I’m feeling well.”
His lip turns up just barely in something like a smirk. “I’m sure you are.”
Rolling my shoulders, I steel myself for battle. “Let’s cut to the chase. I know why you’re here.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I tilt my head to one side. “And I know you were the one who arranged for Blair to wait for me at home last night. The lingerie was a nice touch by the way.”
His face remains blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
&nbs
p; “Of course you don’t. Anyway, considering what happened when Mercy showed up, I’m sure Blair figured on there’s something going on between us. She turned right around and told you. And now you’re here, so let’s do it. Let’s have it out.”
“Let’s have it out?” He looks amused. “What? Are we going to have a fist fight over your reckless infatuation with that stupid girl?”
“That stupid girl is the woman that I’m in love with! I get that the circumstances aren’t ideal—”
He blows up at me, his face red with fury. “My god boy, do you ever learn?”
“I do,” I say, thinking about the papers that Lorelai signed just minutes ago in this very room. “Sometimes it takes me a while, but I do learn.”
“You’re too comfortable,” he spits bitterly. “You’ve always been too comfortable. Maybe if you knew what it means to struggle like I did—”
“Yes, yes I know Dad,” I say, rolling my eyes in exasperation. “My whole life, you’ve taunted me with the Dickensian hellscape that was your childhood. Like I should be ashamed that I wasn’t forced to struggle. Like I should be ashamed for being born into the very privilege that you provided.”
“I was trying to protect you!” he roars. “You don’t know what it means to fight for everything you have! Maybe if you did, you’d use your brain everyone once in a while instead of letting your dick call the shots.”
“I’d prefer to leave my dick out of this,” I say, dryly.
“She’s nineteen, Parker! And an intern! What were you thinking?” He huffs, running a hand through his hair. “Luckily, I was able to take care of this mess before it got out of hand, but next time—”
“Woah!” I close the distance between us and get in his face. “What do you mean you took care of it?”
He waves his hand dismissively. “The girl. I got rid of her. But what—”
