The Reluctant Submissive: Courage to Change [The Men of Treasure Cove 14] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Rebecca Joyce

  “Like hell it is,” Tristan replied furiously, rounding on the two women across the table. “You people are fucking nuts, you know that? Your town is stagnat. I am offering this town a way to prosper and you are turning your backs on my offer because I use diesel to operate my drilling equipment. Do you know that diesel is a natural resource, milled by the very earth you want to protect?”

  “Technically, it’s not. However, you are right about one thing, Mr. Summerfield, we are concerned with the pollutants your drilling machines pump out into the atmosphere from using said resources. Though the diesel may have at one time been nature made, it stopped being that when man engineered it into diesel.”

  “How the fuck are you supposed to use diesel if not to burn it? And it is a natural fuel.”

  “No, it’s not. Diesel is a chemically altered fuel from petroleum. Petroleum is a natural yellow-to-black liquid found in geologic formations beneath the Earth’s surface. As a fossil fuel, petroleum is formed in large quantities of dead organisms, usually zooplankton and algae, which are buried underneath sedimentary rock and subjected to intense heat and pressure. What you use to operate you drilling machines is refined and separated, by distillation, into a large numbers of consumer products, from gasoline to kerosene to asphalt and chemical reagents used to make plastics and pharmaceuticals, even diesel. What you use is a manmade product that has had a negative impact on Earth’s biosphere, damaging ecosystems through events such as oil spills. Diesel releases a range of pollutants into the air including ground-level ozone and sulfur dioxide from sulfur impurities in fossil fuels. Burning diesel in particular releases carbon dioxide, a powerful greenhouse gas which is the main cause of manmade global warming,” the blonde woman replied. Tristan stood, shocked. How the fuck did she know so much about fossil fuels?

  “She’s right,” Capri added. “When burned, petroleum releases carbon dioxide, a greenhouse gas which contaminates our air. It doesn’t matter how refined your diesel is, Mr. Summerfield, you are participating in the destruction of our earth. The very earth this town and its residents have spent our lifetime to protect. I am sorry, but I vote no to your offer.”

  “How the fuck do you know so much about petroleum? You’re nothing but a small-time shop owner.”

  Capri smiled sweetly, Aries cringed next to him, and for some reason, Tristan felt that he’d just stepped over some invisible proverbial line. If ever there was a moment he knew he was about to get his ass chewed, this was it.

  Bracing himself, he listened as the redhead smiled and said, “You’re right, I am nothing more than a small-time shop owner. I have lived my entire life in Celestial, Mr. Summerfield, and in that time, I have learned that bullying isn’t nice, nor is coming into someone’s town and berating its residents. I chose to stay in this simple town and live as the cosmos intended, free from industry and the monopolizing government you support. You say you want a cleaner environment, then do something about it. There have been many advances in the drilling industry since the late nineteen-nineties. Solar power for one is a big one. So is wind power. Yet, you still use diesel. The very crude oil that pollutes the air damages the soil and destroys the ecosystem. You want to know how I know so much about this stuff, wel,l let me enlighten you, asshole, I may be a simple shop owner, but I am also a graduate from MIT with a degree in biomechanical engineering. I have traveled the fucking world helping and teaching other countries to produce and mill such natural resources that won’t hurt their environment. We only have one earth, Mr. Summerfield, and men like you are determined to destroy it just for a few bucks in your back pocket. I may not practice my chosen field, but you better be damn sure I know what the fuck I am talking about. Now, get your shit and get the fuck out of my town. You cannot drill here!”

  “Though I’m not as vocal as my fellow council member,” the blonde added, “I agree with her. My vote is no.”

  Tristan stood, stunned. He really didn’t know what to say, nor could he form a coherent word as the two women silently got up and left the conference room. But there was one thing he could do as he rounded on the man who was supposed to make this easier on him.

  “This is a major cluster fuck!” Tristan ranted furiously. “I knew I should have never sent you here. You’re one of them! You poisoned their minds before I even had the chance to talk some sense into them. You’re fired!”

  “Don’t bother, I quit,” Aries said, closing his briefcase. “I told you before I came here that this town wouldn’t allow you to take over. We’re different here, and you ignored me.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They can’t stop me. I may not own the damn town, but I sure as hell can build my company around it. I will box this damn town in with office buildings and drilling equipment and there is nothing they can do about it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. This town is funny when it comes to protecting their own. Be careful, Tristan, you may not like what your future holds if you proceed. If you want my opinion, drill somewhere else. You’re not wanted here.”

  “I don’t care what you think. I will own this town and nothing, not even those stubborn bitches, are going to stop me.”

  When Aries rounded on him, Tristan took a step back. “You better watch yourself, Tristan. You’re not in New York anymore. This is Montana, and we don’t take kindly to outsiders calling our women bitches. Do yourself a favor and get the fuck out of town before I let the mayor know what you just called his future wife.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” Tristan said, gathering his briefcase and coat. “But I will be back.”

  “Not so fast, Mr. Summerfield.”

  Tristan looked over his shoulder and sighed as the local sheriff of Treasure Cove walked over, swinging a set of handcuffs in his hand.

  Apparently, the town of Treasure Cove wanted its pound of flesh, too.

  Tristan watched as the clock ticked by. He’d been sitting in the Treasure Cove jail cell for hours, five to be exact, and if he didn’t get the hell out of here soon, he was going to go nuts. The sheriff, Garret Riley, was kind enough to let him have his phone call, but that was it. His attorney should have arrived already. Instead of being worried about his predicament, his thoughts kept going back to the night before with Violet. He wondered what she was doing, if she was okay. He missed her.

  He didn’t know how he was going to explain this situation to her. As of right now, the consensus was that his drilling equipment had caused the collapse that killed many lives, some that he was pretty damn sure she knew. Though he didn’t think it was possible until he could speak with the experts, he was left wondering. If it was his machinery, then his plan to move to Montana was going to be a costly one. The town of Treasure Cove wanted his head. The media was crucifying him, and if he couldn’t speak to his bankers soon, they were going to pull the plug on the whole damn thing. He needed out of this jail cell fast.

  “Can I make another call?” Tristan asked the sheriff with his feet up on the desk taking a nap. God, it must be nice to get paid to sleep. People like that pissed Tristan off tremendously.

  “Who ya wanna call?”

  “That is none of your business.”

  “Well, we ain’t got the funds for you to call China.”

  “I don’t want to call China.”

  “Then who do ya want to call?”

  “Your mother!” Tristan shouted. “Just give me the damn phone.”

  The sleeping sheriff slowly lowered his feet to the floor, picked up the phone and dialed a number. As he walked over to Tristan, Tristan heard him say, “Hey, Momma. There’s a city feller in jail here who wants to talk to you,” and just like that, Tristan was on the phone with a woman named Momma Love. God help him…he was never getting out of this cell.

  * * * *

  Violet was nervous. As the plane slowly came to a stop, she noticed her hands were shaking. She didn’t want to be here, but she couldn’t let Tristan sit in jail. Sasha had learned on the flight over that Tristan was arrested th
e moment his plane landed in Treasure Cove. What was supposed to be a simple interview with the local sheriff stations turned volatile when Gabriel and Tristan got into a fight. Well, it was actually Gabriel who did the hitting, but Tristan was arrested. Since then, Tristan had been sitting in the Treasure Cove Sheriff’s station under lock and key. Sasha informed her that Tristan’s attorneys, Mr. Nichol and Mr. Daley, had arrived in Treasure Cove but hadn’t seen their client yet. She didn’t know why and Sasha wasn’t telling. All she knew was that Sasha instructed them to wait for his arrival.

  Mrs. Prescott had accompanied her and Sasha, offering her services to make this trip as easy as humanly possible. Why she thought her being there would help, Violet didn’t know, but she had to admit, having the woman beside her did comfort her a little. Violet still wished she was in New York, but she had agreed to come. Tristan had done so much for her, offering her his home and making her feel safe again, returning to Treasure Cove was the least she could do.

  Still, the thought of stepping foot off the plane wasn’t easy. Especially when the door to the plane opened and Sasha got to his feet.

  “Are you ready, Violet?” he asked, holding his hand out to her, waiting.

  Violet couldn’t move. Her body tensed and her hands froze on her seatbelt. Her heart started beating rapidly and her breathing became labored. She couldn’t do this. Not even for Tristan.

  “Go ahead, Sasha,” she heard Mrs. Prescott say. “Violet and I will be along in a minute.”

  Violet said nothing as Sasha gathered his coat and briefcase and whispered something to Mrs. Prescott before leaving the plane. She saw the disappointment on his face as he looked back at her and it killed her to do that to him. She wasn’t as strong as he liked to believe. It wasn’t his fault, it was hers. Tristan was right when he called her damaged. She was. She knew and believed it.

  “We’re going to sit here for as long as it takes, Violet. Don’t worry, okay? I won’t leave your sight. Everything we need is here on this plane. You just take your time.”

  “Cathy, I can’t do this,” Violet whispered.

  “Yes, you can, and you will when you are ready. No one is going to make you do anything unless you want to.”

  Violet shook her head and muttered, “I should have stayed in New York.

  “Then why didn’t you? Sasha didn’t force you to come, did he?”

  “No,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I came of my own free will.”

  “Like I said, no one is going to make you do anything you don’t want.”

  “Why are you helping me?” Violet asked, looking at the woman.

  “Because I was you several years ago.” Mrs. Prescott smiled. “Many, many years ago, believe it or not, I was pretty like you. I was married and I thought I was in love. After a while, my babies came and the love I felt wasn’t there anymore. It was replaced with fear.”

  “I’m sorry,” Violet whispered.

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Violet. Unlike you, I had something to help me get through everything. If it weren’t for my boys, I’d probably be dead. My boys saved me. They gave me the strength to live. That’s what I want to do for you. I want to help you live again. It’s not going to be easy. You are going to have moments where all you want to do is hide and forget about everything and everyone around you. But listen when I say this next part. We all want to help you. We all care about you. And if my intuition is correct, you have two men who want nothing more than to show you the love they feel inside for you. Trust in that, Violet. Think of Sasha and Tristan and how over the last two days they have tried to make your life easier, to show you things that you have dreamed of seeing. Hold on to that like an anchor. Let their love give you the strength to make that first step.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know, sweetheart,” Cathy said, hugging her tightly. “I still get scared, too. But you know what I do when I get that way?”

  Violet shook her head no.

  “I call my boys.”

  “They must be something special. I never had anyone I could call.”

  “You do now.” Cathy smiled at her as she pushed her hair back to look into her eyes. “I never had a daughter. I know I’m not your momma, but if you ever need to call me, I would love that.”

  A slow tear fell from Violet’s eye as she whispered, “I’d like that.”

  “And you will always have us,” a male voice said, startling Violet and Mrs. Prescott. Violet looked up and saw Gabriel, Alexander, and Hazel standing near the door of the plane, flanked by five large men. She didn’t know what to do, but when Mrs. Prescott gasped and ran to the five men, Violet smiled, knowing that they must be her sons.

  Staring at the three of them, Violet didn’t know what to do. She’d only met Hazel a few times. She knew of her, but didn’t know the woman personally. As for Gabriel and Alexander, well, those two were a different story. Alexander had always been nice to her. He liked to joke around and make her laugh, which was a feat, considering she didn’t laugh much, but with Alexander, she did. Gabriel, on the other hand, he was still as intimidating as before. Oh, she knew that only being gone two days wouldn’t change who the man was. However, when she looked into his eyes and saw them tear up, Violet couldn’t help it and blinked back her own.

  While on the trip back to Treasure Cove, Sasha had informed her of her parentage, handing her a file with all the information he’d collected, along with some things that Alexander had found. She didn’t know what to think, let alone do with it all. She’d spent the better half of the flight trying to compartmentalize everything, trying to understand. At first she didn’t believe it, because it seemed too far-fetched, but when she found the picture of her mother with a man called Andres Sebastian Sexton, well, she didn’t know what to think, or the fact that her mother was definitely pregnant in the photo.

  The man who everyone claimed to be her father was an older gentleman, in his late forties, maybe fifties. He was still handsome and robust. He looked lovingly at her mother, who in the picture only had eyes for him. To any other person, they seemed in love, happy to be together, yet that wasn’t their story. Violet had read that just before her birth, her father was killed in a motorcycle accident. Her mother was devastated and fled England, which apparently was where she was born, after her mother’s family refused to give her help.

  Bianca Adelaide Renault was a stunning woman from a prominent family. Born into wealth, Bianca had wanted for nothing. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she was adored by her family and everyone who knew her. It was when she started seeing a man twenty years her senior that her family chose to give her an ultimatum. Only, according to the file Violet read, her mother chose wrong.

  Andres Sebastian Sexton was, for lack of a better word, a womanizer. Already married to Gabriel’s mother, he chose to live his life as he wanted, which led to three illegitimate children and a slew of debts in his wake. By all accounts, her father wasn’t a good man and in a way she was glad she never met him. There was still several papers which she hadn’t read and an envelope that contained a key, which she had no clue as to what it opened, but it was all there in black and white. Her life, or the life she would have had if her father still lived or her mother hadn’t run from her family. Violet knew that choices had consequences, her life was no exception, and the only thing she could do was face them head on.

  When Gabriel knelt before her, Violet couldn’t stop the tears from falling from her eyes. She was so confused and didn’t know who to turn to. She wanted to trust Gabriel. He’d only shown her kindness and compassion. Yet, he knew her past, had seen the aftermath of Master. He was there that night when she tried to kill herself, but it was he who saved her. She never really knew how to talk to Gabriel, because he was a part of her life she wanted to forget about. Yet, looking into his eyes, she didn’t see the dominant she knew him to be. She saw a man who desperately wanted to help her.

  “I’m sorry, Gabriel.”

  “Wh
y are you sorry, love? You did nothing wrong.”

  “I shouldn’t have run away like I did.”

  Grinning, Gabriel wiped her tears away. “Running away is something we Sextons are good at doing. Our father ran from his responsibilities, I ran from the only woman I ever loved, Alexander ran from the truth, and Hazel ran from her past. Don’t let our family history get in the way of your happiness. And if you can find a little room for your brothers and sister in your heart, well then, we’re the better for it.”

  “You mean that?” she said, her voice hitching.

  “Little sister, we’ve been looking for you for a very long time.”

  And just like that, her dam burst as she wrapped her arms around Gabriel’s neck and held onto him for dear life. She couldn’t stop the flood of emotions flowing over her body, nor did she want to. He said he’d been looking for her, that he wanted any part of her life, and that was good enough for her. No one had ever wanted her and she’d never felt wanted. But those simple words from Gabriel were enough to latch on to.

  Gabriel lifted her out of her seat, his hold on her tightening, and for the first time in her life, she felt safe with Gabriel. A new wave of emotions washed over her, as he whispered the words, “I love you, Violet” into her hair as he, too, cried with her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. I will. Yes, ma’am,” Tristan kept saying over and over again. He’d been on the phone for the last twenty minutes with Zac Phelps and Garret Riley’s mother. She was a formidable woman, one he prayed he never met in person. It wasn’t that she didn’t sound sweet, because she did, it was just that when she scolded him, he felt like a small child who deserved to be punished. He hadn’t felt that way since before his own mother passed. He didn’t like it then and he hated it even more now.

  “Yes, ma’am, I will. Goodbye,” Tristan said, handing the phone back to Zac Phelps, who was leaning against his desk, grinning at him from ear to ear. The tall sheriff was a pain in the ass and Tristan hated him. He was just about to give Zac a piece of his mind, when in walked Sasha. “Oh, thank god!” Tristan shouted, getting to his feet. “What the hell took you so long? And why are you here, I thought you were staying in New York with Violet? You didn’t leave her there alone, did you?”