The Red Shoes

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  The Red Shoes

  Limited Edition Nocturne Annual 2019

  Kailee Reese Samuels

  The Red Shoes

  (Limited Edition Nocturne Annual 2019)

  Copyright © 2019 by Kailee Reese Samuels

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, but not limited to, photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of author credited, brief quotations in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely and purely coincidental.

  All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

  E-Book Edition: October 31, 2019

  ISBN 978-1-947362-82-6

  Editing by The Red Pen Queen

  W A R N I N G S

  are like cups of tea.

  This warning is here for a reason.

  This book is a work of fiction containing explicit, graphic, and violent material.

  If you’re not 18+, put it the fuck down.

  Please practice safe sex.

  Safe, Sane, and Consensual (SSC)

  and

  Risk-Awareness Consensual Kink (RACK)

  practices in BDSM.

  Communication is key and I do not believe anything should be swept under the rug - sexuality, gender orientation, race, age, or religion. If I help stir the cauldron of conversation and provide an escape for a few hours, I have done my job.

  Play hard and have fun. Be good and love one another.

  Enjoy the ride!

  Without further ado, here we go…

  Kailee Books

  A printable reading list is available:

  Sal’s Reading List

  22

  A&E

  Bad Girl

  Juliet

  Kinky Sex Magic

  Madness

  Poppy

  She/He

  a Tomb of Ashen Tears

  Salt Kissed Love

  Famous Last Words

  Every Minute I Love You

  SONS

  Son of Saint

  Son of Angel

  Son of Cirque

  Son of Master

  Sal Raniero Thrillers

  Unspoken (Prequel to Hey Pretty)

  Hey Pretty

  The Story of Salvatore

  The Initiation

  Tea for Two

  Grunt

  Hopechest

  RIDE

  Fluff

  Bounce

  Raw

  Nocturne

  A Shimmering Dream

  The Red Shoes

  Hop onboard the Kailee Train:

  KaileeReeseSamuels.com

  The Red Shoes Playlist

  Listen to music that inspired The Red Shoes on Spotify

  Your Love Is My Drug (Dave Aude Club Mix)

  – Kesha

  Call Your Girlfriend (Feed Me Remix) – Robyn

  Shake It Out (Benny Benassi Remix)

  – Florence + the Machine

  A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got)

  (Paige Festival Remix)

  – Fergie, Q-Tip, GoonRock

  Girls On Film (Tin Tin Out Mix) – Duran Duran

  Circus (Diplo Circus Remix) – Britney Spears

  F**k U Betta – Neon Hitch

  Bad Romance (Skrillex Remix) – Lady Gaga

  Ooh Yeah (Remix) – Moby

  I Love It (feat. Charli XCX) [Cobra Starship Remix]

  – Icona Pop

  Fancy (Yellow Claw Remix)

  – Iggy Azalea, Charli XCX

  The Edge of Glory (Sultan & Ned Shepard Remix)

  – Lady Gaga

  Fly Me Away (The Naughty Rmx) – Goldfrapp

  Ooh La La (Phones Re-edit) – Goldfrapp

  Dear Reader

  The story takes place during the time of

  Every Minute I Love You.

  Please do not assume anything that happens in this dreamscape is a precursor for future books.

  The Red Shoes is a dark fantasy.

  Have a glass, forget everything, and enjoy the dream.

  THANK YOU

  SO SO MUCH LOVE

  kailee xx

  The Red Shoes is for the man

  who casually said five little (very impactful) words to me.

  “I want to read it.”

  Well played, Sir.

  Always. Forever.

  xx

  Contents

  PART I

  1. Powdered Sugar Dick

  PART II

  2. Gold Path of Sexcellence

  PART III

  3. Polychromatic Technodreams

  PART IV

  4. Glory Holes for the Highest

  PART V

  5. The Steel Balls of Surefire

  PART VI

  6. Golden Trails

  Kailee Books

  PART I

  One

  Powdered Sugar Dick

  The late afternoon sun warms the damp road as my footsteps maintain the rhythm of the run. Sweat pours from my skin and soaks into the quick-dry shirt and shorts as I take deep, cleansing breaths.

  I am sober and sane.

  Those two things rarely coincide.

  The rains came in early this morning and left eerie gray clouds hanging overhead, but I needed to escape. I loved the long-distance runs, and I’ve been gone for hours.

  On a harness beside me—No, it’s not my Angel—Daisicle keeps up like a champ with her short legs. I can’t stop running from the memories of Iris and I. I can still taste her sweet lips and feel her soft skin in my hands from years ago.

  Despite the music in my ears, I randomly hear the voice of my Old Poppa—Luca Raniero. “You need to fight to become who you were meant to be.”

  I slow down to barely a walk. “What do you mean,” I think to myself. I am not to the point of actually talking to myself, not that I don’t when working, but having a conversation with another person is a whole new level of fucked up.

  “You must continue fighting to become Lucas Salvatore Raniero. The journey will be long and challenging, but I assure you, you will have everything you ever desired and more.”

  “… How do you know this? Why?”

  “Because I have seen the other side and I know your fate, son.” I shake my head, attributing the his voice to the physical exhaustion. “You cannot deny that you know the struggle will be worth it.”

  I run fast. Away from the voice and the knowledge I have of the future.

  Turning up the drive, I pass the neighbor’s dog, Chubbs. Daisicle gets all excited by the sight and smell of the stout pit bull. He’s a beautiful boy. We stop, and I pull the plugs from my ears and check my phone for messages.

  There is only one that matters from Deacon.

  “Dom and Nicky are both here. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I stare down the driveway and consider turning back to the thoughts and the road where I won’t have to deal with the shit storm of seeing my teacher and the eating machine. I love the guys, don’t mistake me, but Deacon’s vacation to the Orient has been hard on our relationship.

  He went. I didn’t.

  I’m a jealous motherfucker.

  He fucked my girl.

  “Dais, stop sniffing his balls!”

  “You know,” Deacon says, strolling up with a beer in his hand. I steal the bottle and down it. “I could say the same thing to you.” We g
ive some bromance slap of our hands as I mischievously grin. “How was the run? You’ve been gone long enough.”

  I check my watch. Almost four hours. “Not long enough. How long have they been here?”

  “Two hours,” he informs, lighting a smoke. I steal it from his fingers. “Nico ate the refrigerator and crawled under the house to adjust your work.”

  “Goddammit!”

  “Meanwhile, Dom is maintaining his distance and pretending to assist Nicky while working on his phone.”

  I take a long drag on the cigarette and tug on Dais’ leash. She refuses to leave Chubbs, so Deacon scoops her up in his arms. She excitedly licks his face. “What is he doing under the house exactly?”

  “He’s finding new places to hide bodies,” Deacon says with a shrug. “Said he wanted to crawl under my house. What am I supposed to do, say no? Fucker is insane. Oh, Jas called with some details on the Goro gang.”

  “Great,” I grumble as we cross the creek. “I should go back to my run. At least, it was peaceful.”

  “Peaceful in the way having cars zooming past you at ninety can be?”

  “Precisely,” I assure as Deacon jumps over the water.

  “I hate getting my shoes wet.”

  “I’m telling you we should build a bridge,” I contend, puffing on the smoke. We pass the dilapidated Victorian. “What is behind the fence in the back?”

  “There are garden beds, a few broken statues, and a lot of junk.”

  “Shit.”

  “Pretty much,” Deacon says, setting Dais down and releasing her from the leash. She runs like a wild woman up to his Craftsman. The whole property is incredible but in terrible shape. Deacon’s 1200 acres of a mistake or a masterpiece, only time will tell. I spot Dom in a lawn chair near the house. I smile. “His marriage to Ashley is tearing him apart.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean, if it can happen to Dom, it could happen to any of us. And it isn’t like Nico’s relationship with Serene is perfect,” Deacon whispers, glancing at me. “Does it scare you?”

  “Every fucking day.”

  We meander up, and Dom rises from the chair to offer a handshake, hug, and kisses to my cheeks. “How are you, Boston?”

  “I’m alright.”

  “That’s good,” he says, though I know one look in my eyes, and he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.

  I point at the foot tall opening running the length of the house. “What is he doing?”

  “Hell if I know,” Dom chuckles. “He’s Nico.”

  I drop the smoke in Deacon’s beer bottle and toss my hat on his head. My long bangs flop to my face. “I’ll be back.”

  “Are you going to fish him out, or do you plan on getting as lost as he is?”

  “I will be back,” I promise, planting a kiss on Cruz’s cheek. “Give me five minutes.”

  I tug down the sleeves of my workout shirt and head underneath the house. It’s a mess of trash and rocks and not smooth at all. This belly crawl hurts. I pull out my phone, turn on the light, and scan the underbelly of Deacon’s beast. “… Nicky?”

  “Yes?” he answers from the back of the house. “What are you doing under there?”

  “I could ask you the same thing!”

  “I am hiding,” he replies, his voice wavering. I know he isn’t okay. This is a breakdown for someone like Nico Cristos. He is the son of the filthy rich, Delarte Cristos, and a wannabe serial killer—a sociopath—with some odd tendencies, including a fetish for shoes and sharps. “You need to leave me alone.”

  “Like hell!” I scoot over to him. He’s not good in any way. His eyes are damp, and the dirt is sticking to his skin. “What are you doing?”

  “We killed Nissa.”

  “Yes, I am well aware,” I say, inching closer. “She was going to sail our asses down the river.”

  “I know, but she was Deacon’s father’s secretary for years,” he says, feeling a bit of remorse. “Maybe we made a mistake.”

  “It’s a little late to be saying we made mistakes.”

  “What if Deacon ends up holding it against me one day?”

  “He won’t do that,” I assure, clutching his fist. He drops the vial in my hand. I’m not shocked because he has plenty of access to whatever his heart desires, but I’m taken aback. He’s not the type to indulge in the toxic. He rarely smokes up with us. “Do you think I hold a grudge against him for going to see Iris?”

  “You should,” he mutters bravely. He probably isn’t wrong. If we were healthy, I would have cold-cocked Deacon and ended our relationship. The problem is I am in love with him. And I encouraged Deacon to partake of Iris’ many talents. “His friendship with her is so much more than you can see.”

  I am fully aware Deacon and Iris share an intimate, unbreakable bond, but I have to trust it stops where I start. I have to believe we won’t end up in some broken love triangle. Knowing my luck, I will end up the third wheel, left out, and watching while he carries her over the threshold and puts his baby in her belly. I cannot deny how I feel, but I have to trust us, too.

  “I killed Nissa.”

  I shake my head and offer the only consolation I can, “Part of your charm.”

  After pulling ourselves from underneath the house, I spot the rays of sunshine spotlighting through a crack in the dark clouds. I pocket the snow for a rainy day. Stripping off my shirt, I wipe the dirt from my skin and stare at them. I fantasize about a beautiful place for Iris and me to stay forever. My version of Eden amidst the darkness of my world.

  “Look!” Nico shouts, pointing at the sky. “A rainbow.”

  “That’s a big one,” Dom declares. “We should go find the pot of gold.”

  More than the pot of gold, I need a barrel of answers on how to solve all my problems. I have significant issues—my work as a black ops agent, the ties to my mafia family, and the betrayals and lies that happen because of both. I’m supposed to marry a girl I’m not in love with, and that is the worst of them all.

  Nico and Dom head inside as Deacon nudges my arm. “You okay there, Boss?”

  “Ya,” I mumble, quietly praying on the rainbow for all of my dreams to come true. I want Iris. She is the one. Tears puddle in my eyes. “I just miss her so much.”

  “I know you do,” Deacon says, wrapping his arm under mine. “But, I promise you; she is safe.”

  I blink to him. “… But is she still in love with me?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Deacon smiles. “That girl loves you.”

  “How do I know we won’t end up like either of them?” I tilt my head towards the house. “Dom loved Ash once. Nico loved Serene.”

  “Nico still loves Serene. They’re just having problems, but you know what? You and Iris will have issues, too. You aren’t immune, no matter how much in love you are. No one is. Love isn’t the deciding factor on if people get along.”

  “That is my worry,” I admit as the rainbow starts to fade. “Somewhere beyond that rainbow, Iris is in Japan.”

  “She can’t see our rainbow.”

  I give a side-eyed gaze. “She is a part of our rainbow, love.”

  He laughs. “Fair enough.”

  “I just want to go higher, beyond the clouds and darkness, to a place where we can be…”

  “Untouchable.” The flick of his lighter draws my attention, and the sweet smell of ganja fills the air. He offers me a toke.

  “I got good stuff.”

  “Babe,” he urges, holding onto my forearm. “Don’t.”

  I sigh and peer down. “Everything feels hopeless.”

  “I don’t want to see it, but I’ll be here if you slip. ”I nod as he places a solid kiss to my lips. “I love you, and I hate seeing you like this.”

  I want to ask what he thought would happen. He spent time with my girl. He fucked my girl. I flip the magical rainbow and all the fairytales that got their happily ever afters off. I may end up in a body bag. Happily fucking ever after.

  Stepping into th
e house, I see Deacon scrounging up dinner while Nico and Dom sit in his nook. It’s all too much as I make a beeline for the shower in Deacon’s master bath. I close the door behind me.

  Fat and long is the name of the next move, and I don’t stop to think. I need out of my head. I can’t replay what I see any longer, or I will end up with cuts lining my arms and rocking in cold bathwater.

  Put on a brave face.

  Be that guy.

  Be the hero.

  Fuck that—it’s too much pressure.

  Put on a brave face with the good blow. The heroic motherfucking guy with the good shit.

  Be the bad boy with addiction before the meltdown burns Deacon and me to the ground. I clean up the remnants of my disgusting habit and peel off my damp shorts. I’m kicking my shoes into the corner and turning the shower on hot when the door opens.

  “I’m no fool,” Dom says, easing the door shut behind him. “You are running.”

  “I’m not doing anything but taking a shower.”

  “Bullshit, Boston,” he insists, stepping closer. We are nose to nose. He is casually dressed, and I’m stark naked. I glance at our differences in the mirror. He is my idol—Dominic Gennaro—the man with the answers, but he seems to have lost them all in his marriage. “I know when you are up to no good because you avoid me like the plague.”