by Alexx Andria
The crickets chirped as the night wore on. The house settled into silence.
Was Tara right? Should I have taken Reece’s offer to call Gage that day? Would it have made a difference?
I’d been afraid of another rejection. I knew I couldn’t have taken another hit to my heart.
Was Gage okay?
What had Reece meant by “the anniversary?” Anniversary of what?
God, I hated mysteries. I wasn’t cut out for stories with huge holes in the fabric. Maybe that was my version of OCD. I had to patch the holes, had to know all the details before I could move on.
Even if the information was hurtful.
In a way, I was thankful I’d discovered Landon with his cock in someone else’s mouth — there’d been no room for misunderstanding or persuasive lies.
Cut and dry — he’d been cheating.
Made the decision-making process so much easier.
If I hadn’t caught him red-handed, Landon might’ve strung me along for a few more months.
I might’ve even married him.
I gagged at the thought.
So, yes, I truly believed an ugly truth was preferable to a pretty lie.
Landon’s betrayal didn’t hurt anymore — but Gage’s rejection…it still killed.
I could still see his cold expression, the dispassionate, disconnected way he’d offered to create a new “arrangement” that’d felt insulting at best and pitiful at worst.
Is there a greater humiliation than discovering that feelings aren’t shared mutually?
Now I questioned everything. I couldn’t stop the tingle in my belly when I thought of Gage, or the way my breath caught when I thought of his touch on my skin but I could refuse to wallow in the pain of his rejection.
I grabbed my empty wine glass, prepared to go to bed until I heard the tell-tale sounds of someone getting banged.
Roughly.
I choked on a bubble of laugher. Get it, girl. Make that accountant your bitch.
Sticking my earbuds in, I tuned out what was going on upstairs and blissed out to loud, obnoxious rap.
23
“You’re leaving so soon?” Tara whined in dismay when she saw my travel bags packed the next morning. “I had plans for us to take the kids to Yosemite today.”
“I’m sorry, sissy,” I said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “But I need to clear my head. I’ll take a raincheck on that Yosemite trip, though, okay?” I ruffled my nephew’s hair as he munched his cereal and kissed the crown of my niece as I crossed to grab my keys.
Tara, usually such an early riser, looked wonderfully disheveled and all I could do was give her a mental thumbs up.
“I’ll be gone a few days. I want to head up the coast and take some pictures.”
Tara nodded with understanding but she was disappointed just the same. I hated seeing my sister so sad but I had to do this for me. I couldn’t save Gage because he didn’t want saving but also, I had some work to do on myself, too.
The last true heartfelt advice Gage had given me was, “Make your mark” and I needed to start doing exactly that.
“I have this fancy camera and I haven’t had the time to actually learn how to use it,” I said. “Well, there’s no time like the present, right?”
Ryan entered the kitchen, looking his usual accountant-y self and I so badly wanted to ask if he had any bruises from my sister riding him like a pony but I held my tongue. “Leaving?” he inquired politely, leaning to kiss Tara on her cheek. So polite. Ugh. I wanted to tell him that if he didn’t start grabbing his wife like he meant it, he’d lose her. But again, I bit my tongue.
Hey, I was better at this than I thought.
“Yep. Road trip.”
“I’ve put out a few feelers in the community. The local hotel has an opening for a maid. Let me know if you want a reference.”
I tried not to snarl. Instead I just smiled. “Thanks, Ry. You’re a peach.”
Tara frowned, creating that small crease in her forehead and I wanted to thump her in the head to make her stop. She surprised me with a clipped defense, “Mari isn’t taking a job as a maid, Ryan. She has far too many skills. Besides, she doesn’t need a job just yet. Her last consulting job paid more than you make in a year. I think she can afford a little wanderlust.”
I nearly choked on the toast I’d stuffed in my mouth to keep from saying something I’d regret.
Ryan blinked at his wife’s change in demeanor and actually stammered his response, “W-wow, good for you, Mari. Okay, well, I have to hit the office.” After quick perfunctory kisses for everyone but me (Thank you, Lord Baby Jesus) Ryan went on his merry way.
“Whoa and damn, girl,” was all I said under my breath but I was so delighted I wanted to crow and clap my hands like a drunken monkey, saying, y’all better buckle up; the sleeper has awakened, yo.
Once the kids were on the bus and off to school, I said my goodbyes to Tara.
It actually hurt more than I thought it would because I felt as if I was walking away from the opportunity to really know my sister.
“Still gonna play the obedient housewife?” I asked, curious.
“When it suits me.”
“And when it doesn’t?”
“Then, I won’t.”
I laughed. “Ryan might not survive the climate change in your bedroom.”
“Change is good,” Tara said with a shrug. “Besides, I didn’t hear him complaining. Not that he could’ve with that sock stuffed in his mouth.”
I gaped with delighted shock. “Jesus, Tara…who knew you were so…bossy. What’s next? Leather corsets, whips and chains?”
“Who knows? I do look good in leather, though.”
“I like this new Tara,” I admitted. “I wish I could stay to get to know her better.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Tara promised with a soft smile. “Go find your bliss, sissy. It’s out there.”
I blinked back tears and hugged her hard.
It wasn’t an ending, I told myself, but a beginning.
As we walked to my car, Tara asked, curious, “What was his name?”
I paused a minute, waiting for the ache to pass. “Gage. Gage Donnelly.”
Tara frowned as she murmured, “I wonder if he was related to Dustin Donnelly…”
I stopped short. “I’d wondered the same thing. Seems unlikely, right?”
Tara pursed her lips in thought, shaking her head. “The world would have to be awfully small if they were related. Dustin’s dad…he was bad news.”
“How do you know Dustin? He was younger than us.”
“I was his senior mentor. You know how all the seniors were assigned a freshman the first day of school our senior year?” I nodded, vaguely remembering something like that. “Well, Dustin was my freshman.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, they moved before the end of the year. Dustin always came to school with bruises but when I asked him about them, he said it was from dirt-biking. I wasn’t sure if I believed him but what could I do? I was just a teenager, too.”
I chewed my lip. “Do you know if he had an older brother?”
Tara didn’t know. “I never asked,” she admitted. “But he must’ve been older than us because I don’t remember a Donnelly in our class, do you?”
I’d already checked the yearbook so I knew the answer was no.
“So what makes you think his dad was abusive if Dustin wouldn’t admit that his dad was giving him the bruises?”
“You know that vibe you get from people when there’s just something wrong with them?” Tara shared, shuddering at the memory. “I met the dad once when he came to pick up Dustin at school one day. The guy had the meanest eyes I’d ever seen. And the way he’d looked at Dustin…I felt bad for the kid.”
I felt sick. What if the two were related? Had something happened to Dustin? Was that the anniversary Reece had mentioned?
Tara shook off the memory. “Well, it was a long time ago. I’m sure it’s
nothing. I doubt they’re even related. What are the odds, right?”
“Pretty astronomical,” I murmured but my thoughts were racing. I needed to do some digging, if only to ease my own mind. I kissed Tara on the cheek before climbing into the car. “Don’t go too easy on Ryan. I think he digs the new Tara.”
I didn’t know if that were true but I got a private giggle at the thought of him bound and trussed up like a Christmas turkey, getting his ass whipped by my leather-corseted, housewife-turned-Domme sister while rides him with a strap-on.
Maybe it wouldn’t go that far but I hoped it would. It would be the most interesting thing I’d ever associate Ryan with in the entire time I’d known him.
As I put my hometown in my rearview, I made some calls. Thankfully, I still had that PI in my phone. I had another job for him.
Good, bad or ugly, I just needed some answers.
And maybe some closure.
24
Dustin Donnelly was dead.
I wanted the PI to be wrong but Dustin Donnelly had died of a single gunshot wound to the chest when he was fourteen.
Shot by his father.
I felt sick.
The bruises Tara had seen…they hadn’t been from dirt-biking. His father had been beating the shit out of him.
The father had died in an Arizona prison, natural causes.
“Did Dustin have a brother?” I asked, holding my breath.
The rustling of paper followed with a short, “Yeah. Older by six years.”
“What was the brother’s name?”
“David Donnelly.”
My heart stopped. “Are you sure?”
“Says right here in the paperwork. David Gage Donnelly, born Nov. 17 to Daryl and Monica Donnelly.”
Dustin and Gage were brothers. Had been brothers.
“Thank you,” I managed through squeezed vocal cords. “I’ll PayPal your usual fee.”
“Any reason you keep chasing down this guy?” he asked.
“It’s personal.”
He chuckled. “It always is. Alright, pleasure doing business with you. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
“Do you have an address for David Gage Donnelly?” I asked.
“Everything he owns is routed through the corporation. No physical address. Sorry.”
I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. “Thanks.”
“You bet.” And he clicked off.
What had Gage lived through with a father like that? Where had Gage ended up after his father went to prison for killing his youngest son?
And why had caused Daryl Donnelly to point a loaded shotgun at his son’s chest?
Where had Gage been when it had happened?
Reece had said the anniversary was always hard on Gage. Dustin’s death anniversary was almost three months ago. Just about the time Gage had propositioned me.
I made a quick decision and changed freeways to head to the airport. I had to get back to New York. I had to see Gage.
On the way, I called Tara to let her know my plans because I knew she’d worry if she found out I’d left California without telling her.
I summed up my discovery and waited for her reaction.
“You have to go to him,” she agreed, surprising me with her solid support. “Gage needs you.”
No questions. No “let’s talk it over” just a definitive yes. When I released the pent-up breath in my chest, I realized I must’ve needed her approval without knowing it. “I’ll be in touch.”
I got to the airport, parked my car in long-term, and went straight to a terminal, asking for the quickest flight to New York.
I was lucky, a few cancellations opened up a seat on the flight currently boarding — and within the hour I was up in the air.
I couldn’t even imagine the horror of knowing your father had killed your brother.
That would fuck up someone’s head for sure.
But why did Gage blame himself? He’d said to me that night, it should’ve been me, and it hadn’t made sense then, but it did now.
How was I going to find Gage? Aside from stalking him at Belcorp again, I had no idea how to find him.
Unless I hooked up with Reece Buchanan again.
With any luck, finding a Buchanan might be easier to do than a reclusive billionaire who guarded his privacy with every resource.
I went to Google and searched Reece Buchanan and Buchanan Enterprises popped right up. Holy Jeez, the Buchanan’s were loaded. There were pages and pages of information on Buchanan Enterprises, photos of the handsome billionaire entrepreneurs smiling from their estate in the Hamptons, hamming it up for the camera at night clubs.
Apparently, none of the Buchanan’s suffered from a shy nature.
With relatively minimal effort, I found a phone number buried in one of the pages of a cached social media post and by the time I landed, I was ready to put Lady Luck on the spot.
I knew it was a long shot but the only other choice I had was to stalk Reece or Gage and I didn’t want to do either.
A man answered, “Yeah? Who’s this? Today’s your lucky day, I don’t usually answer calls I don’t recognize. Hell, sometimes I don’t answer even when I do recognize the number.”
I knew right away — same guy. Reece’s voice retained that devil-may-care attitude that was hard to forget. “Reece Buchanan? This is Mari Jones…Gage’s friend.”
He sobered quickly. “Hello Mari…what’s up?”
“I need to talk to Gage,” I answered. “Please help me.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, surprising me with his turn-about. “He’s not in a good place.”
“That’s exactly why I need to see him.”
“Forgive me, but I tried to get you to go to him weeks ago…you refused. Why the change of heart?”
“Look, I was self-protecting at the time. My heart was pretty bruised but if I’d known how certain information…it would’ve changed my mind.”
“And what information would that be?”
I get that Reece was being protective of his friend, but Jesus, was he Gage’s bodyguard? However, seeing as Reece was the only way I would find Gage, I answered. “I found out about his little brother, Dustin. You aren’t going to believe this but…David and I lived in the same town. My sister was Dustin’s senior mentor when he was a freshman.”
“So that’s the connection…” he mused openly, still, he wasn’t caving. “Look, I appreciate that your intentions are in the right place but…Gage…he’s a fucking mess. I’m not sure seeing him wouldn’t ruin whatever good memories you have of him. He hasn’t been to the office since you left town. He’s holed up like a fucking hermit and he’s drinking himself stupid. To be honest…me and my brothers were about to stage an intervention and that’s not going to go over well.”
“Let me try,” I pleaded in earnest. “I think he really needs me.”
“I’m not sure it will make a difference at this point.”
“C’mon, if I fail to make a difference, then it doesn’t work but isn’t it worth a shot?”
Reece heaved a sigh as if he were going against his better judgement and said, “I’ll text you the address where he’s holed up. I’ll have a key at the front desk. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
We clicked off and the chime went off with the text delivery. I flagged a taxi and found myself at an older yet stately hotel that’d obviously been lovingly and painstakingly restored but I didn’t have time to marvel at the beauty.
After getting the room key Reece promised, I made my way through the lobby to the room, a penthouse suite at the top of the old building and let myself in, hoping for the best.
Seconds later, my nose wrinkled as the foul aroma of stale, rotting food, spilled booze, dirty armpits, and unwashed asshole assaulted my senses.
“Holy crap, you’re a fucking slob,” I muttered, holding my nose as I searched for human life. I wound my way through the mess, tripping once on shoe flung in the middle of
the walkway, and tried to find Gage in all this chaos.
I found him, sprawled across the bed, naked as the day he was born, snoring loudly.
It was possible Gage hadn’t showered in days…no, weeks.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I said, surveying the absolute disintegration of a human being. Time for some tough fucking love. I shoved the mounds of dirty clothes out of my way as I went to the bathroom to run a bath. First things first, he had to be cleaned up. “Hobo chic is not a trend that you’ll be starting any time soon, Donnelly.”
Once steam began to fill the bathroom, I returned to Gage, slapping him hard on the ass to wake him.
He startled with an angry yet slurred yelp and at least I knew I’d gotten his attention. “C’mon, you stink,” I said without preamble as I helped him to his feet while he stared blearily at me.
“Mari?” he questioned as if he couldn’t quite trust his eyesight. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Bath first, questions later.”
“I fucking hate baths,” he returned sourly as I helped him to the bathroom.
“Too bad.”
To his credit, he climbed into the tub, hissing only slightly at the heat but when he started to tip forward in the massive tub I realized if I didn’t want him to drown, I’d better get in with him.
Without hesitation, I stripped and slid in behind him, wrapping my legs around his torso and pulling him back against my chest.
His eyelids fluttered shut as I slowly poured water through his hair. “Why are you here, Mari?”
“Because you’re falling the fuck apart, obviously,” I answered, grabbing the shampoo and pouring a shit ton on top of his head and lathering it up. “Jesus, Gage…when was the last time you bathed?”
He didn’t answer but he didn’t fight me either. “Rinse,” I told him and he slid down to dunk his head. When he didn’t pop up quickly enough, I hauled his big ass body up. He chuckled as if drowning would’ve been a grand adventure and I wanted to push him back under. I made quick work of soaping up his body, ignoring the distraction of his semi-hard cock as I performed as clinically as possible so I could get the job done.
Finished, I climbed from the tub, pulled the plug and then grabbed what could only be described as a fluffy bath blanket and thrust it at him. “Dry off,” I instructed, leaving him so I could find some food to stuff down his throat so he could sober up.
