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Breaking Bad: 14 Tales of Lawless Love

Page 81

by Koko Brown


  “Anytime mate. I hope this thing with her works out. She’s been a ghost who’s had a hold on you for some time now. At least this way you can make a clean break.”

  I nod my head as I leave the office, get into my car, and go to Westfield. I can’t remember the last time I’d been to the mall. Amazon provides me with what I need, or I send someone else. This trip is personal. I can remember everything I ever learned about Athena. Her taste is light ad bright like the woman itself, or it was. I don’t do nervous, yet here I am with sweaty palms, and a stomach full of birds flapping their wings and wreaking havoc. How much has she changed? What if she’s nothing like I remember? Does she blame me for that night? It’s the real reason I never tried to contact her. I wouldn’t be able to handle a look of hate etched onto the face I still see in my dreams.

  The one time Alfie Bowring turned bitch and found he had a streak of yellow bellied chicken inside him.

  I’m trying to prepare myself for every scenario. She’ll probably be confused, frightened, and angry. I’ll bear the brunt of that. I can’t take anything the first couple of weeks personally. My stomach twists itself into knots, and I walk into the shop feeling like a human pretzel. In a fantasy world, she’d sleep in my room. In reality, I’m placing her in the room down the hall that has a bathroom that attaches to the room on the opposite side. I want her to feel like she has her own space apart from me. I can compartmentalize with the best of them. It’s why I’m still alive after everything’s said and done.

  I’ve seen empires crumble, families wiped out, and the pale horse of death galloping toward me many times. The bright colors, ruffles, rugs, and pillows boggle my mind. How the hell can anyone pick? They’re all but falling off the rows of white shelving, blending together in a crazy mishmash of colors and patterns.

  “Can I help you, Sir?”

  I turn to face the slender blonde with wide, frightened brown eyes, gray streaks, and a kind, round face. Everything about her outfit is drab. Beige pants, a white t-shirt, and a gray blazer. I want the opposite of her in Athena’s room. She was always bold, bright, and feminine.

  “Yes, I’m having house guests, and I need new linens. I’m not ashamed to admit I’ve no clue how to match things up and make them pretty or her.”

  Her shoulders relax as I take a small step back to give her more personal space. I can’t shrink myself, but I do know how to appear less imposing. I fake an easy smile.

  “Now that I can certainly help you with that. Is this a young woman you know well.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell me a bit about her style?”

  “She likes … bright colors? No. not bright like neon, but light?”

  “Lighter shades?”

  “Yes and flowery.” I gestured with my hand and shrug, lost for words.

  “Floral patterns.” She walks toward a shelf in the back, and I follow behind her.

  A light blue comforter with tiny pink flowers catches my eye. It reminds me of her room at the house in Nantucket.

  “That one,” I say with a certainty.

  “Do you want the sheets to match also?”

  I nod my head. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

  “What about a few accent pillows?”

  “Yes?” I say unsure if I really need it.

  She pauses. “Is the room bare Mr….”

  “Bowring.”

  Her eyes widen once more. Yeah, that one love.

  “Is the room lacking adornment? Men tend to be more simplistic than women. We like a little bit of comfort. Candles, pillows, rugs, so we don’t step onto a cold floor when we get out of bed.”

  “I see what you mean,” I say with a sigh. “I want this to be a home away from home.” I glance at her name tag. “Janet. So whatever you feel I need to go with this, add it on. Money isn’t an object. I’ll also need two more full sets for her to switch out. I want her to have the option.”

  “I understand. Do you need anything else?”

  Her words resonate with me. “Oh yeah. I’m going to need a full bathroom set.”

  “Let’s get to work.”

  She’s like a damn fairy Godmother scooping things off shelves into a cart, matching , mixing, explaining. I soak it all in. I’ve never had a woman around. Me Ma died when I wasn’t more than nineteen, and I’ve been on my own since, so this is educational. The women I bed to scratch my itch are nothing more than ships passing in the night. They’re out with the sun and know I’m not looking for repeats. Loaded up with bags, I say my goodbyes to Janet, fill the back of my car, and head back in for clothing. I’m not touching this one. I’d make a bloody mess of it, and piss her off with the wrong things. I hired a personal stylist instead and booked an appointment.

  Never let it be said Porter doesn’t think ahead. He forwarded sizes and photos of what she wears. I sent them to my stylist who should be read with a few weeks’ worth of clothing. I don’t want her walking into a home where nothing belongs to her. I know that feeling. It’s devastating to have nothing more than the clothes on your back. Porter set her up an account for money no one can touch but her. She’s set for life, but I know her. She won’t want to rest on her laurels. That girl always had to be doing something. From volunteerism to college and a healthy social life, she never lacked for things to do.

  I have cousins, associates, and a few close mates with spouses. Perhaps she can start building a social network with them. I enter the store and make my way to the counter. The woman in a chic black pantsuit catches my eyes. Her dark-brown hair is pulled back in a low ponytail from her oval shaped face.

  “Jennifer?”

  “Yes, Mr. Bowring. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

  We shake hands.

  “Likewise.”

  “If you want to have a seat, I’ll bring out the rack with the outfits I’ve chosen.”

  I nod my head as we move to the seating area. I lean back and prepare myself for hell. Brace yourself; clothing is coming.

  I step out of the black town car, shove my hands in the pockets of my trench coat and peer up at the sky. It’s a full moon, and here in the low lit area, the stars are numerous. The full moon shines down, and I wonder if it’s on omen of some sort. Ifan remains in the car. I wanted him with me on this. I’m not sure what I’ll tell people about her. It’s something we need to work out together. That means only those I trust implicitly know of her arrival. I walk the grounds, scouting for anyone who shouldn’t be there. The coast is clear.

  I pace the grounds, to full of nervous energy to remain still. The sound of an airplane raises the hair on the back of my neck. After all this time, she still gets under my skin and makes my stomach drop into my boots. I wipe my palms off on my slacks and move to prop against the car, partially to hide the fact that my knees are weak and partially to fake nonchalance. There was never remaining unaffected when it came to Athena Douglas.

  THREE

  ATHENA

  I stand, ready to defend my son against whatever awaits us outside. I want to trust my father, but our ideas about what’s best for me and my son have often differed. He’d chose safety over happiness every time. To be safe against those families, he must’ve chosen someone powerful and far. My best guess is we’re somewhere in Europe or beyond. We have ties with a number of families around the world. The Russians have always worked closely with my father importing and exporting. They’ve both made money hand over fist, but they’re cold and dominating. The thought of being forced to live among them frightens me. I would be a terrible fit and stand out like a sore thumb.

  I unbuckle the seat belt.

  “Are we here?” Kier asks.

  “Yes. I need you to stay here while I meet our hosts.”

  “Where are we?”

  “I don’t know. Papa wanted to surprise us.” I’m lying. I can’t bear to tell him the truth, not yet. For now, I’ll protect my father’s memory. My stomach plummets. Is he still alive? I put a lid on the potential meltdown. I need to remain
present. I clear my throat and make the walk down the aisle I swear is miles instead of feet.

  “Are you going to let me off or is more smoke and mirrors required?” I ask Tony.

  “Now don’t be that way. We’re just carrying out orders.”

  I roll my eyes. “How many times have I heard that?”

  “Look. We both know what happens when you don’t follow your father’s words at.” I try not to look at the scar that remains on his temple. I nod my head with a grudging respect.

  “I’ve been with you since you were a girl. You think I’d deliver you to a wolf waiting to devour you?”

  “No,” I say quietly.

  “Exactly.” He unlocks the door and pushes down the step. My eyes struggle to adjust to the contrast from light to dark. The outline of a large male makes my heart race. My vision sharpens, and the bottom drops out of my world. I sway.

  “Easy.” Tony wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me upright.

  My lower lip trembles. Can it really be him? After all this time?

  “F-Fie?” I croak.

  “Yeah, honey, that’s him.” I stumble from his hold like a colt on shaky legs. Alfie pushes off the car. He’s bigger, older, and more worn. I can see the crow’s feet around his eyes and the deeper creases in his furrowed brow. I can’t read his eyes from a distance. I grip the metal handrail with both hands as I slowly make my way down the stairs. He walks forward and pauses a few feet away. I’m drowning in the blue eyes that were always the window to his tattered soul. On the ground, I freeze. His eyes are a swirling pool of emotions I can’t pin a reading on.

  I latch onto the feeling foremost in my brain: relief .We’re safe here with him. A sob creeps up into my throat, and I run toward him. He opens his arms and lifts me into the air. I cup his face with shaking hands, desperate to feel his solid form.

  “Oh my, God. It’s really you.”

  “It’s me, Thena,” he whispers. It’s that same deep, heavily accented voice. No one else could ever recreate. His arms tighten, and I cling to him, soaking up his strength and protection. I close my eyes and inhale the hints of tobacco, leather, and spices that make up Armani Code. I pull back and eye his plump pink lips. The scar above his lip is old. Probably inflicted while I watched. My stomach tightens, and guilt crashes down on me. My tongue snakes out, and I trace the white faded line, in a silent apology. Our lips crash together, and I lose myself in the taste and feel of him. He grips my hair, and I groan as he massages my scalp and tilts his head, deepening the lip lock. He always knew how to make the world stop spinning with his kiss. I whimper. He presses against my belly, thick and long.

  My lungs burn, and I pull away shaking and gasping. It’s been so long since I felt a man’s touch, and none ever affected me the way this man did. The worry, grief, and confusion sucker punch me. I shake free and shove him back. “Why? If you’re here now fine, why didn’t you ever come back for me or even contact me, huh?” I cover my mouth. Did he not want Kier? I shake my head and stumble back. He grabs my wrist and stops my retreat. “Because I couldn’t. You think I was in any position to help you? I arrived here on a ship, damn near starved to death. That locker he dumped me in was meant to be my tomb. It took me time to get back on my feet and longer still to gain power. By the time I was in a position to come get you, too much time had passed.” He shook his head.

  “I waited for you.” My voice cracks. Ashamed of my weakness, I glance at the ground. He moved to cup my face, and I swat his hand away. “You don’t have the right.”

  His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken. “You saying someone else does?”

  I open my mouth.

  “Mom.”

  Alfie glances over my shoulder and stiffens.

  His eyes dilate, and he glares down at me.

  “You kept this from me.”

  “You had no more us for me. You think I’d risk his safety and stability, not to mention his heart? No.” I shake my head.

  “You had no right.”

  “I had every right to do what I felt was best.”

  “Mom is. Is everything okay?” his voice shakes.

  I turn and nod my head. “Yes, baby. It’s fine. This.. this is Alfie. He’s –.” I trail off unsure what to say.

  “An old friend of your mothers. I knew her years ago before you were born.”

  Kier narrows his eyes, and there’s no denying the lineage.

  “You can come down, babe,” I say walking toward him, eager to put distance between myself and the man who I know wants to wring my neck. He takes family seriously. I knew it. I thought of contacting him so many times over the years and always stopped short. If I was caught, it could mean disaster for both of us. The freedom I had would be taken away, and I was convinced my father would finish the job he’d started all those years ago in my bedroom. I had no way of knowing how well he’d done across the pond.’

  And yet, he couldn’t be bothered to check in on me? My father was right. I was a passing fancy. Forbidden fruit he’d sampled and left behind. My head throbs. I clench my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. The travel, stress and emotional overload are about to knock me on my ass in the form of a migraine.

  Alfie cups the back of my neck and massages. I want to pull away, but the relief it brings is too good. I groan.

  “You’ll be staying with me for awhile here in London.”

  “London! Mom can we see where JK Rowling wrote Harry Potter.”

  I snicker. “Yes, Kier,” I say quietly.

  “Kier?” he whispers

  “Kieron.”

  “It’s a fine name,” he says thoughtfully. I don’t want his words to please me. His opinion, shouldn’t matter, and yet it does.

  “What about the boys?” I ask quietly.”

  “They’ll be heading on to another destination. I have some very detailed directions on you two.”

  “From Papa?” Kier asks.

  “Yes, he was very … specific in what he wanted. How does exploring London sound?”

  “Fun. I always wanted to come here. Do you really say Happy Christmas? Can I wear a crown on my birthday?”

  He laughs. “That we do, and you sure can, mate.”

  “Hah. Mom, he called me mate.”

  I give a watery smile as I open my eyes. “I heard, baby.”

  He frowns. “Are you seeing colors again?”

  I grit my teeth. “Not yet.”

  Alfie continues the massage. “Come, let’s get your Ma in the car and see what we can do for her, yeah? We’ll get on the road and get you guys back to the house. I imagine you’re all upside down with the time difference. It’ll take a few days to adjust.”

  Kier gives me a questioning gaze. I nod my head assenting. We’re at his mercy for the moment. It pisses me off. He knows more about what’s happening than me. What the hell was my father thinking? Did he think foisting us off on him would make up for what happened? The thought increases the headache, so I abandon them and focus on breathing deeply and trying not to become nauseous. I wrap my arm around Keri’s shoulder, keeping him close as Alfie guides us to the black town car. He opens the door, and I allow Kier to enter first before I slid in beside him. I expect Alfie to move across from us, but he doesn’t.

  He takes up all the room, and I crowd, Kier in an attempt to escape his masculinity. We have a lot of talking to do, but tonight won’t be that day. I need my wits about me and all the energy I can muster.

  “How do you know my mom?” Kier asks.

  I cringe.

  “I used to work for your … Grandfather before I decided to go into business for myself.”

  “You know Papa?” he asks excitedly.

  I force my eyelids up and meet his fiery gaze. I give a slight shake of my head and silently plead with him to bit his tongue.

  “Yes.” He says through gritted teeth. “I did a long time ago.”

  Kier relaxes assured that he must be a friend if we both know him. I lean back against the leather.


  “Do you want ibuprofen?”

  “If you have it.” He’s always kept a kit on him. I’m not surprised he has meds. I watch as he pulls out a small black shaving kit bag and digs out a white bottle. He shakes out two, and I take them and swallow them down. The rhythm of the wheels on the road and the dimness of the car start to suck me under. I’m helpless as I begin to seek into slip. Would he take Kier from me? Has he changed that much? I don’t know this man any longer. He’s not the Alfie I feel in love with anymore, and he’s upset with me.

  “Rest. It’ll take us at least two hours to get back home.” He says softly.

  Kier sighs.

  “I’m sorry, baby. We’ve been traveling for a long time I know. Maybe tomorrow e can get out and explore, stretch our legs and try something new?”

  “Can we?” He asks.

  “I’ll make sure it happens,” Alfie says. I bite the inside of my cheek. I don’t like him answering for me, or making promises. It’s not his place. I don’t give a shit what DNA says. I kiss Kier’s head. No one will take my boy from me. I fought too damn hard to keep him, and I’ve taken care of him on my own from day one.

  Alfie

  That son of a bitch. I understand exactly why he shipped them to me. Kieron is a major threat. He’s the rightful heir to the kingdom. Leaving him alive in Boston would make him a loose end. One that could eventually come back and present a problem. The Albanos and Brizzis didn’t deal in those. My shoulders tense. I’ll be damned if anyone comes for my boy or his mother. I glance at the pair of them curled together. The love between them is palpable. I want to be a part of it. I also want to shake her until her teeth rattle in her skull. Why didn’t she come to me? Why didn’t I check in on her? I spear my fingers through my hair. There’s no denying he’s mine. One look and a fool could make the connection.

  That puts him in a precarious position. I’ve made enemies. Not as many as Porter, but enough to make me proceed with caution. A son. I have a son. His dark hair has more curl than mine, but his broad forehead and square jaw are all mine. His full lips and high cheekbones belong to hit mother. He’s the color of coffee with a bit of cream and already reaches his mother’s shoulders. He’s going to be tall like me. Pride fills my chest. I want to know everything about him. I want to know his hobbies, his likes, dislikes. Is he allergic to anything? Is he a reader? He was excited about Harry Potter. There are so many questions I have and can’t answer. I’m furious with Athena for that. We have a lot of talking to do. I turn my head to peer into the darkness as I try to get my rage under control.

 

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