Love Drunk (Broken Lives Book 4)

by Marita A. Hansen

  “Nope, that tastes lousy. I’ll go to one of the cafes down the road and grab some real coffee.”

  “Fine, take the cash from the drawer in the entrance. Jade always keeps spare change in there. And if you go to that cafe with the chocolate and almond croissants, get me one.”

  An amused smile pulled at her lips. “Oh, you want a croissant, monsieur?”

  “Don’t be a smart-arse, croissants aren’t girly.”

  “Didn’t say they were, oh sensitive one.”

  “You’re a cheeky wee thing, aren’t cha?” I walked towards the door, smacking her arse along the way. I sniggered at her yelp. “Just hurry up with that coffee, or I’ll take a coupla shots of whiskey instead.”

  “Don’t you dare!” she barked.

  I turned to her, the woman giving me one hell of a stare down. “Jesus, I wuz joking.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “It didn’t sound like it.”

  “Guess you can’t read my tone either.”

  “Either way, you shouldn’t joke about your addiction.”

  “Addictions. I have more than one, but right now, all I want is coffee. So, are ya gonna stop busting my balls and get me some?”

  “As long as you stay right here until I get back,” she said, pointing to where I was standing.

  I smirked. “But what if I needa go for a slash? I know my cock’s massive, but it still can’t reach the toilet.”

  “Don’t get fresh with me, I’m not amused.”

  “Fuck, you’re hot when you get stroppy,” I said, heading for her, reconsidering my need for coffee, the woman perking me up quicker than a double shot of espresso.

  “No touching,” she said, avoiding my hands. “We’ll never get any work done if you keep at it.” She took off out of the room.

  I followed her down the stairs, grinning as she glanced over her shoulder. She stopped at the front door and turned to me, prodding my nose with her finger. “Stop right there, Dante, I’m serious. Stop playing with me.”

  “I’m not playin’, I just want the newspaper,” I said, running my hand over her hip, definitely playing.

  She smacked it away. “Then keep your hands to yourself, Fabio.”

  I laughed. “Fabio? I’m way hotter than that dude.”

  A small smile played on her lips. “Yes, you are.” She spun on her heel and headed out the door.

  “You forgot the money,” I called out.

  She made an embarrassed sound and quickly ran back inside, grabbing a handful of money from the entrance drawer. She took off again, ignoring my laughing. I followed her down the footpath, stopping at the mailbox as she continued down the road. She glanced back, poking her tongue out at me. I laughed again, and blew her a kiss. She stopped and pretended to catch it, placing her hand over her heart.

  “You’re not just stroppy!” I called out, grinning like a loon. “You’re soppy as fuck!”

  “Only for you!” she yelled back.

  With a smile, she continued on her way. I watched her for a bit, the woman having a fantastic arse, her lilac skirt hugging it perfectly. Halfway down the road she stumbled, almost falling over. Chuckling, I shook my head at how clumsy she was, and opened the mailbox, finding the newspaper and a wrapped parcel. I removed them and headed back inside, entering the lounge. Murderer, or whatever persona he was today, was sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV.

  I sat down on the chair across from him, grateful that at least he had his clothes on. “All fucked out, Murderer?” I asked.

  He glared at me. “I’m not that bastard.”

  “Killer?”

  He nodded, his expression turning sad. “Why aren’t I enough for your dad?”

  “Dude, he’s working, not cheating on you, so don’t get all wound up. You know he’s a whore, has been since the dawn of time.”

  “I want him to quit.”

  “He will... when he’s pushing up daisies.”

  Killer swore. “I’m sick of sharing him. Why can’t I have him all to myself? He claims he loves me, so he should at least show it.”

  “Fuck, if he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t be ’ere. You put him through way more shit than he puts you through, ’specially with your psycho side. Not many people, if any, would put up with Murderer. And last night wuz the first time I’ve heard him gettin’ on with that cunt. Be grateful for that.”

  Killer exhaled. “Yeah, at least that’s a relief. Still, I hated that my cock wuz inside that li’l twat Jade.” He sneered. “I like men, not a pathetic excuse for one.”

  “Murderer would’ve only done Jade to be near my old man. I don’t get why all your personalities have a hard-on for him. He’s a dirty cunt.”

  Killer clicked his tongue. “That’s why I love him. He’s raw, the real deal, so bloody perfect no man can compare to him. Just thinking ’bout him makes my balls tingle—”

  I sniggered, “That’s called syphilis.”

  Killer ignored my joke, seemingly lost in thought about my dad. A smile pulled at his lips, his hazel eyes sparkling. “Tane is pure paradise in bed, my own personal nirvana. That body of his... mmmh, he really knows how to use it, ’specially his cock. It feels incredible inside of—”

  “Oi!” I snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t talk that shit with me. He’s my dad.”

  “He’s my dad,” Killer mimicked. “You sound like a li’l kid sayin’ that.”

  “No, I sound like a grossed-out son not wanting to hear ’bout how his dad fucks. If anything, I already know how he fucks. He could never shut his trap while having sex. You don’t know what it wuz like bein’ in the room next to his when I wuz a kid.”

  “Wish I did. I would’ve loved to be you as a kid. I would’ve wacked off to just his voice. Nah, I would’ve crawled into his bed every night.”

  I stared at him, utterly disgusted. “If you were me, that would make him your dad, you sick fuck.”

  Killer cackled. “Incest. A game the whole family can play.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? No, don’t answer that, you’re just as fucked in the head as Murderer.”

  “Nah, no one’s that fucked. One time after your dad turned Murderer down, tellin’ him to go fuck himself, the freak did.”

  “So what? Everyone wanks off.”

  Killer shook his head. “He didn’t wank himself, he put his dick in his own arse.”

  “Bullshit,” I scoffed. “Dick’s don’t bend that way.”

  “When you have an anaconda they do, plus half the club can testify to it.”

  “What do ya mean by that?”

  “Murderer filmed himself doin’ it, then spliced it together with some of mine and Tane’s homemade porn. He then swapped the film the club wuz meant to watch on movie night, playin’ his revenge porn to get back at Tane for turning him down. Jasper managed to stop it from playin’, but the damage wuz already done. Your dad wuz humiliated. That’s why he disappeared the year before last. If Ash didn’t get kidnapped, I don’t think he would’ve returned.”

  “Fuck,” I said, now understanding why my old man went AWOL for months. “Why am I only just hearing ’bout this now? I wuz told ’bout the gun incident, but not this.”

  “Jasper quashed it. He said that if anyone spoke of it, he would slice or burn their insignia off,” Killer said, referring to our club’s tattoo. “And Jasper doesn’t make empty threats.”

  I nodded, knowing perfectly well what Jasper was capable of.

  Killer continued, “Both the prez and vice prez backed Jasper up. Li’l difference it made. Tane still refuses to return to the club, said Murderer ruined it for him. It’s why I’m surprised he’s even talkin’ to him, let alone having threesomes.”

  “I’d say he’s doin’ it for you.”

  “He shouldn’t hafta. I should be doin’ sumpthin’ for him.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m considering goin’ back on my meds.”

  “You mean the ones that make Murderer disappear?�
��

  “And unfortunately Pain too. She’s the only reason why I haven’t done it sooner. Your dad loves her.”

  “Not as much as he loves you.”

  Killer’s expression turned hopeful. “You reckon?”

  I nodded. “For sure. He talks ’bout you way more than Pain. His love for her doesn’t compare to his love for you. He’d give her up in a second just to have you alone. No Murderer. No Pain. Just you.”

  Killer smiled, his eyes sparkling once more. A cry of “Yes!” wiped the smile right off his face. Another cry ripped through the air, Jade sounding like he was in heaven, my dad unfortunately good at his job.

  Killer clenched his hands, looking like he wanted to smash Jade’s mouth in. “That li’l prick has had his money’s worth ten times over, he’s not gettin’ a second longer.” He jumped to his feet and stormed out of the room, thumping up the staircase. “That’s it!” he hollered. “No more! Tane’s mine!”

  I shook my head. Jade wasn’t going to hear the end of this from me. I dumped the paper on the coffee table and opened the package, finding a halter top inside. I pulled it out, instantly recognising it as Kara’s. It was the one with the zipper down the front, my favourite of her tops. I put it down on the couch and picked up the envelope that had been underneath it, already annoyed with her, the bunny boiler unable to help herself. I removed a photo, freezing at the image. It was a picture of a naked Kara, spread-eagled and tied to a bed. Across the bottom of the picture it read, She’s dead unless you turn up to... An arrow pointed to the edge of the photograph. I turned it over, instantly recognising the address. It was where my old boss had lived, Craven now dead.

  But his son wasn’t.

  I jumped up and yelled out, “Dad!” running for the stairs, panic flooding me, fear filling me for Kara. Without a doubt, Ant Torres would kill her if I didn’t do as he asked. Although he was under house arrest, he was a rich bastard. The courts had finally unfrozen his assets, or more precisely, his stepmother’s assets, Talia Craven inheriting her dead husband’s estate. Which meant they had plenty of money to finance their misled revenge, what had happened to Craven not my doing. Still, Ant had a vendetta against my family, or more specifically with Ash, something that had started in high school.

  I burst into Jade’s room, finding my dad starkers and about to enter an equally butt-naked Killer. Jade was sitting in the corner, with a hand wrapped around his cock, obviously getting off on watching my dad and Killer.

  “Stop that now!” I shouted at my dad.

  “Get the fuck outta ’ere, you shithead!” he yelled back, looking like he could strangle me.

  I thrust the photo of Kara in front of his face. “Ant’s kidnapped Kara. He’ll kill her if I don’t go to his house.”

  Dad swore and jumped off the bed, swiping up his leathers. I barked at Jade to make sure that Clara stayed with him when she got back, the guy nodding his head vigorously. In no time, my dad and Killer were dressed and running down the stairs behind me, heading for my car. I climbed behind the wheel, while my dad took the seat next to me. Killer got into the back. Before I’d even pulled away from the kerb, he was loading his gun, the way he was doing it suggesting Murderer had taken over.

  28

  Clara

  Carrying two coffees in a cardboard tray and a couple of croissants in a paper bag, I walked briskly, more interested in getting back to Dante than enjoying the beautiful scenery. And it was beautiful, the view of the Auckland Harbour stunning. The sun was weaving patterns across the crystal blue waters while brightening the sails of the moored yachts. The motorway cut across everything via the Auckland Harbour bridge, the vehicles driving over it looking like toy cars.

  As I drew closer to the house, a car pulled up alongside me. I glanced to my left, almost dropping the coffee and croissants at the sight of Simon. He climbed out of his Mercedes Benz, making me back up towards the gate.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said, feeling nervous as hell, if not a touch sick, what he’d done... I did a little shake, upset at the memory. “And how did you even know I was here?”

  “I took a guess you were with...” He winced and placed a hand on his stomach, looking like he was in a lot of pain, Ash obviously having worked him over hard.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, not knowing what else to say, although I just wanted him to leave.

  He shook his head. “I got bashed by your boyfriend, but no one believes me.” He inhaled and exhaled, then straightened a bit. “But that’s not why I’m here. Georgie got attacked last night.”

  My eyes widened. “What?!”

  “A friend found her unconscious this morning in your flat.”

  “Oh, God, no, no, no, please tell me she’s all right.”

  He shook his head, his face twisting with sorrow. “It doesn’t look good, they’re afraid she might not make it.”

  Panicked, I spun on my heel and ran up the path, yelling, “Dante!” as I entered the house. I dumped the coffee and croissants on the hallway cabinet, and rushed into the lounge to see if he was there, needing to tell him where I was going. When I didn’t see him, I rushed into the kitchen, finding no one, the backyard also empty. I ran back through the passage, and raced up the staircase, not finding him in his bedroom either. Growing more and more upset, I went to my own room to grab my wallet and keys, then practically flew down the stairs, finding Simon standing in the doorway. A second later realisation hit me.

  I’d left my car at the studio!

  Barely keeping it together, I raced outside, checking the garage for Dante’s Mustang. It was gone, Dante having broken his promise at the worst possible time. I yelled out, furious at him for taking off as well as distraught over Georgie.

  Simon ran over to me. “What are you doing? We need to go. Now.”

  “I’ll call a cab,” I said, bolting past him.

  I re-entered the house, grabbing the phone off the hallway cabinet. Simon appeared beside me, snatching it out of my hand.

  “I’ll take you,” he said. “It’ll be quicker than waiting for a cab.”

  I shook my head, reaching for the phone. “No, no, a taxi will do.”

  “Clara,” he said, moving the phone behind his back. “I didn’t mean to upset you that day, I honestly thought you said yes. And I’m also sorry for spouting off those bigoted remarks about Dante and his father. I was furious with you for calling out his name, as well as extremely jealous. But this has gone beyond jealousy, Georgie could die. She isn’t just your friend, she’s mine too. If you have to call a taxi, do it, but I can’t waste any more time waiting for you. I need to get to the hospital.” He thrust the phone at me and turned to leave.

  “I’ll come,” I blurted out, willing to put my issues aside for Georgie. “Go start the car while I lock up.”

  He took off without hesitation. I went to lock the door, but stopped at the sight of Dante’s manager exiting his room. Although he was dressed in a smart suit, he had damp hair, giving the impression he’d just gotten out of the shower.

  I called out to him, “My friend’s in hospital. Tell Dante. He’s taken off,” I said, praying it wasn’t for liquor.

  “Don’t worry, I know where he is,” Mr. Park replied, heading down the stairs. “He’s gone to the police station. His ex has been kidnapped.”

  My eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, and I hope they keep her. She’s a horrid person. Anyway, go see your friend, I’ll pass on the message.”

  “Thank you.” I turned and ran down the path to Simon’s car as the engine started up. I jumped into the front passenger seat, glancing back at the house. Mr. Park was standing in the doorway, watching me.

  “Seat belt on,” Simon said, not paying attention to Dante’s manager, his eyes only on me.

  I belted up, then we were off, heading for the hospital. Hopefully not too late.

  ***

  “Which hospital is Georgie in?” I asked, wondering why we were heading out west, which was
the opposite direction to Auckland’s main hospital as well as on the other side of town from Middleton’s one.

  “Georgie was staying with a friend in Henderson,” Simon replied. “They took her to the hospital out that way.”

  “But I thought you said she was found in my flat,” I said confused.

  He cleared his throat. “No, I said her friend’s flat.”

  “No, you said my flat.”

  He flicked me an annoyed look. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, either way, it doesn’t matter, she’s still in Waitakere Hospital. And what does it matter if I said the wrong thing? People make mistakes when they’re upset and in pain, pain caused by your boyfriend.”

  I went to say that Dante didn’t hurt him, but clamped my mouth shut, not wanting to antagonise him even more. Needing a distraction, I looked out the window at the marsh as we headed over the low-lying bridge between Avondale and Henderson. Reeds stuck out of the water, disappearing into the greater expanse of the harbour. The Auckland Harbour bridge stood proud in the distance, linking Central Auckland to the North Shore. A helicopter flew overhead, flying in the opposite direction to where we were going, the sky bright, unlike my mood.

  It wasn’t long before we neared the off-ramp to Henderson, but instead of taking it, Simon continued down the motorway.

  I glanced back at the off-ramp. “Aren’t you supposed to get off there?”

  “No, the hospital’s on Lincoln Road.”

  I nodded, Lincoln Road’s off-ramp the next one. Within no time, he was turning onto it, merging with the traffic. We passed a large supermarket on our right, its car park full. Simon continued down the road, the awkward silence between us growing more strained. I kept staring out the window, not knowing what to say to him. Relief hit me when I finally caught sight of the hospital. I sat up straighter, ready to jump out as soon as Simon parked, but to my surprise he continued driving.

  I turned to him. “You drove past the hospital.”

  “I was asked to pop into Georgie’s friend’s house to pick up some of her stuff.”

  “We can do that afterwards.”

  He continued on, turning left onto Great North Road. “Her friend was adamant Georgie needed these things.”