Winner

by Belle Brooks

“Have a good day, and, Rance, no using the limo to score chicks to occupy your day. You’re responsible for this kid.”

  “Damn straight I will be using the limo to score hot chicks. Don’t worry, though, I’ll keep Al safe … won’t I, Al?” His voice echo’s when he yells to me, no longer in my line of sight.

  I jolt when the door slams.

  Shaking my head, I take a couple of deep breaths in preparation for a conversation I’m not even sure Tessa will be ready for or happy to have.

  “Well, Finlay, I’m going to go bathe, and then I think I might lie out on the deck for a bit and read. It’s beautiful outside today.”

  “I’m sure it is.” My tone shakes. I’m uneasy, and Tess must realise there’s a problem because her lips purse and her hand places onto the back of mine now resting on the breakfast bar.

  “Don’t look so serious.” She sits. “You’re a man with a big future in front of you, and you do good, Fin, so much good.” Her eyes narrow with her risen cheeks. Although Tess hasn’t aged well, her smile is still as beautiful as ever.

  “We need to talk, Tess. I need to talk,” I blurt out.

  She pauses, and her smile vanishes.

  “Can we talk?”

  “Always.” She drags her oxygen tank under the stool. “What’s wrong?”

  “You know how when …” I stop and momentarily close my eyes, thinking back to the day I came to be in Tess’s care. I remember her comforting hand folding over my small sausage fingers, and her eyes, which were a vibrant blue back then. I swear they sparkled like a diamond being struck by a beam of sunlight.

  “Hi, little tyke. Don’t be scared. I want to care for you. I will make everything better, I promise. I’ll never leave you. So how about you tell me what your name is?”

  “Fin.” I was petrified until those eyes sparkled, and then I wasn’t scared anymore. Not even a bit.

  “Finlay, what’s wrong?”

  “Huh?”

  “Where did you go in your head?”

  “The stairs. The stairs where I first met you. Yellow sundress and white heels ... That’s what you were wearing.”

  Tessa’s lip quivers for a split second until she sucks it between her teeth. “You owe me nothing, Finlay, nothing—”

  “I owe you everything, Tess. You saved my life.”

  “No. I was there merely as a guide.”

  “Tess, I want to care for you. I will make everything better, I promise. I’ll never leave you.”

  Tessa’s eyes fill with liquid. Not a drop spills.

  “I want to get you a nurse. Someone to keep you safe, comfortable, and company. I know you’re still independent now, but for how long will you be?”

  A single teardrop rolls down either cheek. “I’ll be fine,” she croaks.

  “You need this. Let me do this for you, Tess. Please.”

  A single bob of her head—it’s all she offers me in answer before standing with a slight hunching of her shoulders. Her oxygen tank rolls behind her as she puts distance between us, and I wish I’d told Tessa how much what she did for me meant before today.

  “I’m sorry you’re sick, Tess,” I whisper for my ears only.

  Two calls to the hospice nursing service they offer in this community, and I’ve secured a nurse by the name of Caterina. I’m assured she is best suited for Tessa’s needs and will assist Tess just how I require. I’m feeling accomplished when I decide to take to the driveway by foot and wander down to check the mailbox for the first time today. There will be no mail since barely anybody knows I live here, and the people who do wouldn’t send mail. However, the thought of maybe getting a closer glimpse of the auburn beauty who is continuously playing on my mind keeps my feet moving.

  There’s a small slope before I reach the gate, and once over this hump, I hear a man and a woman talking. I hurry the last few steps, then try not to be obvious as I check them out. But I can’t get a good view from behind the bush, so I straighten my spine and stare blatantly.

  Long flowing auburn locks fall farther than halfway down her back. They’re not curly, yet also not straight. A yellow sleeveless blouse, a tight skirt hugging her shapely arse ending just below her knees, and heels higher than I think I’ve ever seen on a woman wrap around her feet. I’m captivated. It’s her. It must be.

  Clearing my throat has her spinning away from the gentleman who has silver hair and is wearing a navy suit—that’s all I can see due to her frame blocking my view.

  “Rose.” I breathe. I’m drawn to her like a moth to light. My eyes fix on her plump stained lips.

  She makes her way without hesitation towards me. It’s only a smile, yet it has my heart pumping wildly. Her lips part and she speaks my name. It’s one word, and if my eyes weren’t glued to her mouth I swear I wouldn’t have heard it. My heartrate escalates tenfold. I never expected to have such a reaction being this close to Rose again. How did I not realise it was her when I saw her through the window? She stands close, her sweet scent is overpowering, and her skin glows. She renders me speechless.

  “Mr Finlay Crossley. Are you stalking me? It seems as though you might be, sir.”

  My tongue is tied because no matter how hard I try to respond, nothing is happening.

  “What brings you to my neighbourhood?”

  She’s more beautiful than I remember her to be.

  Five. Four. Three. Two. One. It’s as if my brain counts backwards internally, trying to help me process words to speak.

  “Are you okay?” Her lips stretch in a smile as her head tilts sideways. Is she sizing me up or is she curious? What’s going on here? “I’ll give you a moment, shall I?”

  “Hi.” I finally manage to say something.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this your …” I point towards the gate beside mine.

  “Yes. This is my house. Well, technically, it’s my parents’ house. However, I live here. I’m assuming you knew this.”

  “Well, no.” I wrap my hand to the back of my neck and squeeze tight just to ensure I’m still living. I feel the pressure, so I’m pretty sure I am.

  Her thin eyebrows dip inwards.

  “I didn’t know you lived here. I’m being honest.”

  “So, you’re not stalking me. That clears one thing up.”

  “No. I’m not.” But am I? I’ve spied on her in her private space at night. That is the definition of what a stalker does, I believe.

  “Good.” Her smile is so beautiful.

  “I just moved in here on Friday.”

  “What?” Her eyes grow wide. “What do you mean you moved in here?”

  “I honestly had no idea you lived next door, I promise.”

  “You cannot be serious.” She’s short and very rude in how she speaks to me. It’s a quick twist on her heel and Rose stomps away.

  “Okay.” Before I press this one word from my throat she’s gone.

  What the fuck was that about?

  “Daddy, Daddy,” she calls.

  Where is he? I can’t see either of them now.

  “I think you should definitely have the tree trimmed back. I’m going inside.” I hear Rose say.

  For a short while I listen to the heavy clumping sound of her heels meeting the pavement of her drive, but it grows more quiet and distant until it can’t be heard any longer. What was her problem? Rose went from hot to cold in seconds. A sweet Cinderella to a mega bitch. What the fuck did I do?

  “Finlay. What are you doing here?” He’s got swagger as he approaches me. “I thought it was you. I see you’ve already pissed my daughter off. What were you discussing anyway?”

  “Mr Horton.” Oh fuck off, he’s Rose’s father? She just called him Daddy. He just referred to her as his daughter. Can this day get any worse?

  “Don’t tell me, you’re here to beg for your job back at the steel mill and you thought you’d try to sweet talk my precious Roselette? The answer is no. Get out of here. Trash like you doesn’t belong in these parts.” He has such a smug look p
lastered across his face, I want to wipe it away, but I refrain. “Why are you standing there?”

  “I’m not here for my job back. I hope you feel guilty about what happened to Alan.” I don’t know why I say this. The thought wasn’t even on my mind, yet my tongue spoke it.

  “This is not my problem. You were given superiority and couldn’t supervise, so the onus is on you.”

  “Come on, man, he lost his fucking leg.”

  “He was a young piece of white trash anyway, with no future prospects in life, so I don’t believe he’s any more limited than he originally was.”

  My fists squeeze tightly by my sides, and the vision of blood running out of Mr Horton’s nostrils has me wanting to smack him square in the nose until he bleeds profusely. I don’t. Instead, I grind my teeth and stare him straight in the eyes. “Listen here, you prick. I did nothing wrong. However, I’ll be seeing you around, neighbour.”

  He clears his throat and exaggerates his smug expression. “Don’t mess with me, son. You hear?”

  “I probably have more money than you now, so all I’ve left to say is you can suck my …” Turning, I leave him to conclude what it is he can suck. What an arsehole. Great! The fucking Hortons are my neighbours. Maybe this is why the puny little runt Haldon thought this humorous on the day I claimed the keys. “Arsehole,” I spit softly.

  Chapter Ten

  It’s been one week since the talk I had with Rose, in my driveway, which resulted in her storming off. I still have no clue as to why one minute Rose was kind, polite, and relaxed in my company, and the next she was a mega fucking bitch filled with fire and fury. It’s been playing on my mind and I keep asking myself, why?

  The clicking of poker chips again has me focusing. I look at my stack towered high in a neat pile and I feel victorious. Well, I’d feel more victorious if I could win a bloody hand against Tessa. The poker table is green velvet—Professional markings. I’ve always dreamt of playing on something like this. Now it’s a reality because I own it.

  Tessa has been bluffing like a pro all night, and when I think I have her figured out and believe she’s not holding a single card of value in her hand, I up the ante.

  “Double or nothing.” I’m cocky. I’m in control.

  Tessa’s lips stretch wide and her eyes narrow.

  One by one the boys fold. Chicken shits. But, not Tessa, she just stares at me like I’m made of glass and she can see right through me.

  “Call.” She laughs.

  She won’t be laughing when I lay down my three kings. Mr Spade. Mr Club. And Mr Diamond.

  “Go on then, Fin. Show me what you’ve got.”

  “Wrong move, old lady.”

  “We’ll see.” Her smile stretches wider.

  I lay the cards against the felt and puff out my chest. I smell victory, sweet, sweet victory.

  “That all you got, youngin?”

  “Oh, fuck off.” I groan.

  That snaky woman throws down a King high flush. Bright red hearts. The only king I don’t have is Mr Heart, but Tessa does. Along with his bitch wife Queen. His son Jack. And Jack’s piss weak brothers, ten and nine. My mouth drops open. I’m staggered by her lucky streak. Tessa scoops up the pot with a wicked cackle.

  How does she do it?

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but that’s me done for the night. Tess has us raked over the barrel. Hope you enjoyed the ass whopping, Rance, Tardo, Blocker and what about you, Sailor?”

  They all groan.

  “That’s what I thought.” I stand. “I hope you enjoyed playing with my money, Tess. Something tells me you wouldn’t have been so Gung-ho without it.”

  She laughs in response.

  “Glad you’re finding it funny, Tess.”

  “Oh, I am. Nice doing business with you, boys.”

  “Card shark.” Rance huffs.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you my secrets,” Tessa says.

  “Whatever.” Blocker shakes his head.

  “Night all.” I’ve had enough.

  Turning in for the evening has my mind racing. As I lie down on my bed every thought seems to be worse than the last, but none more so than the fact the Hortons are my new neighbours. What are the odds of something like this happening? One billion to one? Even more unlikely is the fact the mystery woman, the one I watch undress from my window at night, turns out to be the same one who saved my hide from a burning wreckage … she’s also the spawn of the devil himself … Horton. Prick.

  I climb off my bed and walk straight for the blind. I need to see her. I don’t hesitate to pull the cord.

  Rose stands without a single piece of clothing covering an inch of her skin, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight. She’s a goddess, and in my mind I’ve created a world where Rose waits for me like this in the hopes I’m watching her … drinking her in. I enjoy the rush this thought provides.

  “Show me, baby. Turn around and show me all of you.” I groan as she moves freely, her breasts bouncing only slightly as her hands shift to the back of her neck.

  My heart’s racing. My boxers tent from the strain of my erection. What I wouldn’t give to run my tongue down Rose’s neck.

  A shadow is cast behind her. She tips her chin. The shadow grows larger. She’s not alone. And when she turns her head back over her shoulder, I see a suited man closing in from behind.

  “Motherfucker.” I growl. “Why does he have to be there?”

  I close the blind with speed.

  I march toward the shower.

  Fuck this day.

  Running my fingers through Roxie’s hair, I hate that I haven’t seen Rose in person for the entirety of this last week, yet I’ve enjoyed watching her undress for me every night through her window. I know I’m invading her privacy, but I’m addicted to everything Rose. The way in which she moves. Her gentle and seductive undressing methods. Everything about her.

  I’m extra edgy this morning because last night was the first time her male suitor returned to the bedroom.

  Why am I so consumed with this woman? I’ve all the money in the world and yet I pine for the touch of her skin.

  Taking another slurp of hot coffee, I fiddle with the cufflinks at my wrists. Who would’ve thought I’d be wearing a suit? Not me. But, when Banter finally called to offer me the meeting he said could be arranged, I knew I needed to buy a suit.

  The doorbell chimes, and I throw back the dregs of my drink before straightening and then tightening my tie. I immediately experience a suffocating vice-like grip around my neck. I fucking hate ties. But if Alan has to wear one every day to school, I best suck it up myself.

  One quick glance in the oval mirror situated in the entryway has me tapping at either side of my face with an open palm. “You can do this, Tank.”

  Knock. Knock.

  He too is fiddling with his tie when I come to answer the door.

  “Mr Crossley, you clean up well.” His silver slick locks and cleanly shaven face has Mr Banter looking a million dollars. He’s much different to the man who was casually dressed and went out of his way to introduce himself as the neighbour on the other side of me.

  “Tank. I’d rather be called, Tank.”

  “We can’t be referring to you as Tank at this meeting.” He shrugs before his arm crosses his chest and brushes along his lapel, as if he’s trying to remove lint.

  “Finlay.”

  “Yes. Finlay is much better. Don’t be nervous, son. You have everything you need to secure this land and building you so desperately wish to acquire. I’m glad we got to discussing it and I’m glad I can help you try and secure it for yourself. I’m still baffled as to why this land is what you’ve set your sights on, though. There are many other blocks much better closer to town.”

  “It’s what I want.” I’m nervous. I’ve always dreamt of working for a motorcycle company. The fact I can own my own brings me uncontrollable jitters. I need this to go well. The chance to have a place that borders both the rich and poor part
s of Hoffman is of high importance to me. There must come a time where we have a middle ground—a middle class—in this town.

  “Shall we go then, son?”

  Why do middle-aged men insist on calling everyone son? It’s annoying.

  “Son. We do need to go,” he repeats, waving his hand in front of my eyes, snapping me out of this thought.

  “After you.” I indicate for Banter to take the lead, and without hesitation, he does.

  A long, black stretched SUV is parked not far from the entry of my house. You can tell it’s an expensive piece of machinery just by the look of it. I take the step up and slide into the back. Mr Banter enters on the opposite side of me, and as soon as he’s in, we begin moving.

  “Thank you for helping me with this.”

  “What are neighbours for?”

  I nod.

  “It’s been nice having young fresh blood next door. If you hadn’t noticed most of the places around here house middle-aged men with their families, like myself.” He cocks his head. “I’m surprised someone of your wealth is looking to own a motorcycle company. Not much money in this industry.” He pauses, staring me straight in the eyes. “How did you say you made your money?”

  “I didn’t. But it was inheritance.”

  “Inheritance.” He says this in a way that tells me he doesn’t believe this to be true at all, but he allows it to drop without further questioning.

  “Yes, sir. I know there isn’t a great deal to be made and there isn’t ample profit in what I want to do, but for me this is not so much about making money, and more about staying entertained and out of trouble.”

  “Fair enough, son. We all have a business we throw money at for enjoyment. Mine is a massage lodge, just for men. You should come join sometime. Membership is quite expensive, but highly worth it.”

  “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

  “Now, tell me, have you had much of a chance to talk to the Hortons who live on the other side of you?”

  “Briefly, at the beginning of last week.”

  “They are grand friends. His three daughters are polite and well-raised. Delightful angels. Roselette, their eldest, is being courted by my only child, Slade. Between you and me, he was a much sought-after bachelor until Roselette blossomed and took his eye. Charming couple. I’m glad she’ll be there to escort my son throughout his life. She’s beautiful, and a rich man should have a stunning woman on his arm.”