by Stacy Gail
“What happened today?” The caresses of his mouth over the old wounds never faltered, even as he spoke. She felt the intimate whisper of his breath as each word broke over her imperfect skin.
“Ghosts from the past.”
“What ghosts?”
She had to swallow twice before her too-tight throat would allow her to speak. “I got a call this morning. From… from my father.”
“Okay.” He had made it to her wrist now. With great deliberation, he stroked the spot with his tongue, then kissed it in an almost chaste manner, as if trying to kiss the old hurt better. “Is this the first time you’ve heard from him since you became estranged?”
“It’s the first time they’ve reached out to me.” She could never admit how often she’d been hung up on when she’d tried to reach out to them. It took her near-death experience to make her see she only hurt herself by holding on to people who wished she was dead. That was the saddest, most devastating knowledge she held in her heart, but the pain of it had at long last convinced her to let them go. “They kicked me out of their lives when I was at my lowest. I thought I’d never see or hear from them again. I didn’t even want to, after all this time. I no longer miss being a part of a family. I’ve stopped thinking about them every minute of every day. It’s taken me years to adjust to the reality that my own family hates me, but I’ve finally gotten used to… I don’t know. Being alone. Not relying on those supposedly permanent familial pillars that hold up a person’s life. Or maybe I’ve just become numb to it.”
The arm around her tightened. “That’s a hell of a thing to get used to.”
“But I did it. Or I thought I had, until today.” The determination it had taken to survive through the worst of it had shown her just how strong she truly was. That was something she had to hold onto now, when she was in danger of being flattened all over again. “It’s still hard to believe that after years of silence, my dad suddenly called out of the blue.”
“Yeah? What the hell did he want?”
Confused, Becks studied him as bristling aggression poured off of him in waves. How weird. Unless she was seeing things, Payne appeared to be getting pissed off on her account. “They saw something about my art on television. Apparently I shouldn’t have the right to continue on with life after…” She shuddered, unable to go any further. The pain was back in all its grief-stricken glory. It cut her heart into shreds, bleeding her into a kind of stupefied undeath. “At first it seemed like my dad wanted to congratulate me on making a name for myself with my art. That surprised me as much as the call itself, because no one had ever paid attention to my art when I was at home.”
“Real supportive environment you grew up in, huh?” His sarcasm was thick enough to taint the air. “I take it that congratulating you was the last thing on his mind?”
“Pretty much.”
“What’d he say?”
Becks swallowed hard against the very real fear that she might suddenly throw up. “According to my dad—or Martin, I suppose I should say, since he says he’s no longer my father—putting myself on display was both conceited and selfish. They can’t stand to hear my name, even though I only use my nickname on my art, not my full legal name.”
“Fuck him.” The words shot out of him like bullets. “What the hell is his malfunction?”
In all honesty, Becks had wondered that about her father’s mental outlook for years, long before her brother had died. He’d always been a cold man, an unloving man. Justin’s death had simply uncorked the hate-fueled genie lurking within. “All I know is that apparently I’ve already put them through enough stress for one lifetime, and now I’ve added to it by becoming a success. I can never make anything up to them,” she added honestly while the world around her blurred. To her horror, the tears she’d thought were all cried out fell once more. “But I can try, and that’s why I’m here now. If I can make their life any easier, I’ll do it by trying to pull the art you bought from me.”
He was quiet a moment before he nodded once, as if coming to a decision. “They don’t deserve to have such a good daughter. Though from the sound of it, they don’t have you as their daughter anymore,” he added, and his words were edged with razor-sharp steel. “If they want nothing to do with you, then they should have the balls to stand by that goddamn decision and actually have nothing to do with you. End of story.”
Obviously he didn’t get that the reminder of her existence brought her parents pain. “My actions—”
“Are your actions and yours alone. Emphasis on alone. From the sound of it, that’s how these assholes left you in this world,” he added when she hissed in frustration when he kept talking over her. “For whatever reason, they chose to turn their backs on you and left you to fend for yourself.” He lifted her wrist to his mouth once more. “I take it that was what pushed you to this?”
Memories flooded in like a killing tidal wave. The grief and hopelessness, the loneliness, the terror that she’d starve or that she’d have to live on the streets when she was in so much physical agony and incapable of defending herself. If Claire hadn’t taken her in those first few weeks, then Herb Janek taking pity on her, she would have died long ago. “It was the final straw.”
“They give you up like you’re nothing, yet now they dare to interfere with you once you’ve become a success? No fucking way are they going to be allowed to do that,” he gritted, and the anger grinding behind the words was startling in its heat. “They might be able to kick you out of their will, family parties and strike you off their Christmas card list, but they don’t get to do this. They don’t have the right to waltz into a world that you’ve created for yourself, by yourself, just so they can fuck it all up. They got a problem with your hard-won triumphs? Fuck those petty little bitches. Being estranged from you was their choice. Now they have to live with it.”
To her shock, she found she could still smile. “I wish I could be so cavalier about it.”
“You can. Change your number and make it private. Put yourself out of their reach.”
A spasm of alarm wiped out her momentary mirth. “I… I don’t know if I could do that. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve kept that line of communication open for them all these years for a reason. If they ever need to get a hold of me—”
“They’ve proven they won’t get in touch with you out of a miraculous change of heart. The only reason they reached out to you today was because they wanted to hurt you.”
“They did a good job of it.” But strangely, that hurt was lessening. An hour ago she’d been a twisted-up mess, convinced the fragile life she’d built for herself was crumbling down around her ears. But as she leaned against him, his words chased away the sick dread and grinding helplessness that had suffocated her after her father’s call. It was as if Payne had some kind of magic touch in helping her find a clearer perspective. She’d like to think she would have eventually calmed down enough to discover that perspective on her own, but there was no denying he’d helped her.
In a world where she’d learned that no one could be relied upon, not even family, Payne’s help was like finding an oasis in the middle of a never-ending desert.
“Look at it this way,” he said when the silence stretched out. “Life is hard enough without having to worry about your parents walking in through this wide-open backdoor you’ve left in your defenses, right? Normally I’m respectful of family ties, because when my mom was alive, she was everything to me. But since you obviously come from a very different kind of family, this backdoor has to be slammed shut, locked up and boarded over. You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
Her parents would beg to differ on that point. “You haven’t answered whether or not you’re willing to sell my art back to me.”
“In a way I have. Your art is now being recognized as innovative, revolutionary and cutting-edge, and not just by me. I’m going to make sure House Of Payne gains all the more fame because of your unique artistic genius. I’ll be damned if I’m going
to let some small-minded jackass come along and fuck up all my plans now.”
A flicker of panic over her parents’ reaction to more publicity flared, but it faded under a surge of surprising warmth. It was such a foreign sensation she didn’t immediately recognize it as that long-dormant thing called hope. “Then I suppose I haven’t heard the last from them.”
“You don’t have to deal with them if you won’t want to. No one should have to fend off attacks from their own parents.”
“I doubt I’ll be given a choice.” But now that she’d talked things out, she felt stronger about it. Yes, hearing from her family had pulled the rug out from under her. Oh hell, yes. But it didn’t have to cripple her. It was up to her to keep her shit together, and she would. She’d made it too far down the road of self-reliance to let something like this trip her up now. “But that’s not your problem, it’s mine. I’ll handle it if and when it happens.”
“There’s no reason you should do this alone.”
“My family, my problem.”
“If they show up again to bitch about publicity, send them to me.” There was a hard light in his eyes, and for a moment Becks almost felt sorry for anyone who stood in this man’s way. Now she saw the reason why House Of Payne was the pinnacle of the tattooing world. A man like Payne wouldn’t accept anything less. “I’mthe one who owns your art. I’m looking forward to pointing out who the fuck is in charge on this matter, and it sure as hell isn’t them.”
Chapter Seven
“Was it my imagination, or was your office manager trying not to blow up at you for leaving work early?”
“I think it’d be more accurate to say Scout was trying her best not to commit justifiable homicide right there on the spot.”
“Scout,” Becks repeated, so thoughtfully Payne glanced over at her in the passenger’s seat. “Is she named after the little girl in To Kill a Mockingbird?”
“No, though that’s a good guess. Scout has a great many talents, but her greatest of all is her far-seeing ability to scout out potential trouble. I can’t tell you how many times House Of Payne would have fallen by the wayside if it hadn’t been for her uncanny intuition.” It was Scout who had first insisted that he approach the wealthy father of his then-girlfriend, Monique, to fund House Of Payne. It had been one hell of a difficult time back then, made that much more stressful when it was clear Monique had problems that he simply couldn’t fix. But thanks to Scout’s unflagging support, he’d forged ahead with his business proposal to Frank Bournival, even as he broke things off with the man’s daughter. Somehow it had all worked out for the best.
For the most part, anyway.
As Payne pulled into the Willis Tower’s parking garage, his thoughts had him again looking at Becks. To his relief, that terrifying aura of fragility had vanished along with her red eyes and deathly pallor. She was such a fighter, so quick to stand up for her art whenever he tried to push her to see how far she would allow him to go. Before today he’d never imagined her spirit could be dented, much less crushed. But he supposed family had the inside track when it came to knowing where all the sore points were.
A surge of rage tried to escape, and with an effort, he wrestled it back down. Fury over how she’d been treated wouldn’t help. He didn’t know the details of what split Becks from her family, but he knew real family didn’t pull crap like that. Real family stuck together. His mother had always been there for him, no matter what kind of shit he’d gotten into. Hell, she’d given him the green light on most of the risks he’d ever taken, and she’d cheered him on all the way.
Too bad Becks’s parents seemed to be the exact opposite.
The deep scars on her wrist flashed before his eyes, and his hands tightened on the wheel. Thanks to the people who were supposed to love her the most, she’d been crippled to the point where she hadn’t wanted to live anymore. God help them if he ever came face to face with them. He’d break them over his fucking knee and not feel a shred of remorse. He remembered the first time he had seen Becks, the night of House Of Payne’s launch party and the night he’d pulled her from her burning car. From that moment he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind, this woman who had been so broken and bloody and whose talent was so awe-inspiring it staggered him.
A hot ball of anger clenched in his gut at the thought of the trauma she’d already endured in her life, trauma he could now see threading through her many works of art. There was nothing he could do about the past. It sucked, but he had to accept that.
But he could sure as hell do something about her future.
Starting now.
“So,” he said after they’d exited the car and the key had been handed over to the valet, “ready to relax and have some fun?”
“I’m always ready to have fun, though I feel I should apologize to Scout.” Becks shrugged when he raised his brows. “You didn’t have to take me out just because I’m having a craptastic day.”
“I wanted to take you out, and part of Scout’s job is dealing with not just my crazy schedule, but my even crazier whims.” Though he didn’t want to think about the hell his assistant would have to wade through in order to reschedule the magazine shoot and the webcast spot. Knowing Scout, she’d get her revenge by rescheduling them on his birthday or just when he was about to go on vacation. “She’s been with House Of Payne since it was a dinky little hole in the wall. I’m the guy who produces and procures the art, has the vision of what the House should be and makes sure the money keeps rolling in. Scout manages the minutia that makes it all run like a well-oiled machine.”
“I could never get my crazy hair to look as awesome as hers.” As they entered the massive lobby and skirted the crowds of tourists lining up for the Skydeck, she slid him an oblique glance. “Are you two a couple?”
“I never would have kissed you if we were.” He flashed his Members Only fob at the uniformed person manning a discreet podium, then passed the fob before a scanner at an elevator where no tourist had ever set foot. “I’m as unattached as a man can be. What about you? I didn’t get a clear answer on a boyfriend status before, so I’ll ask again. Is there any competition I need to chase off?”
“Chase off?” Her eyes widened as she leaned against the corner of the deserted elevator. He couldn’t tell if it was because of his audacity or the fact that the express elevator suddenly rocketed upwards. “My, my. Aren’t you a bold one?”
“This is just now occurring to you?”
“Not exactly. I continually have to stop myself from saying you must have monster-sized balls to get away with all that swagger you’ve got going on.”
“I don’t swagger. I’m so naturally good at what I do, I don’t have to.”
Her laugh punched him in the gut with a velvet fist. “Wow, you didn’t really just say that, did you?”
“Absolutely. And I specifically recall that you did bring up the subject of my balls when you first came to my office.”
“Yes, but I didn’t delve into the subtext of the sheer size of them. I stopped myself, and I deserve a pat on the back for my restraint. And is this conversation being recorded on some CCTV or something? Because that would be embarrassing.”
“This is a private elevator. Those who have access to it pay an obscene amount of money in annual dues to make sure it stays that way.” He leaned his hands on the walls beside her head and breathed in that lush scent of hers—sex and tropical flowers and moonlit darkness all rolled into one. A helpless groan almost escaped him when desire flared to urgent life, pooling like lava in his groin while every nerve insisted he’d die if he didn’t at least touch her. “And you still didn’t answer my question. Who do I have to chase off to get you all to myself?”
“No one.” Her gaze fell to his lips, and the simmering hunger that poured into those dark, soulful eyes made his lips tingle with invisible fire. “No one’s interested in me.”
“Then Chicago must be a city filled with idiots and eunuchs.” He licked his lips to quell the almost-t
angible sensation of her fixated gaze. His chest filled with a surge of hunger when her teeth bit down on her lower lip. Good God, what a beautiful sight she was. More than his next breath, he wanted those teeth to sink into his lips, his neck, even his cock, if she was careful about it. “I’m no idiot, and I sure as hell am no eunuch. So just in case I haven’t made my intentions perfectly clear, here it is. I’m interested in you. And I don’t share. So if you’ve got a problem with that, or if exclusivity isn’t the kind of thing you’re looking for, you need to let me know right now.”
“So you won’t waste any more time on me?”
“No.” He lowered his head until he could feel her shallow breath feather over his mouth. He tormented them both by hovering there, refusing to fulfill the need raging through him. “So I can do everything in my power to persuade you to take me on, and do things my way.”
“Payne.” She whispered his name with a kind of reverence, as though he mattered to her. She slid her hands past the open edges of his jacket to curl around his suspenders. When she began to reel him toward her, he’d never been happier to be caught. “I’m persuaded.”
A fierce rush of triumph filled his world. His head spun with it while his heart pounded like he’d just won an epic battle. The last hint of distance separating their mouths vanished even as the sensation of slowing to a stop made his stomach drop and his feet glue themselves to the floor. He was so lost in the crazy reactions Becks dragged out of him that it took him a second to realize the elevator had come to a stop. Dazedly he lifted his head as the doors whispered open to the warm golden and wood tones of the virtually deserted Metro Club. To his amazement, he was so wrapped up in Becks, it took him a second to remember why they were there.
