Bound Beneath His Pain: A Dirty Little Secrets Novel

by Stacey Kennedy

  The next morning, I’m blinded by the bright sun when I reach the newsstand in front of Holt. On the cover of the tabloid magazine Gotcha! is a photo of Micah and me arriving at the charity event last night. He’s not looking at the camera like I am. His focus is me. Regardless of what’s going on between us, his beaming smile makes me melt a little right here on the damn street. But then I look into his smoky blue-gray eyes and his pain is evident and I’m now guessing that has something to do with what Juliet told me last night.

  My chest feels heavy when I pay the vendor for the magazine and begin flipping through the pages, quickly finding the article about us.

  Look out, ladies, Micah Holt is madly in love.

  Our sources tell us that the billionaire and his new girlfriend, Allison Parker, were giving major PDA last night!

  Warmth floods my face as I note the photo of us kissing on the dance floor. God, Micah looks as hot as he felt. My heart clenches a little seeing the way he’s holding me. His posture is protective—dominating even. Which I guess makes a whole lot of sense now. But then I read what’s written next, and a wave of coldness steals the heat on my face.

  But could this fairy tale end in disaster?

  Our sources tells us that the real estate mogul has got himself a forbidden treasure.

  I read a little more, seeing nothing further written about us, and even flip the page, finding a lipstick advertisement. First, relief settles in, and I’m thanking my lucky stars the tabloids haven’t figured out I’m Darius’s half-sister. That gives me more time to talk to Liv. But then a shiver of worry follows, descending on my spine, and I can’t stop looking at forbidden treasure, written in black ink against the shiny white page.

  Questions beginning rushing through my mind…Why would the tabloids assume that I’m a forbidden treasure? And what makes me forbidden to Micah? The fact that I’m Darius’s half-sister? I shake the questions from my mind. They don’t even know I’m Darius’s half-sister, so what in the world could that headline be about? The hair on my neck stands up, a warning going off inside me, telling me there’s something off about this. It’s an odd tidbit for them to concentrate on.

  The beeping of my phone snaps me into the present, reminding me I’m standing on the street, and the vendor is looking at me. I smile quickly at her, grab my cell from my purse, and now my heart leaps into my throat for another reason. Micah’s text.

  Come see me.

  I don’t bother firing off a text back to him. I’m beyond ready to see him today. He hadn’t called or texted me last night, or come to see me, which still surprises me a little. But at the same time, I guessed that meant he needed time to think, like I did, or maybe he was giving me the space he knew I required.

  And the distance helped. A lot.

  After I got home, I Googled Lace, but couldn’t find any mention of Micah, confirming the public doesn’t know he owns the club. I can only take that to mean there’s a good reason he keeps this part of himself a secret.

  A secret that I want to know. Now.

  Then I spent the next couple hours researching kink, which left my mind working overtime. I realized sometime between when my head hit the pillow and sleep overtook me, I couldn’t make assumptions about Micah. The kink world is huge, and it really depended where he fit into it if we could make this work. Because there wasn’t a hope in hell I’d ever do pony play, or let a guy whip me until bloody or bruised, or humiliate me.

  I’d run from him last night, too overwhelmed by emotion. Today, after a good sleep and my realizations, I’m ready to get an explanation from Micah. Or I’m hoping to, I acknowledge, as I turn away from the newsstand and enter Holt’s main doors, feeling every pair of eyes turn in my direction. I force my chin up, looking straight ahead, thinking only of Micah.

  I show my badge to the security guard, then quickly move into the elevator. Using my keycard, I hit the 61 button and then settle into the back, staying out of everyone’s way. I notice the two women in the corner whispering about me like I’m the luckiest woman in the world. I don’t feel like the luckiest woman. I feel like I’m barely treading the rough water, and soon, with very little effort from Micah, I’ll drown. Because now I don’t know my next steps. And even if I take a step, the ground feels unstable.

  Before, I never would’ve given any man so many chances. Now things are different. Maybe I’ve changed a little, or maybe’s it’s that I care about Micah now. It’s not so easy to walk away. I heave a long sigh to myself, sick of being in my damn head, when it’s only me left in the elevator and I’m nearly at the top floor. The elevator doors open, and my heart is hammering…thump, thump, thump is all I can hear with each step I take. I pass the receptionists at the main desk, taking a right toward Neil at the end of hallway.

  When I reach him, he smiles at me from behind his desk. “Mr. Holt is waiting for you. Go right in.” I turn to face Micah’s office door, seeing the blinds in his office are drawn, when Neil adds, “Oh, and Allie?” I glance over my shoulder, finding him grinning from ear to ear. “You looked absolutely stunning last night.”

  “Thanks.” I give him a small smile of gratitude then I face the open door again, forcing my racing heart to slow to a normal beat. I hold the magazine tight in my hands, entering Micah’s office, finding him sitting behind his desk, reading a document set out in front of him. “Before we talk,” I say, raising the magazine, hoping to ease us into the tense conversation ahead of us, “I think you need to look at this—”

  “Close the door,” he orders.

  And yes, it’s that, an ice-cold order.

  I do as he asks, shutting the door tight, fighting against the shake in my hand. “Okay, the door’s closed,” I say, turning to him.

  He’s reading the document for a few seconds more, and I know his intention. He’s showing me my place right now. I don’t come first, not anymore. My back stiffens straight as a pencil, when he lifts his head and leans back in his seat, looking the ever-so-powerful billionaire that he is. Those smoky eyes aren’t smoldering anymore, they’re cold and flinty. “I need your promise that what Juliet told you last night will never be spoken in public.”

  My chest squeezes, breath all but gone. “Pardon me?” I wait for him to correct himself, but he doesn’t. So I do it for him. “I think what you meant to say is, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything about me. Here’s the explanation that you deserve.”

  A heavy and thick few seconds of silence slide between us. That’s when I realize I’m looking at a different Micah today. It’s not the Micah I know. It’s not even the Micah I’d seen last night—the man running from his demons. This man is someone I’ve never met before. I decide he’s the Micah the world knows. The billionaire. The playboy. This is the man when Micah’s shields are locked up tight.

  Then he breaks the silence, arching a brow at me. “That’s what you want me to say?”

  “Of course it is,” I continue. “What I don’t want is for you to imply you can’t trust me.” I move closer to the chair in front of his desk, grasping the back, steadying myself. “So, yes, I want you to apologize for not telling me the truth, because that’s a really shitty thing to do to someone, then I want you to explain all this so I understand.”

  “I will never apologize for being myself,” he says, calm and collected. “And there’s nothing to explain. You learned who I truly am last night. There’s nothing else to add.”

  I blink, shell-shocked by his coldness. “You don’t think I deserve to be told about this other side of your life?”

  “No.” He draws in a deep breath before he finishes, “I think you deserve to be protected from it.”

  My hand tightens around the chair, digging into the leather. “You don’t need to protect me from anything.”

  “You’re wrong.” His eyes ablaze, his voice lowers. “I need to protect you from me.”

  “Because you like kinky sex,” I fire back, the world spinning a little around me, as I’m trying to find solid ground. �
�This isn’t making any sense, Micah.” Which is now scaring me, because it’s making me think the kinky sex he’s into is really sadistic stuff. But deep down, I know that can’t be true.

  I know Micah. The real Micah.

  He’s not that guy.

  “Sadly, this doesn’t have to make sense to you,” he says, coldly. “This is my decision. I refuse to take you down this dark path. It won’t end well for you.”

  “Sir.” I jump at Neil’s voice sounding through the intercom on Micah’s desk. “Mr. Bennett is on line one.”

  Micah clicks a button on the intercom. “Tell him I’ll be only a moment.” When his finger releases the button, his eyes lift to me again, fingers clasping together loosely on his desk. “I need to take this call.”

  My lungs are constricting, fighting to find air. I’m realizing, at the worst possible moment, how much I care for Micah. How much I don’t want him to end this between us. How much I want to forgive him for keeping such a big thing about himself a secret, and how much I want to understand why he never told me this. “It’s my brother,” I state, harshly. “Darius can wait.”

  One deliberate brow slowly arches. “Weren’t you the one who was adamant that you didn’t like when personal life interferes with professional life?”

  God, his voice is so cold it shatters me. “Micah, why are you doing this?”

  His expression is unreadable. There’s nothing there, no emotion at all. “We had a moment and enjoyed it. But that moment ended last night.”

  “But it didn’t—”

  “It didn’t what?”

  “It didn’t end last night, not for me.”

  He draws in a long-suffering deep breath before addressing me. “I’m not the man you think I am. I forced myself to be this other guy you wanted, to give us a shot, but the charade has to end.” He hesitates, then frowns. “Now I need to take my call. You’re dismissed.”

  “You’re dismissing me?” I ask in pure disbelief.

  Everything he’s hurting inside suddenly swells into something different, something raw. This is the guy my mother told me about. This is the guy who doesn’t give a shit about who he hurts and only cares about his own agenda. This is the guy I won’t ever let railroad me. No one—man or otherwise—can make me believe my reality is different than it is, because he doesn’t want to face his issues.

  Like wildfire attacking air, all of my heavy emotions get sucked away, leaving only fury burning in my chest. “Don’t you dare try to make me believe that what we had was some fairy tale only I imagined and you weren’t the guy I thought you were.” Emotion blazes in his eyes, but coldness sweeps over his face so fast I wonder now if I’m imagining things. “What we had was real. I was there for every second. I felt you, and I know you felt me, too.”

  He’s staring at me so hard, I’m wondering if I’m breaking through his barriers. But his shields are indestructible today. I realize, as he leans forward and clicks the intercom, he’s completely shut me out. “Miss Parker needs to be shown from my office.”

  The ground all but drops under me, and the magazine falls from of my hand, landing on the floor. I’m searching my mind to understand why he’s so quick to stop fighting for us, when Neil opens the office door.

  Micah picks up his phone and turns his back to me. “Darius. What’s up?”

  I can’t recall leaving Micah’s office or if Neil said anything to me. I can’t even remember returning to the elevator. And I certainly don’t know how I ended up in my office. But then I’m walking through the door, feeling like a ghost floating through time.

  Liv’s sitting behind her desk. “Good news,” she says. “James sent us some new clients.” She looks away from her monitor to me and her eyes go wide. “Whoa. Are you okay?”

  “I’m…” I pause, inhale deeply, and then I refuse to let emotion cloud me. “I’m fine.” I want answers. Now. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

  “Yeah, okay, sure.” She hurries out of our office, shutting the door behind her.

  I move to my desk, picking up the phone, dialing Darius’s cellphone, hoping he’s ended his call with Micah. Thankfully, he answers on the second ring. “What is the DC?” I bark at him. “How is Micah involved in it? And what the hell are you doing owning a sex club?”

  A pause.

  A long pause.

  Then my half-brother’s voice turns ice cold. “Take this as the warning it is, little sister. Stay away from things you don’t want to know.”

  The phone line goes dead.

  “Fuck.” I slam my phone down on my desk.

  Some women might hide under the blankets and cry over their broken hearts. Others might run to the tabloids and burn Micah, spilling the secrets he’s kept hidden. Maybe some women might even tuck their tail beneath their legs, hoping Micah eventually misses them so much, he finally opens his heart to them.

  Micah should already know better. I’m not that girl.

  I want answers.

  And I’m going to get them.

  —

  The full moon is glowing in the night sky when I exit the cab with Liv, staring at the sign, O’Keefe’s. When Liv told me what I needed was a girls’ night out to fix my mood, I set the beginnings of my plan in motion, saying we should go to the the popular Irish pub. Micah’s friend Gabe owns this pub, and I’m hoping meeting him will help me understand Micah better.

  “Come on, girl. Hot Irish men await us.” Liv laughs, grabbing my arm, tugging me forward.

  I’m not laughing. My head hurts. My thoughts are spiraling out of control. I want to hate Micah. I should hate him for how he treated me today. But I can’t turn off my heart like that. And apparently, my heart wants Micah, even more than I knew. I can’t really recall when I became so sure about him, but clearly I did.

  Now I can’t look back.

  Liv keeps her arm linked with mine, leading me into the pub. The second the upbeat folk music flows over me, I exhale deeply. The wave of loud chatter from the crowd around the bar engulfs me. Here, everyone is carefree and happily drunk, and I discover that’s a blissful relief.

  I give in to the moment when Liv stops by an open space at the bar. I notice a pretty brunette tending to the customers, as well as a drop-dead gorgeous guy, complete with hazel bedroom eyes. Tall and fit, around Micah’s age. I’m wondering if this could be Gabe. I bite my lip, sorting through the thousand questions I want to ask him, and stay behind Liv as she orders us drinks.

  People are everywhere, either dancing at the back with the band, or standing around the bar, drinking their night away. The folk band is playing a catchy beat and my foot begins to tap along with the drums.

  “Hello.”

  I turn toward the deep, smooth voice, spotting an athletic man in his late twenties. His emerald green eyes have a slight angle and his smile holds charm. But he’s not Micah, my heart reminds me. “Hi,” I say.

  “I’m Brock.” He offers his hand. “And you are?”

  I return his handshake. “Allie.”

  “Hi there, Allie.”

  He’s still smiling at me when Liv sidles up and offers the crisp pint of beer. She glances at me and then spies Brock, a gleam in her eyes. She finishes with a totally fake serious look. “I should not have had those two glasses of water before we came. I’ll be right back.”

  I chuckle at her. Such lies she tells.

  Even Brock grins at Liv as she scurries off. When she fades into the crowd, he asks me, “So, Allie, what do you do?”

  I move toward the small table in front of me and place my beer on top. Talking to Brock will give me time to wait for Gabe to take a break, and then I can introduce myself and ask what I need to—or at least that’s my plan. “I’m a real estate agent,” I say to Brock as he settles in close beside me. “How about you?”

  “Corporate lawyer.” He gives a playful wink. “Totally boring stuff and not worth talking about.”

  I laugh, not blind to his charming personality. He’s got the looks too, seemingl
y cut right out of a GQ advertisement. I begin listening to him as he’s easily talking, and I’m answering his questions whenever he asks. I smile a lot, and I’m noticing how he likes to touch my arm when I laugh at something he says. He seems like a nice guy, exactly someone I would’ve dated before. A pang hits my chest hard, while the subject switches to sports. As cute as Brock is, he’s not the guy I want to flirt with. Which I guess is kinda surprising, because the guy I want can’t be more wrong for me.

  Isn’t this the lesson my mother taught me: don’t date that guy, the one every girl knows will hurt you in the end. Micah has hurt me more than once, and yet it feels entirely wrong to give up on him. It’s like we’re magnets, and I’m drawn to him so intensely that I can’t turn away.

  Brock obviously notes my mood change, stroking my arm. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. Sorry.” I smile, trying to enjoy the moment and get to know a guy who doesn’t seem to carry a whole suitcase of baggage. But somehow this guy cannot possibly compete with Micah. Logically, I know I shouldn’t want Micah. But he stirs something inside me, a need for him that no other man ever has before. I realize that I can’t refuse his grip on me, because, from day one, it’s never been a choice. It’s an irrefutable fact.

  I blink out of my thoughts, hearing the loud music again, when Liv suddenly catches my eye. She’s standing a few feet away, near the washrooms, yelling something at me I can’t hear over the music.

  But then I do understand, because I see Micah storming by Liv and shoving himself into the small space between Brock and me.

  “Do not touch her again,” Micah slurs, lurching into Brock’s face.

  “Whoa, buddy.” Brock’s forced to take a step back, raising his hands in surrender. “Take it easy.”

  Everything seems to be moving in slow motion, when I hear someone shout, “Shit,” behind me. I glance over my shoulder, just as the bartender jumps over the bar, charging toward us, and shoving his way in between Micah and Brock. He grins over Micah’s shoulder at me. “Allie, I presume?”

  I nod. “Gabe?”

  He mirrors my nod, then gently pushes on Micah’s chest, moving me out of the way. “You’ll regret this tomorrow. Let’s go.”