False Perceptions

by Michelle Heard

  I have a plan, and I can only hope it won’t backfire. I meet his glare, not caring that there is not an ounce of love for me on his face. This man hates me. I see it clearly now, and that will only help set my plan in motion.

  “Why do you hate me?” I ask.

  “I was wondering when you would ask me that. The answer is simple, Emilie. You’re not my child.”

  Even though nothing he says should surprise me, I still feel a little shocked by the news.

  “Your mother had an affair while I was on tour. I had to protect Clare from the scandal, so I was stuck raising the bastard’s child.”

  “Who’s my father?” I ask, wanting to know that before I start the next part of my plan.

  “Does it matter? He’s dead.”

  “It matters to me,” I grind out, hating every word that’s coming out of his mouth.

  “Peter. Yes, Emilie, your mother had an affair with my brother.”

  “Uncle Peter?” I ask, almost getting dragged down memory lane. I loved Uncle Peter. He was nothing but kind to me. He died in combat not long after Mom died in the car accident.

  “Yes, and with that out in the open now, you can start repaying me for all I’ve done for you,” George disdainfully says, wearing self-importance like a crown.

  “Repay you,” I repeat, as I fight to hold back the anger swirling inside of me like a destructive storm. “You have some nerve. You kept me from my father.”

  “I protected this family. I couldn’t have you smearing the family name.”

  “You’re a conceited son-of-a-bitch,” I grind the words out as I take a step closer to him.

  When a sneering smile settles on his smug face, it takes almost all of my self-control to not smack the look from it.

  “All of that is irrelevant now. You will grant interviews, and you will express how thankful you are that I didn’t just let you rot in that hole. You owe me.”

  Focus, Emilie. Don’t let him bait you. Time for the final step of your plan.

  “Speaking of the kidnapping, why did you do it? Was it just to gain the sympathy of the public?”

  My breaths are shallow as my heart thumps loudly in my ears. This is it. This is what I came for.

  Don’t hold back now, George. Tell me how smart you thought you were.

  “Of course, why else would I bother with you. You’re a thorn in my side. If those men had done as I asked, I’d have been rid of you and would’ve had all of America eating from my hand.”

  “Done as you asked?” I breathe, unable to stay calm. It’s surreal, hearing the man who raised me, talk about the worst experience of my life as if it was nothing but an irritation to him.

  “They were supposed to rough you up a bit before disposing of you. It’s hard to find good help these days.”

  I blink as his words sink in. He was going to have me killed.

  I forget about the recording as rage blasts through me like a hurricane. I close the distance between us, and as my fist connects with his jaw, the whiskey glass goes sailing into the air.

  I hear the shatter of glass. I see the shock and anger on his face, and it only feeds the monstrous rage engulfing every part of me.

  I get another two punches in, before George comes at me, growling as spit and blood drip from his mouth.

  He stretches his arms wide, roaring with anger, but as he gets close, I turn my body sideways and duck, sending him tumbling right over me.

  “Asshole,” I growl, landing a kick in his soft gut before he can get up. “This is the only chance you’ll get to kill me so get your ass up off the floor and fight like a man for once.”

  George stumbles to his feet, and just having to look at him makes my rage boil over.

  “Do you have any idea what they did to me?” I scream, totally losing control of my emotions.

  “I don’t care,” he bites the words out before spitting some more blood onto the floor.

  “They waterboarded me. Because of you, I was locked in a fucking box. I was tortured!”

  My voice echoes around the room as George lets out a bitter chuckle.

  “Just like your father,” he says as moves toward the mantle above the fireplace. Before I can go after him, he yanks a gun free from under the mantel piece. “Stupid, bitch. I’ll just have to finish the damn job myself.”

  He points the gun at me, and as he pulls the trigger, I duck to the left. I crawl behind the couch as he fires another shot.

  Breathless, I glance at the only exit I have out of this room. I hear another shot and feel as it slams into the couch.

  I close my eyes and listen for his movements as I get onto my feet, staying low so I can make a run for it.

  As he fires the next shot, I burst forward, running as fast as I can. I grab hold of the wall to help swing myself behind it. Another shot echoes in the room, and just as the bullet slams into my arm, I collide with a solid wall of muscle.

  My eyes snap open as I’m pulled away from the entrance to the living room. Hayden is here.

  I barely have time to register him being here when he stalks forward, his gun raised. My eyes are glued to him as he presses his shoulder against the wall, and calls out, “Senator Swanson. I’m Chief Petty Officer Cole. I’m armed. Drop your weapon and kick it over here.”

  “Not a fucking chance. I know who you are. You’re the fucker who has been shacking up with her.”

  “Sir, drop your weapon, or I will use force,” Hayden says again, and I’m actually surprised he’s so calm.

  My heart is beating out of my chest. My arm is on fire. And honestly, I really want to kill George Swanson myself.

  “Fuck you,” George spits. He fires a shot in our direction, and it sounds much closer than his voice was a second ago.

  When Hayden darts forward, out from behind the cover of the wall, my heart stops.

  “Hayden!” I scream as I go after him.

  He fires two quick shots before I can even reach him. In slow motion, my head turns, and I look over to where George drops to his knees before falling on his face.

  “Oh, my God. You killed him,” I say, feeling shocked for a fleeting moment.

  Hayden moves forward, kicking the gun away from George before he carefully feels for a pulse.

  “He’s gone,” he breathes.

  Security rushes past me with the cops right on their heels. Oh great, now everyone gets here.

  “Ma’am, can you step this way,” a cop asks.

  I look down at the blood dripping down my arm, and a fresh wave of anger washes over me.

  “The bastard shot me,” I grumble. “I’m reaching for my phone in my pocket. I’m not armed,” I say so the cop won’t panic and kill me.

  I pull the phone from my pocket, and when I unlock the screen, I’m relieved to see that the recording didn’t stop.

  I play the evidence and let the truth fill the air.

  CHAPTER 56

  HAYDEN

  I’m so angry with Emilie that I haven’t been able to say a damn thing besides growling answers at the cops.

  When we’re done giving our statements, handing over the evidence, and getting Emilie’s arm stitched up, it feels like I’m going to explode.

  Standing outside the hospital, I call us a cab. The ride back to the crime scene is filled with tension. I can’t bring myself to look at her because I know I will lose my shit, and when that happens, we need to be alone and not stuck in a fucking cab.

  As the cab drives off, I head straight for the bike.

  “Get your ass to the hotel,” I growl as I swing my leg over the bike. “Right now.”

  Emilie glares at me, then walks to the car with her head held high. This woman will be the death of me yet.

  I wait for her to pull out, then follow her to where I’ve booked a room for us. I’m not letting her out of my sight.

  She parks the car, climbs out and swings her fucking sexy ass as she stomps into the hotel, not bothering to wait for me.

  Lord, help me.
/>   She’s standing at the front desk, her arms crossed and the scowl still on her face. All that’s missing is her tapping her foot; then the pissed off look will be complete.

  She meets my glare as I stop next to her.

  “Cole,” I growl at the poor front desk clerk who’s watching us with wide eyes.

  I get the keycard, and taking hold of Emilie’s uninjured arm, I walk her to the elevator.

  When the doors slide open, Emilie’s body tenses next to me. I glance at her and the murderous look she’s giving the couple in the elevator, makes my eyes snap to them.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Emilie snaps. “I can’t catch a break tonight.”

  “Am I missing something?” I grind the words out, still angry as fuck with her.

  “Hayden, meet the asshole and his whore,” she says, waving a careless hand in their direction.

  Oh.

  Ohhh.

  I turn my head slowly back to the couple, especially the man, as they step out of the elevator. The doors close behind them. If the fucker had any sense of survival, he would’ve stayed in there.

  “Emilie, now that’s no way to greet old friends,” the fucker says, and he actually has the balls to place a hand on her shoulder, just above the bandage.

  “Not only are you stupid as fuck, but blind as well. Get your fucking hand off of her,” I growl, and at the same time, I step in front of Emilie, pushing the sackless piece of shit back with my chest.

  “Hey now, easy there,” he says, laughing nervously.

  That’s right, be afraid. I’m not some woman you can push around.

  The woman next to him seems to have some functioning brain cells because she steps to the side, putting some distance between her and the fucker.

  “Sweetie, I’ll wait for you by the car,” she says in a sickeningly sugary voice.

  Before she can take a step toward the entrance, Emilie darts from behind me, stepping right into the woman’s path.

  “No, sweetie. I think you should stay,” Emilie sneers, her body tense as if she’s about to slap the woman into the next century.

  “Come on,” dickhead says, “let’s all be civil.”

  “Civil?” Emilie bites out. “Civil left a long time ago, along with half my trust fund and twelve years of my life.”

  “Half of that money was mine the second we got married. I let you leave with my car out of the goodness of my heart. It’s been almost a year. I want the Audi back.”

  Emilie turns to face fuckface, and I see the moment her anger gives way to pride.

  “I’m done here,” she says with finality.

  “You’re not going to hit him?” I ask to make sure I don’t overstep my boundaries for a second time tonight. I’m pretty sure she’ll take me on then.

  Her eyes meet mine, and all the anger from earlier is gone.

  “I’ll let you have this one,” she says. “I’m done wasting my time on him.”

  She turns around and starts to walk toward the entrance.

  “Where are you going?” I call after her. When fuckface tries to take a step to the left, I grab hold of his shoulder, holding him in place.

  “I’ll wait for you by the bike.” She stops, digs the keys to the Audi out of her bag and walks back to me. She holds the keys out to me. “Won’t you please return the keys for me?”

  “Babe, the room,” I say, nodding toward the elevator when she starts to walk away again.

  “We’re going to be kicked out by the time you’re done playing.”

  I let out a chuckle. “My woman, she’s always right,” I say as I look down at the piece of shit who got to touch her. Damn, I really didn’t need that image in my head.

  “I’ll just take the keys and go,” dipshit says as he tries to pull free from the hold I have on him.

  I look down at the keys, then smile up at him. “Oh, these? Yeah, I should return them.”

  Still holding the keys, I slam a fist right into his nose. Blood spurts like a beautiful fountain of pain before he can lift his hands to his face to cover his broken nose.

  “Oh shit, sorry,” I say dropping the keys in front of him. As he bends to pick them up, I bring my knee up, slamming it into his face. “Fuck, my bad.”

  “Sir!” the clerk calls out as she waves at security.

  “No need, I’m leaving,” I call out. “Don’t fucking talk to Emilie again. Next time I will kill you.”

  I shoot a scathing glance in the woman’s direction which makes her bristle on the spot. Dropping the keycard on the counter, I walk toward the entrance.

  Wisely, the security guard steps back. Smart move on his part because the next person who gets in my way from fighting with Emilie will die.

  Tonight, I’m bending her over and tanning her feisty ass.

  CHAPTER 57

  EMILIE

  When Hayden walks toward the entrance, I quickly run to the bike. Leaning against it, I cross my arms.

  He stalks right to me and before I can make a sassy comment, his mouth slams into mine.

  His hands grab my hips, lifting me onto the seat. Pushing my legs open, he rubs his cock over the blazing heat that’s about to make my panties go up in flames.

  “We need a room. Now.” The deep sound of his voice almost makes me throw caution to the wind. I want him slamming into me until today is nothing but a distant memory.

  “I know of a place nearby. I was renting it from George,” I say between kisses. I ramble off the address and directions while he lifts me from the bike.

  When I’m standing in front of him, he pushes a helmet over my head and growls, “Get on the bike, babe.”

  I watch him straddle the bike and it only turns me on more. Hot damn! That’s enough to make me spontaneously combust.

  I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Hayden takes my thighs and yanks me closer until my breasts are flattened against his back with my pelvis pressed right up against his ass.

  “That’s better,” he says before starting the bike.

  As he pulls away, I glance through the windows into the entrance hall of the hotel. When I see Marie-Jane yelling and pointing her finger in Robert’s bloody face, I let out a burst of laughter.

  I hug Hayden tighter, pressing my cheek against his back as he takes us to the apartment.

  When we arrive, I rush to climb off the bike, yanking the helmet off at the same time. I dig my keys from my bag, and as I struggle to find the right one in the dark, Hayden’s arms come around me from behind.

  I finally get the right key, and while unlocking the door, Hayden starts to unzip my pants.

  I stumble through the door, hearing as it gets slammed shut behind us. Hayden’s chest crashes into my back, and if it weren’t for his arm coming around my waist, I would’ve lost my balance. He lifts me from my feet, carrying me to the table.

  As he sets me back down, he places a hand on my back, forcing me to bend over. When he drags my pants and panties down my legs, I have to admit, I’m loving fighting with him so far.

  I hear the sound of his zipper going down, and wiggle my ass in the air, needing him to move faster. A slap to my ass makes a loud groan slip from my lips.

  I feel his cock at my entrance, and as he drives into me with one long, hard stroke, he growls, “Never do something like that again. I can’t lose you.”

  I rock my hips back against him, meeting his next thrust head-on.

  “Harder,” I breathe.

  My hip bones slam into the edge of the table as he does what I ask.

  “Fuck this position. I’m going to hurt you here,” Hayden says as he pulls out, lifts me from my feet, and carries me to the couch. Before I can grab hold of anything, Hayden’s filling me with his cock. I place one knee on the cushion as my fingers dig into the back of the couch. With every hard thrust, I lose my hold.

  “Fuck,” Hayden snaps, as he pulls out for the second time.

  I start to laugh as he throws me over his shoulder, walking down the hallwa
y. I push my hands down the back of his pants, grabbing his ass.

  When he starts to turn right, my head pops up. “No, go left.”

  He walks us into the guest bedroom and drops me on the bed. Taking hold of my hips, he flips me over onto my stomach, separating my legs with his knee.

  This time when he thrusts into me, I bite into the cover to smother my scream.

  Holy cow that feels so good.

  Hayden takes me hard and fast, his grunts mixing with my groans. I feel him so much deeper as he keeps driving into me, that come tomorrow, I’ll probably still be feeling him.

  Pushing his hand under me, he pinches my clit, and it sends me soaring with pleasure. I whimper as the orgasm rolls over me, and as I come down, he releases my clit. The reprieve is only for a moment as he pinches the sensitive bundle of nerves again, forcefully plunging into me.

  The pleasure borders on painful, but a powerful orgasm rocks my body so hard I’m barely aware that Hayden is coming.

  I’m lying in a mushy mess of sweat and tangled hair when he leaves the room only to return with a warm cloth. I can’t be bothered with being embarrassed as he cleans between my legs.

  He drops the cloth somewhere on the floor, and when I feel his mouth on my left ass cheek, I smile.

  “I left a handprint,” he whispers as his fingers tenderly brush over my skin. “I’m sorry, babe.”

  I glance back at him from over my shoulder. “You can always slap the other one, so they match.”

  He shakes his head as he comes to lie down beside me. Brushing the hair from my face, his eyes lock on mine.

  “Never do that again.”

  The words are hoarse and filled with pain from all he has lost. Guilt instantly floods me.

  I reach out and cupping his jaw, I press a soft kiss to his lips.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He smiles as he rolls me onto my back. Staring down at me I can see the words written in his eyes before he says them.

  “I love you, Emilie. I know you can take care of yourself. But in the future, just to appease my male ego, let me face danger with you. Let me have your back.”